Okay, now this definitely counts as a jump in time, but whatever, they're sketches; plus, I'm working on a longer fic (ooooh) and I'm not too fussed at the moment to fill in the gaps.

Dead Poets Society isn't mine; I just play with the Poets.

Reviews are GUYS GUYS TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK I must know. Too childish? Too mature? Too corny? (If it's corny AND cheesy, that's okay, at least it will be tasty.)


After the first rehearsal of the play, Neil is buzzing; he is so filled with the energy and invincibility of anything being possible, that when at last he makes it back to the dormitory room (he may have tripped up the stairs a few times without even noticing) and sees Todd hanging his coat up in the wardrobe, Neil grabs him, seizes him by the front of his shirt, and kisses him.

It's a kiss so filled with pushing and surprise that neither boy really knows what it feels like, but when Todd breaks away and takes a step back towards the desk, Neil sees in his face, for just a second, an echo of the same thing he felt when he decided to become an actor; the same thing he felt when he realised that the centrefold spread wasn't for him; the same thing he felt when he knew that he'd always known.

- and then the light fades from Todd's face, quickly, so quickly, and is replaced by sense and good reason, family and future, tradition and terror, obedience and shame; it's replaced by what boys do and don't do.

"Stop," says Neil desparately, trying to grab the light with his words. "Stop – "

"Stop what?"

"That thing you do, that you always do. Just give yourself one moment to – to have this."

"I can't." Todd stumbles and holds onto the chair.

"You can."

"I'm not like you," he says, shaking his head.

"But you want it."

Neil knows he's pleading now. He also knows he doesn't care.

"So?" says Todd – and then, "Don't tell me what I want." He makes for the door but Neil is invincible and lunges to block his path. He holds up one hand like he's calming a dangerously wounded lion.

"Just one moment. It's all I ask."

Todd at least stands still, and Neil dares to edge closer to him. He's still not quite sure what he's doing but he does it anyway as, slowly and carefully, he places his hand on Todd's cheek. Todd winces, but doesn't move away.

"Be brave," says Neil.

Todd refuses to look at him.

"Please be brave. Please." Neil takes Todd's face in both his hands and forces his gaze upwards. "It's just you and me. Look at me. It's us."

And Neil laughs, as if 'us' is the most natural, simple thing in the world. He smiles into the face of his best friend. "Carpe diem?" he says, and wiggles his eyebrows in his goofiest manner. His heart bursts a little when Todd lets a grin slip through his armour.

"There," says Neil. He hesitates just for a second - to show he's not strong, to show he's still himself – then he kisses Todd again.

This time it's softer and warm, and Neil's spine tingles when Todd starts kissing him back.

"So this is kissing – " Neil thinks, and now he's starting to understand what all those dead poets were banging on about – then there is no thinking, only lips and bumping noses and false starts and smiles, and the shy brilliant laughter of Todd that seems to turn their inexperienced boyish fumbles into anything they want it to be.