A/N: Yay! Here it is! Chapter 2! I really love this chapter....Any feedback
would be great! Btw, the poem is M-I-N-E. Mine. I know most of you are
good, but those of you who are evil, stay the hell away from my poem! The
words are from Shakespeare's Hamletand totally not mine. (
Specifically, Hamlet talking to Horatio, damn I love those two...) Maps
lyrics are in here again and are within two signs.
If you're interested, I posted another DPS fic, entitled Autumn. Check it out!
Thanks!
-------------------------------
Chapter 2
Todd paced into Neil's bedroom with dinner in hand. Left over Chinese take-out from last night had been warmed up in the oven set on low,while he had slow-danced with the cat. Neil had wandered upstairs just as Todd had begun to rummage through the refrigerator for possible food, but not before the actor had paraded into the kitchen shouting Shakespeare in triumph. He had finished his paper. Todd had looked up from his thoughts to smile at his best friend, having absolutely no idea which play Neil's obscure words came from. Neil had dazzled the kitchen with his smile in reply to Todd's, gliding to the poet with sparkling eyes. He lunged at Todd, who chuckled as he leaned back on the countertop. The actor hissed some nonsense about lingering in kitchens of the soul with bottled fountains in the shelves and tigers roaming. The cat looked up at him with big eyes.
Pack up
I've strayed
Enough
Oh, say say say
Oh, say say say
"Neil," Todd said with his heart bursting again to have this friend, though he had woken up with Neil for countless days now. "Do you love me?" Everyday, the poet would ask his brother, and everyday, Neil would answer him with the same words that Todd whispered to himself whenever he woke up after a nightmare.
"Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, aye, in my heart of hearts, As I do thee."
They're eyes were locked in a beam of expression, before Neil tossed it aside and wrapped his arms around Todd, his head sliding down the poet's chest. Todd could feel Neil smile against his heart, as his own arms enveloped the actor. Oh, God, he loved Neil. He loved Neil, he loved everything about Neil, he loved everything inside Neil, he loved the clothes Neil left behind like clouds on the sky of his mattress, he loved the opened books Neil left scattered in his room like birds frozen in flight. He loved this apartment for belonging to them both, a place where they could be anyone they wanted to be and no one would judge them. He loved these walls that shielded them from the world, giving them moment of not breathing in each other's arms. He loved Neil for being his best friend. He loved Neil for being his brother. He loved Neil.
Wait, they don't love you like I love you
Wait, they don't love you like I love you
Ma-a-a-a-ps, wait!
They don't love you like I love you
Todd remembered the night when Neil admitted how much he loved the poet, the night he was born. It had been a night in last December, three weeks after Neil's attempted suicide. Todd had known it was snowing outside because of the silence. Darkness stole minutes away from his life as he lay in bed with open eyes. Neil had whimpered his name like fear in the blackness, scaring Todd the same way everything scared him back then. The poet had answered him, the actor had painfully admitted he was afraid, and for the first time in those three weeks, Todd felt like Neil was still with him. He had taken the actor in his bed, pressing his own back against the wall. Their bodies, their limbs covered in pinstripe flannel pajamas, had been squished together in that creaking bed. Todd had only been thankful that it was warm after having his body lie still in it, instead of that cold beds can sometimes be – turning people away. Neil had begun to cry, lying next to Todd. He had been in so much pain; it still hurt Todd to remember it. That had been the first time he had let himself go and do what his guts were screaming at him to do. He had pulled Neil into his arms, after days and days of wanting to but never trying. He had hugged another human being for the first time in years. He had held Neil Perry in the dark, feeling tears soak through to his chest, crying wordlessly into Neil's hair that reminded him of autumn leaves and laughter in beautiful places and moving through love. Together, they had fallen asleep. In the twilight before dawn, Todd's eyes had lifted open like lazy waves.
"I love you," Neil had whispered, his breath like a velvet blade against Todd's heart. The poet had ceased to live in that moment. The scared, lonely, suffering boy had died, taking all of his self-loathe and pain with him. The man Todd was now had been born from the ashes in that moment, with Neil Perry's limbs tangled in his and Neil Perry's words reviving him and Neil Perry's lips like a rose over his heart.
