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Over the course of Todd’s lifetime, many things have changed. Most recently, prominent points on that list include transferring to Welton and his sudden yet avid interest in poetry. There is also the odd paradox of change that is constant, such as the rotation of seasons and the classes he has each day. Hell, even the time Todd manages to fall asleep always changes.
The one thing that always seems to stay the same is Welton’s lake.
Though it does turn to ice once the weather remains below freezing for just long enough, something about the New England climate ensures that the water is always freezing… or at least every time Todd has dared to stick a finger in the waters. Even if the fall evening persists to be warm enough for sweatpants and a t-shirt, somehow, as if stubbornly determined to remain unchanged, the lake is still chilling to the bone.
And this is more than evident to Todd by the way Neil’s shirt clung to his skin, his nipples perky enough from the frigidity to make their presence unmistakable.
Apparently the boy’s nipples are enough to distract Todd completely from the way Neil’s mouth quirked up into a devious smirk, his arms lightning-quick in lunging forward and swinging the other into the icy water. Todd barely had enough time to process that he was falling to flail and keep his head above water before the chill winded him like a blow to the chest. Neil’s laugh had carried over him as his arms shook, struggling to pull his body out onto the pier. Perhaps it was the sound of his voice that kept his sanity from pulling the boy back into the lake.
Right now, both regrettably shivering in their soaked states, their laughter subsides and Neil takes the opportunity to give Todd a once over. Unconsciously, Todd shifts on his feet.
“C’mon.” Neil jerks his head in the general direction of their dorms. “Let’s go get ourselves changed before anyone finds out.” Todd laughs for the sole purpose of preventing his teeth from chattering as he nods hurriedly, hoping his arms hugging his own chest and the brisk walk would be enough to warm him even a few degrees.
Todd doesn’t mean to lag behind. Not initially… not if anyone asks. Though, as Neil jogs a few steps ahead, Todd can’t help but notice how his shirt clings to his rather slender frame, and how the very (in Todd’s humble opinion) wisely chosen sweatpants hug his ass. Licking his lips, Todd tries to drink in the sight from his peripheral vision, just if by chance someone is to catch him, or if Neil is to turn around.
Should he feel guilty about it? Perhaps. And yet Todd has to bite his lip to prevent his grin, quell the excitement before it rises prematurely.
Luckily, only a few boys threw questioning glances their way, but then again, it wasn’t so unusual to see a group of friends returning from an attempt to go swimming at inappropriate times. By the time both tumble into their room, giggling residually from the nerve of their stunt, Neil shuts the door behind him and immediately peels off his shirt, tossing the fabric with a wet slap to the wooden floor. He shivers and goosebumps cover his arms, but Todd’s eyes waste no time to zero in on the expanse of the other’s chest. When Neil flops back down onto his bed instead of searching for a dry shirt, Todd attempts to cover his tracks with a scoff and a roll of his eyes, moving to go rummage through his own closet. There is no point in encouraging himself from doing something embarrassing when he is already trying to veer away from the precipice of doing so. At least the chill of lake water saturating his clothing is doing its part in preventing most of whatever that was.
Peeling his shirt off at last, Todd feels a full body shiver wrack up his spine as he arches his back to let it pass. Neil is still lying completely still on his bed when he straightens, and since his eyes are closed, Todd takes full advantage of the view he has.
Each and every breath is outlined by the shape of Neil’s ribs, steady in their ebb and expanse. His stomach dips low from gravity and maybe just a little bit too many small meals encouraged by stress and his busy schedule. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, pulled both by the friction of his blankets as well as the dampness of its fabric, leaving little of his thighs for imagination. And then, of course, Todd realizes with guilt, his nipples still stand erect on his chest, rising and falling with every breath.
Shocked by the excruciating attention to detail he’s giving to his roommate, Todd has a moment of panic and ends up throwing his wet shirt directly onto Neil’s face, accentuated by the loud slap of wet fabric against skin. Neil gasps in surprise, recoiling like a pill bug as he struggles to come to terms with what happened. When he finally relaxes, his limbs still sprawled across the bed with the exception of a hand shifting Todd’s shirt so he can breathe, he leaves the shirt on his face.
“You smell like wet dog,” he says, and Todd can hear the grin through the fabric. He does little to suppress his own grin.
“So do you,” Todd retorts, required by some hypothetical guy code to not lose.
“You don’t know that!”
“I can smell you from here!” he teases, laughing when Neil sits up to shake his hair out like a wet dog. “Hey, don’t do that in the room!”
“What are you gonna do, stop me?”
“Is it so much for me to ask for you not to spray bird-shit-lakewater all over our beds?”
Neil refrains from answering, and Todd soon comes to realize that it's because he’s busy scrutinizing Todd instead. Though he’s sat up now, his arms prop him up lazily, and his hair is plastered across his face, bangs curling where they were shaken. His eyes lethargically rake over the other boy, making Todd painfully aware that he, too, is also shirtless. He prays that the warming of his cheeks doesn’t show on his face.
“Aw, c’mon Toddsie… what has a little bit of lakewater ever done to you?”
Todd bites his cheek to refrain from spilling the truth.
“Freeze my ass off,” he decides to say at last, slicking his hair out of his eyes and shaking his now-even-wetter hand to prove his point. “I’m gonna go shower and if you don’t wanna catch a cold, you probably should too.”
And with that, he grabs his towel and leaves, trying to decide if a hot or cold shower would be more effective at this point.
It’s almost never that Neil wakes up in the middle of the night — hell, he sleeps like a fucking log — so when the last wisps of his dream clear up like a fog from his conscience, he’s surprised to see (or rather, not) that it’s still near pitch-black in the room.
Waking up is truly a sub dimension in space, because even though Neil has half the mind to realize he’s awake, he’s still not processing everything properly, hugged by the warmth from the radiator (since they moved their lake-saturated clothes from it before they went to bed) and bleary enough to want to fall asleep again.
That is, until his ears finally turn back on.
Just across the room, Neil tunes into what are most definitely ragged and shaky breaths. It takes him half a moment of wonder before he realizes that’s not your typical sleep breathing pattern. The realization slams into him like someone hit the brakes in an automobile just a bit too hard, yet he’s frozen in space.
Concentrating just a little harder, his eyes now effectively adjusting to the dimness of the room, he’s almost surprised to be greeted with shifting of fabric, thinly masking the too-familiar sounds of slick-skin-against-slick-skin.
Neil’s own breath catches in his throat before he remembers to even it out.
Okay, so… Todd’s having some me-time when everyone else is asleep. That’s cool, that’s cool; it’s a regular occurence in the dorms.
Then Todd has to lose control of a tiny muffled whine, and suddenly it’s not so cool because Neil’s cock decides to twitch in attention.
Neil’s never been more grateful that he is facing the wall, because then there’s almost no chance that Todd will notice the bite of his lip or the hitch in his breath. Almost unconsciously, Neil’s hand squeezes his sheets tighter. Todd whimpers and Neil shifts his hips, desperate for any sort of relief.
Any hope of falling back asleep is but moot in Neil’s mind. Now, his options only seem to be to lie awake in agony… or to pull something very, very stupid. Of course, Todd is the one masturbating in their goddamn shared room, but then again, Neil is pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to wake up. Either way, no one technically has to know about this , Neil reasons to himself as his most motile hand snakes down as quietly as it can go.
He’s already stifling warm under the covers, and the realization of what he’s about to do really helps build the tension. With just fingers slipped under the elastic of his pyjama’s waistband, Neil idly plays with the curly hair there, functioning both to create anticipation as well as to not shock a sound from himself. He’s playing a game of stealth now, and the stakes are high enough that keeps Neil from doing anything riskier than he already is.
Realistically, Todd is probably not going to take very much longer to finish, but then again, it’s not like Neil is going to last very long either. Sure, the risk of being caught and just the dirty thought of what he is doing is wrong should be enough to deter him, but the thrill is really getting to his head for some reason, and before he knows it, his hand is already dipped completely in pants, fingers delicately tracing up and down the length to heighten the sensation. Biting his lip, Neil grins as he feels his breath shake with exhalation.