"Why?" he had questioned in a shaken breath.
"You saved me," Neil had answered, burying his face in the folds of the poet's soul. They lay in their embrace while twilight made the world look like a book, while the sun heralded a new day in the dawn, while muffled noise pervaded their door from the teeming corridor. Every moment of every day after that, Todd had wanted to hug Neil and never let go. Every moment of every day that they had to spend at Wellton after than, Todd had chained himself when he sat in the same classroom as Neil, wanting to be held. The poet would lean against Neil's shoulder or lie in Neil's arms or wrap himself up in Neil's coat every DPS meeting after that night. The others would just look at Neil and Todd, the actor and the poet, two of their best friends, and smile at the freedom they manifested.
Made off
Don't stray
My kind's your kind
I'll stay the same
Todd somehow remembered all of this across the bedroom floor, his socks sliding over the burgundy carpet. Neil was sitting in bed with his back to the wall, reading. The room was dimly lit with the actor's bedside lamp and a few ivory candles scattered across shelves and tables. Todd couldn't see the words reflected in his best friend's glasses, leading him to the conclusion that it must be a textbook. He didn't hesitate once he reached the bed and climbed in next to his best friend. The textbook slipped closed and slid over the side of Neil's lap when Todd offered him a white carton with red pagodas painted on the sides. Neil smiled as the carton bloomed and exhaled its sweet aroma. Two days did not leave him tired of lo mein and sweet and sour pork. His plastic fork seduced the noodles and trapped them in its dull prongs. Todd spooned mouthfuls of house fried rice into his own hunger. They exchanged shrimp without a word.
Pack up
Don't stray
Oh, say say say
Oh, say say say
After a while, Todd had enough of food and left the empty carton next to him on the bed. He dropped his head on to Neil's waiting shoulder and closed his eyes. He breathed as if he were dreaming and listened to the record revolving in the corner, singing in French like a Nazi-torn town in Holland. Todd didn't understand a word, not one lovely word, but it was okay, because Neil did. He thought about Neil wanting to run away to Paris for his own self-indulgence, to laugh in the subways, to sip a cappuccino in the rain, to meet some woman with short black hair, red lipstick, and a cigarette, to get lost in her fishnets. He thought about writing poetry at the top of the Eiffel Tower, with a whole veil of dotted lights strewn below him, like a reflection of the sky. He thought about standing in a Parisian chocolate shop with his best friend and drinking cheap champagne and loving him again.
Todd breathed like a sleeping child and Neil's scent invaded his lungs. He remembered, behind his closed eyes, the poem he wrote to the actor about what he thought he smelled like.
You smell like passion and poetry and vanilla candles, Glowing in my heart forever.
Neil had held him for a long time after reading it.
You smell like quiet snow and beauty and blackened matches, The little flames you left on my heart Like petals of a nameless flower.
Neil had cried.
You smell like the blanket that kept me from freezing When I fell asleep in Antarctica, Frosted with the tears I never knew existed.
Neil had held him with a weeping heart, and Todd had not known whether he wept with joy or sorrow or both.
You smell like falling leaves And rose petals still beautiful satin, Scattered in my palms.
Todd remembered the poem Neil had answered him with, scrawled in blank ink on a piece of creased paper the color of tulips in Amsterdam. He remembered his own tears seeping under his fingernails, making his eyelashes look wet.
You smell like poetry and sugar cookies
And the gentle soul I love. You smell like the glowing embers I take with me into bed to keep me warm. You smell like a lullaby soothing my nightmares, Weaving my dreams into your fingers. You smell like my long coat that I sleep in When you're not with me, so I don't fall apart.
He opened his eyes when he felt gentle hands guiding him to a familiar pillow. He looked into Neil's smiling face as he lay down, before closing his eyes again when sweet sleep enveloped him. He wondered if the cat was still on the windowsill as Neil slipped into bed next to him. Something soft, warm, and fluffy brushed up against his face and settled above his head on the pillow.