Todd whines again, and Neil finally wraps his fingers around his shaft, moving his hand that has been clutching at his sheets to bite at his arm instead. When Todd makes another sound, Neil’s hips twitch up to push himself into his hand, giving him the friction he desperately craves. Normally, he’d take it slowly, play with himself just a bit longer, but the more sounds that come from Todd’s throat and slickness of his own hand have him desperate to catch up, and his skin prickles with the electricity that sparks through his nervous system. Quivering with need, he brushes his thumb over his slit, biting back his own voice as he smears precome all over the head and the rest of his dick. Hell, his psychogenic excitement had been enough to make a wet spot on his pyjama pants, which will probably be an issue for the future but for now is kind of hot.
There’s an odd sort of balance Neil is attempting to maintain, staying silent to not be caught in addition to hear every sound coming from the other side of the room as clearly as he can, but then the coiling of his gut demands more and more friction, and it’s all Neil can do to hope that whatever noises he’s making are drowned out by the thickness of his blankets and Todd’s distraction. It already takes up all of his willpower to not thrust into his hand and move the bed, so his hand works double time, thankfully supplied with enough precome to allow him some liberty.
Though sounds are one hell of a stimulant, Neil wishes he could see his fantasy in action; he’s still acknowledged the fact that it is too risky to turn around and even catch a glance, but carefully crafted images of ruffled hair and flushed skin flicker behind his eyes and are enough to suffice him for now. After all, Todd seems to be worked up enough to let go of breathy little moans and unevening strokes, signaling his nearing to an end.
Sensing that his cover will be blown soon, Neil allows himself to quicken his pace, pausing occasionally to rub the pad of his thumb underneath the head of his dick or swipe it over the slit. Todd’s voice finally breaks at the back of his throat, and Neil’s got his fingers wrapped all the way around his dick and his hips pushed against his hand as far as it can go, reaching his climax with his roommate’s name on his lips.
It takes a few moments for the fog in Neil’s head to disperse, but then he’s lying still and perhaps a little too stiff, keeping excruciating regulation on his breathing and resolutely ignoring his (somewhat regrettably) soiled pyjama pants. His ears begin to perk up again, listening for any sound the other boy will make to clue him in on his situation.
Apparently there’s some luck left after all for Neil, as he hears Todd finally shift away from his covers and stand. Neil’s entire body shakes with the deafening sound of his heartbeat, freezing him in terror with every floorboard creak. His cheeks burn with mortification in realizing the extent of what he had just done, but something about the intensity that had come with his climax cancels it out anyhow. At last, Todd must have grabbed everything he needs because the door shuts softly behind him as he leaves presumably to the washroom.
Neil untangles his legs awkwardly from his sheets and bolts up, knowing his time is limited. Luckily, there are some tissues stowed away on his desk and an extra pair of pyjama pants he’d forgotten about on the floor, so Neil cleans up haphazardly in record time before he crawls back into bed like he’d never woken up in the first place. In his panic, Neil has actually given himself a minute of leeway, as Todd enters right after Neil is comfortable, holding his breath for what feels like forever.
Maybe Todd climbing back into his bed and going right to sleep is a bit anticlimactic, but that doesn’t stop Neil from laying awake, stealing glances of a softly breathing figure once he’s sure Todd is asleep.
In hindsight, not taking a raincheck for this Dead Poets Society meeting might have been a better idea considering the dark clouds that loomed all afternoon, but Charlie had tracked down some especially good cigars and chocolate from town, and the round songs they brought were more than entertaining, so the meeting continued without ado until the first clap of thunder rumbled in the distance.
Despite the definite warning signs, the boys took the lightning and thunder for dramatic backdrop to their meeting, and by the time it started pouring, they realized it was going to be impossible to make it back to the dorms without soaking to the skin.
See, there’s a funny thing about rain. When it begins to pour, we take shelter; we take out our umbrellas and run to the next cover for shelter until better circumstances present themselves to us. In essence, we do everything in our power —much according to our terrestrial and warm-blooded nature— to remain and dry from the threatening chill.
And then, something queer happens if you take just but a step over the line.
Maybe a splash on your pant leg or a wet sock might leave you vexed, but a switch seems to flip when one takes the plunge and truly gets soaked. Some childish inspiration emerges, and suddenly you don’t care for how much water moistens your hair or your clothes. You seek it out, jumping in for the plunge because well if you’re already wet, then why not reach for all you can get out of the experience? One minute you’re displeased about the unpleasant change in weather, and the next you’re wading through the lake with disregard to your ill-suited attire.
This mindset is about what the current Dead Poets Society has adopted at this moment. They skip through the forest, hollering and whooping gailey as the pouring rain thrums across the forest floor. Lighting illuminates their path every few minutes, thunder running shivers down their spines. Everyone slips into the mud and leaves at least once, but the rain dripping down their skin makes them care even less.
The boys only fret momentarily as they sneak back and around the old guard dog, dripping evidence in their wake, but after making their way directly to the showers, washing and drying off before wiping away the trails down the boys’ dorm hall where the rug turns into hardwood. Only Todd and Neil escape to their room without doing either, having gotten off the hook so that Todd could take care of the nasty gash Neil had received across their cheek after a particularly messy slip onto a tree root on their way back.
With a resounding creak, the door is finally shut behind them, and they are isolated in their own room again. Todd firmly points at Neil’s chair and shoves his shoulder blade in the general direction before he moves to turn on the lamps in the room and close the curtains. Neil rolls his eyes as he slumps into his own wooden chair.
“It’s just a cut, Todd. A cut ,” Neil sighs, exasperated. He watches as Todd bustles around the room, rummaging around for a dirty towel on the laundry pile and a first aid box above his closet, tossing his soaked cloak onto the radiator.
“You’re stupid,” he mutters in retaliation. He throws the towel at Neil’s head, who catches it and slowly begins to dry his hair. “ Stupid .”
“Jesus Christ; it’s not that bad.” He’s wrong, of course. His hand is currently covering the mark, but the rain easily stained his skin red and let it run into his (thankfully black) cloak. God knows what could be infecting it at this very moment. Todd huffs and throws him his tissue box too so he can start cleaning up. “I doubt it needs any stitches.”
“Yeah… and the consequences ? Have you thought about those ?” Todd asks incredulously. He finally locates his water bottle and makes his way over to his roommate, leaning against the desk for some leverage. “What are you going to do when you have rehearsal? What about in the morning? Neil, people are going to ask questions . Teachers are going to ask questions. As far as they’re concerned, you went to bed with nothing on your face.”
Neil shrugs. “Fell off the bed and hit the corner of the radiator or something — not that hard.”
“Yeah, okay, fine.” Todd frowns as he pours water onto some of the tissues, using both the wet and dry tissues to dab away the blood. He pauses and narrows his eyes when he realizes Neil is looking up at him with a dopey grin. “... What? ”
“You talk a lot when you’re worried.”
“N- No I don’t.”
“It’s cute.”
Todd’s chest suddenly feels constricting. “Shut up.”
Neil smirks. “Okay, doc.”
Todd takes a cotton ball out of his box and douses it with hydrogen peroxide quickly, daubing it against the cut along Neil’s cheekbone as a distraction. Neil immediately winces.
“ Jesus , Todd — take it easy, won’t you?”
Feeling only slightly guilty, he wipes the cut a bit more gently, watching Neil’s eyelids twitch slightly less each time. Once he’s satisfied and can actually see the gash for what it is, Todd holds more tissues to it so they can soak up any residual blood as he looks for the perfect bandage.
“Thanks.”
The words are mumbled so softly that Todd isn’t quite sure if he hears them correctly. When he focuses back on Neil rather than his injury, he notices that the boy isn’t looking at him anymore.
“What?”
“Thanks.” Neil glances up at him, holding his gaze until Todd looks away, messing with the gauze and getting enough gauze tape for padding. “Thanks… for worrying, I guess.”