Wait! they don't love you like I love you
Wait! they don't love you like I love you
Ma-a-a-aps, wait!
They don't love you like I love you...
TBC
If you're interested, I posted another DPS fic, entitled Autumn. Check it out!
Thanks!
-------------------------------
Chapter 2
Todd paced into Neil's bedroom with dinner in hand. Left over Chinese take-out from last night had been warmed up in the oven set on low,while he had slow-danced with the cat. Neil had wandered upstairs just as Todd had begun to rummage through the refrigerator for possible food, but not before the actor had paraded into the kitchen shouting Shakespeare in triumph. He had finished his paper. Todd had looked up from his thoughts to smile at his best friend, having absolutely no idea which play Neil's obscure words came from. Neil had dazzled the kitchen with his smile in reply to Todd's, gliding to the poet with sparkling eyes. He lunged at Todd, who chuckled as he leaned back on the countertop. The actor hissed some nonsense about lingering in kitchens of the soul with bottled fountains in the shelves and tigers roaming. The cat looked up at him with big eyes.
Pack up
I've strayed
Enough
Oh, say say say
Oh, say say say
"Neil," Todd said with his heart bursting again to have this friend, though he had woken up with Neil for countless days now. "Do you love me?" Everyday, the poet would ask his brother, and everyday, Neil would answer him with the same words that Todd whispered to himself whenever he woke up after a nightmare.
"Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, aye, in my heart of hearts, As I do thee."
They're eyes were locked in a beam of expression, before Neil tossed it aside and wrapped his arms around Todd, his head sliding down the poet's chest. Todd could feel Neil smile against his heart, as his own arms enveloped the actor. Oh, God, he loved Neil. He loved Neil, he loved everything about Neil, he loved everything inside Neil, he loved the clothes Neil left behind like clouds on the sky of his mattress, he loved the opened books Neil left scattered in his room like birds frozen in flight. He loved this apartment for belonging to them both, a place where they could be anyone they wanted to be and no one would judge them. He loved these walls that shielded them from the world, giving them moment of not breathing in each other's arms. He loved Neil for being his best friend. He loved Neil for being his brother. He loved Neil.
Wait, they don't love you like I love you
Wait, they don't love you like I love you
Ma-a-a-a-ps, wait!
They don't love you like I love you
Todd remembered the night when Neil admitted how much he loved the poet, the night he was born. It had been a night in last December, three weeks after Neil's attempted suicide. Todd had known it was snowing outside because of the silence. Darkness stole minutes away from his life as he lay in bed with open eyes. Neil had whimpered his name like fear in the blackness, scaring Todd the same way everything scared him back then. The poet had answered him, the actor had painfully admitted he was afraid, and for the first time in those three weeks, Todd felt like Neil was still with him. He had taken the actor in his bed, pressing his own back against the wall. Their bodies, their limbs covered in pinstripe flannel pajamas, had been squished together in that creaking bed. Todd had only been thankful that it was warm after having his body lie still in it, instead of that cold beds can sometimes be – turning people away. Neil had begun to cry, lying next to Todd. He had been in so much pain; it still hurt Todd to remember it. That had been the first time he had let himself go and do what his guts were screaming at him to do. He had pulled Neil into his arms, after days and days of wanting to but never trying. He had hugged another human being for the first time in years. He had held Neil Perry in the dark, feeling tears soak through to his chest, crying wordlessly into Neil's hair that reminded him of autumn leaves and laughter in beautiful places and moving through love. Together, they had fallen asleep. In the twilight before dawn, Todd's eyes had lifted open like lazy waves.
"I love you," Neil had whispered, his breath like a velvet blade against Todd's heart. The poet had ceased to live in that moment. The scared, lonely, suffering boy had died, taking all of his self-loathe and pain with him. The man Todd was now had been born from the ashes in that moment, with Neil Perry's limbs tangled in his and Neil Perry's words reviving him and Neil Perry's lips like a rose over his heart.
"Why?" he had questioned in a shaken breath.