“Oh. It’s no problem.”
“Yeah.”
Todd pauses, gathering his thoughts, before finally sighing and throwing the tape to the side, grabbing some more tissues to wipe away any excess blood. With his other hand, he cradles Neil’s good cheek, moving it so he can use enough force to take out any red stain.
“It’s not…” Neil begins, but then trails off, and Todd stops. It’s only then that he recognizes how he’s only inches from the other’s face, almost straddling the other’s leg to get decent access to the injury at hand.
He freezes.
“It’s not often that anyone likes to spare any fucks,” Neil finally finishes. Maybe it’s because Todd is infinitely closer than he usually is, but it’s only at this distance that he notices the slight vulnerability in Neil’s eyes that contradict the brashness in his words.
Todd… has no idea what to do with that information. He’s still frozen, but more dumbstruck than in mortification. Even though his eyes are drowning in Neil’s rich brown ones, he can’t help but notice the droplet of water drip from his hair and run down the side of his face.
“You’re gonna get another cold,” Todd says, standing up suddenly and stumbling over Neil’s legs, “now that you’re safe from infection.” Neil quirks his head to the side, watching Todd pace away nervously and stripping his soaking shoes and socks. When he looks up to hang his socks against his bed frame, he watches Neil take his own cloak off and toss it across the room mostly onto the radiator.
And maybe it was a bad idea to suggest that they strip their wet attire, because what Todd didn’t take into consideration was that Neil is also soaked underneath his cloak: both his t-shirt and his sweatpants cling to his body.
Which consequently makes Todd realize that he’s most likely in a similar position, and, in glancing down, can see how his own waterlogged shirt hugs to his stomach.
When he glances back up again, Neil is still sitting in his chair. His clothes are dripping onto the wooden panels underneath him. Lightning makes the lamp on the desk flicker, and thunder the room rumble.
“You know…” Neil scrunches his nose, tilting his head to the side again. “You’ve got something in your hair.”
Todd absently runs his hand through his drenched bangs, ignoring the mud for any twigs that might have gotten caught up in there. “Hm?”
“Right…” he moves his hand to mirror Todd, “right here… here, just… just come over here.” Neil’s gesturing him back over, and Todd tries his best to not gulp audibly. Nodding wordlessly, he steps back into Neil’s space. “Here, just… lean over a bit… it’s right-” It is kind of hard to ignore how Neil’s fingers gently comb his hair, trying to find whatever leaf or mud or bit of fluff he sees and pick it out. His other hand comes up to hold Todd’s cheek almost like in reciprocation, guiding his head so he can reach. “Yeah, like… yeah. I think I got it. Yeah.” Though he flicks whatever invisible dirt from his fingers away from Todd’s hair, his hand stays warm on his cheek, gently holding him in place.
“Oh.” Todd blinks slowly. “Thanks.”
“Yeah. No problem.” Neil swipes his hand through Todd’s bangs, mussing them up, before he lets it fall to his side again. Todd sways, unsure whether to straighten or remain where he is.
They’re both at a standstill. They’re on a precipice of… well, of something… but of what, they’re not really sure. Todd feels like he’s swaying forward half of the time, drawn in by some magnetic energy that has no known origin, but is unable to to take the leap. Consequently, the moment is drawn out for longer than Todd’s heart can take.
“I-” he begins to say, if not only to break the silence. Neil’s eyes refocus onto him, and he feels terribly exposed, dripping wet onto their floor. His voice retreats slightly when he tries again: “I really… You deserve more… more than just, well… just me worrying about you.” Neil’s eyes soften, and Todd can feel his heart swell exponentially, so he continues. “I find it hard to believe that no one worries about you, because, well… you’re you… and, you’re so worth the-”
And just like that, the dam breaks.
Because, in place of an answer, interrupting Todd’s words, Neil’s hands are on him again, one pulling on his wrist and the other back in its place on his cheek, guiding his face towards his own. Todd’s brain can’t work fast enough to process what’s happening, but his feet step forward to catch himself, and he can see Neil’s eyes flutter closed just before he reaches his lips.
In falling, in the breaking of that dam, both boys are soaked. Each had been timidly dancing around each other, and Todd can really see that now, but neither wanted to be the first to step out in the rain. And then… one splash, one inspirational surge over the edge, they fall. They can’t care for how drenched they’ve gotten, as there’s only so much someone can truly get drenched.
It’s all the same in how Todd doesn’t pay any mind to the matter of their wet attire, how it squelches slightly as he moves to straddle Neil and bring both of his hands to the side of his face, desperately reciprocating like he had been holding his breath under the sea and has just surfaced. Greedy, they indulge, indulge in what was just out of reach not so long before. Todd is not the only one who has dived head-first into this puddle, as by the way Neil wraps his arms around the boy, desperately grasping at the piece of fabric that clings to Todd’s back.
“God, Neil, I-” Todd gasps, mouth open against Neil’s lips before capturing his lips again and breathing his breath. One hand makes its way further back, pulling at Neil’s hair and freeing water droplets down his arm, while the other slides down to feel the firmness of his chest. “I’ve wanted- I’ve wanted you for so… ah… so long…”
“Feeling’s mutual,” Neil says before nipping Todd’s lip. “You don’t… You don’t know how hot… you are… like this.” Teasingly licking into his mouth once, Neil languidly makes his way down Todd’s neck, kissing and sucking the skin Todd is more than happy to bare. “The sounds you make-” he bites down and Todd whimpers, “make me want to eat you up.” Todd weaves his hands around Neil, pulling him closer and feeling his back muscles shift underneath the palm of his hands.
“Please… please, Neil. ” Still he’s scrabbling for purchase, overwhelmed by the feeling of Neil —Neil— sucking his brand on Todd’s skin. Somehow, sometime, Todd’s hands crawl up to separate the wet fabric of Neil’s shirt from his back, and despite still being wet from the rainshower earlier, he can’t help but notice how warm his touch is. Unconsciously, his hands pull Neil’s shirt over his stomach, and he doesn’t realize Neil is doing the same to him until he detaches, hurriedly trying to tug Todd’s shirt up and over his shoulders. He raises his arms to help, and then encourages Neil to do the same.
“I heard you,” Neil whispers. His head is now bowed against Todd’s chest, reverently looking at the bare skin under his hands as his fingers trace lines on Todd’s stomach and sides, leaving flutters in their wake. He can feel every uneven breath from Todd himself. “The other night… I heard you.” Todd’s breath stops.
“Neil-”
“I just wanna hear you make those sounds again.” He tilts his head so he can kiss the skin beneath his lips. “ Please .”
Todd sighs. Sure, his cheeks are burning from humiliation, but just the… just the thought of Neil wanting…
“I want to be the reason behind them,” Neil continues, thoroughly derailing any trail of thought that was passing through Todd’s head. He gasps, equally from the thought and from the wandering fingers that have reached his nipples.
“You- Oh, God , Neil- fuck… . You were ,” he manages. He curls his ankles around the back of the chair, pulling himself up onto Neil’s lap and… fuck , he was hard. That was Neil’s erection pressing up against his sweatpants; there was nothing hiding from the wet fabric’s inclination to Neil’s shape. Todd had barely even noticed how hard he had become, and now he takes full advantage of their position, gripping the sides of Neil’s face with both hands to lead him to his mouth again.
“ Fuck , Todd,” Neil breathes right before Todd hits his target, deepening the kiss without any hesitation. Todd’s fingers creep up to grasp at Neil’s hair, shimmying up to press their bare chests together for as much contact as physically possible. Unable to resist any longer, Todd separates for air, resting his forehead against Neil’s, and grinds down, hard, so that small and breathy moans escape from both boys.
“I was… I was thinking… about you, that night,” Todd clarifies, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. He presses a quick kiss to Neil’s mouth before adding on: “Remember when we fell into the lake?”
Neil huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. You pushed me, didn’t you?” His hands are snaking down to grip at Todd’s hips.