"You saved me," Neil had answered, burying his face in the folds of the poet's soul. They lay in their embrace while twilight made the world look like a book, while the sun heralded a new day in the dawn, while muffled noise pervaded their door from the teeming corridor. Every moment of every day after that, Todd had wanted to hug Neil and never let go. Every moment of every day that they had to spend at Wellton after than, Todd had chained himself when he sat in the same classroom as Neil, wanting to be held. The poet would lean against Neil's shoulder or lie in Neil's arms or wrap himself up in Neil's coat every DPS meeting after that night. The others would just look at Neil and Todd, the actor and the poet, two of their best friends, and smile at the freedom they manifested.
Made off
Don't stray
My kind's your kind
I'll stay the same
Todd somehow remembered all of this across the bedroom floor, his socks sliding over the burgundy carpet. Neil was sitting in bed with his back to the wall, reading. The room was dimly lit with the actor's bedside lamp and a few ivory candles scattered across shelves and tables. Todd couldn't see the words reflected in his best friend's glasses, leading him to the conclusion that it must be a textbook. He didn't hesitate once he reached the bed and climbed in next to his best friend. The textbook slipped closed and slid over the side of Neil's lap when Todd offered him a white carton with red pagodas painted on the sides. Neil smiled as the carton bloomed and exhaled its sweet aroma. Two days did not leave him tired of lo mein and sweet and sour pork. His plastic fork seduced the noodles and trapped them in its dull prongs. Todd spooned mouthfuls of house fried rice into his own hunger. They exchanged shrimp without a word.
Pack up
Don't stray
Oh, say say say
Oh, say say say
After a while, Todd had enough of food and left the empty carton next to him on the bed. He dropped his head on to Neil's waiting shoulder and closed his eyes. He breathed as if he were dreaming and listened to the record revolving in the corner, singing in French like a Nazi-torn town in Holland. Todd didn't understand a word, not one lovely word, but it was okay, because Neil did. He thought about Neil wanting to run away to Paris for his own self-indulgence, to laugh in the subways, to sip a cappuccino in the rain, to meet some woman with short black hair, red lipstick, and a cigarette, to get lost in her fishnets. He thought about writing poetry at the top of the Eiffel Tower, with a whole veil of dotted lights strewn below him, like a reflection of the sky. He thought about standing in a Parisian chocolate shop with his best friend and drinking cheap champagne and loving him again.
Todd breathed like a sleeping child and Neil's scent invaded his lungs. He remembered, behind his closed eyes, the poem he wrote to the actor about what he thought he smelled like.
You smell like passion and poetry and vanilla candles, Glowing in my heart forever.
Neil had held him for a long time after reading it.
You smell like quiet snow and beauty and blackened matches, The little flames you left on my heart Like petals of a nameless flower.
Neil had cried.
You smell like the blanket that kept me from freezing When I fell asleep in Antarctica, Frosted with the tears I never knew existed.
Neil had held him with a weeping heart, and Todd had not known whether he wept with joy or sorrow or both.
You smell like falling leaves And rose petals still beautiful satin, Scattered in my palms.
Todd remembered the poem Neil had answered him with, scrawled in blank ink on a piece of creased paper the color of tulips in Amsterdam. He remembered his own tears seeping under his fingernails, making his eyelashes look wet.
You smell like poetry and sugar cookies
And the gentle soul I love. You smell like the glowing embers I take with me into bed to keep me warm. You smell like a lullaby soothing my nightmares, Weaving my dreams into your fingers. You smell like my long coat that I sleep in When you're not with me, so I don't fall apart.
He opened his eyes when he felt gentle hands guiding him to a familiar pillow. He looked into Neil's smiling face as he lay down, before closing his eyes again when sweet sleep enveloped him. He wondered if the cat was still on the windowsill as Neil slipped into bed next to him. Something soft, warm, and fluffy brushed up against his face and settled above his head on the pillow.
Wait! they don't love you like I love you
Wait! they don't love you like I love you
Ma-a-a-aps, wait!
They don't love you like I love you...
TBC