“Yeah, well, after that, I couldn’t- ah, fuck, Neil … I couldn’t stop… looking… your clothes…”
“You couldn’t stop looking at my ass?” Gripping hard at Todd’s hips, Neil grinds up right as Todd grinds down, and Todd’s head lolls back as he gasps. “Are you saying I should get wet more often, Todd Anderson?” They easily get into a rhythm, rolling together like churning waves. “Was it really me that you were thinking about then?” Todd, who’s facing Neil again, nods before catching Neil’s lips in another quick kiss. “Because it was so hot, I couldn’t help but touch myself.” Todd whines at the admission, and suddenly being caught doesn’t feel as bad anymore.
Moving together, their breath ragged, they feel their excitement continue to climb. Every once in a while, one will try and kiss the other, or maybe miss and kiss the side of their mouth or cheek. Sometimes, if someone is especially noisy, they bury their head into the other’s shoulder, muffling any louder noises from the rest of the dorm. They know they’re not going to last long —especially with the pent-up energy and rampant but unstable teenage hormones coursing through their systems— but still they cling to each other, frantic to ingrain the moment to memory.
“ Shit , Todd… Can I…?” Neil pants against his ear. Todd, head buried in the juncture of Neil’s neck and shoulder, pauses in kissing the skin there to nod. Hastily, Neil shifts so he can pull his sweatpants down far enough to release his own dick before moving to work on Todd’s pants. They both gasp, then moan when Neil takes them both in his hand. “ Fuck , Todd.” With both of them thrusting up into Neil’s hand along with the mix of precome and rainwater, the friction is just too good.
“Neil, ah, Neil- ”
“Fuck, I’m gonna-” is all Neil manages before he groans out, coming over his hand and his abdomen. His breath is shaky in his post-orgasmic haze, but he has enough of a mind to wrap his hand completely around Todd’s dick, lazily bringing him to his own climax.
Once they’re both coming down from their high of teenage euphoria, they sit there in silence, listening to the other breathe until they’re synchronized. It’s only now that they start to actually feel unpleasantly sticky, but neither quite have the motivation to do anything about it yet.
“Maybe next time we’ll last a bit longer than that,” Neil finally jokes, and Todd’s shoulders quiver with laughter, smiling against the smooth skin on his shoulder.
“You want a next time?” Todd asks hopefully.
“I’d like more than just a next time… if that’s what you want-” Neil is interrupted with a slow kiss, patient and tender in contrast to the heated passion from earlier.
“Of course I’d like that.” He finally stands up, shedding his pants immediately and tossing them onto the dirty clothes pile before stretching — he’d been slipping off Neil’s lap, and he may or may not have been beginning to develop a cramp back there. Neil sits where he is, pants pulled partially down and a dazed look across his face. “How are you feeling?”
“Fucking incredible.”
Todd gives him a look. “Well, yeah, but I mean the gash.” He grabs some tissues and cleans himself up before grabbing another wad for Neil.
“I told you: it’s not that bad. I’m sure it’ll clear up in no time.”
“You better hope it does.” Todd finds a towel and begins to dry himself off at last, throwing it over to Neil as he goes to look for his pyjamas. As he continues to get ready for bed, Neil finally gets up and prepares himself… and when Todd finally crawls into bed, warm under as many blankets as he can find, he leaves a space for Neil once he’s finished turning off the lights.
“No one will catch us like this, right?” Todd whispers sadly, brushing damp hair out of Neil’s eyes.
“I checked the door… it should be locked, so they’ll have to break down the door first,” Neil grins impishly, and Todd is once again reminded why he’s so fond of the boy. Unable to contain his own smile, he reaches up to kiss the bandage on Neil’s cheek.
Nuzzling his side, Todd aimlessly traces Neil’s chest, reveling in the warmth exuded from him. “... Do you really mean it when you say you want…?”
Todd can feel Neil nod, and then how a hand runs through Todd’s hair. “I think you also don’t realize just how much you deserve.” And with that, he leans down, kissing Todd sweetly on the head.
Though neither had noticed when the lightning and thunder had retreated for the night, the rain —softer and with less intent— remains, pattering gently on the glass of the window panes.