"S'mores!"

Todd lifted his head from the copy of The Lord of the Rings his brother had sent him, mouth slightly open as he tried to replay Neil's words. "I—what?"

"S'mores," Neil repeated in a tone that told Todd his question seemed bizarre. "We should make some at the next meeting."

"That's… that's great, Neil," Todd said in a tone that was supposed to tell Neil he was in fact being the odd one. "But where exactly are you planning on getting them? We spent all our money that time we went roller-skating."

"Okay, so maybe I don't have it all thought out yet." Neil smiled in that way that made his eyes light up with the innate kindness in his soul and also the knowledge that yes, he was adorable, thank you very much, and that Todd would do pretty much anything he suggested. "But I think it would be really fun for us to… do that marshmallow thing. You know, fry them over the fire. Cook them?"

"The official word for what you plan on doing to those marshmallows?"

"Yeah."

"No idea." Todd sighed and thought for a moment. "But I guess… We can ask someone to buy supplies in town, but we're not an official club, we can't write it out as an expense. How much do s'mores cost, anyway?"

It would be far more realistic to put the question to the whole club pool money to purchase the necessary ingredients rather than interrupt Todd's first read of a new book. But he'd gotten pretty far in it already and Neil was so excited. Todd shook his head, fighting down the thoughts that insisted Neil was far more adorable than he was exhausting when he put his mind to something, marked his page, and turned his whole attention to his excitable boyfriend.

.oOo.

S'mores were eaten at summer camp. They were eaten with especially kind and interesting scout leaders, not that Todd had ever experienced either. He'd dropped out of the boy scouts when he was nine, anyway, much to his family's disappointment, but Jeff had always been okay about it.

"It's just not your thing," he'd said when Todd had opened up about the shame of quitting something, and suggested that Todd pick up rowing.

Todd hated rowing.

He got to quit when he came to Welton, and no one urged him to get out of his shell more than necessary, and even then, the shenanigans he was pulled into involved reading poetry around an open fire and going into town with his boyfriend, so—even if his parents would never approve—Todd was glad that he was able to get out of his shell on his own terms. And maybe some terms that belonged to Neil, but he was mostly gentle about it, so Todd allowed himself to be pulled along.

It wasn't hard to let it all happen, anyway, not when the ideas involved s'mores. Not that they'd actually managed to procure any yet. No one had enough pocket money to donate fully to the cause, even though it was entered onto the official club to-do-list. Right above "make Todd lead a meeting" and below "get Meeks to write something without stupid puns in it" and with as great a likelihood of success as the aforementioned tasks.

.oOo.

"You'd think with how rich our dads are, we'd be able to buy some sweets."

"The only sweet I need… is you."

It was awful even when Todd remembered it: they'd been joking around, playing, and he liked cheesy romance as much as the next guy, but that had pushed it. Had Charlie said it or Knox? It would be better if it had been Charlie because he didn't really have to worry about courting a real person that expected real poetry.

They weren't any closer to getting the full s'more experience, but Todd had officially started a fund. Neil had seemed to forget about the idea all-together, never one for dwelling on such small roadblocks—not to mention the new play he was in, a production of King Lear that his father had begrudgingly allowed him to participate in.

No matter. That gave Todd enough time to think of something. Maybe Jeff could send him money rather than a book this time.

When he wrote to Jeff, though, he didn't ask for money. Instead, he finished the letter quickly and made it downstairs to the mail room right when dinner was letting out. Perfect.

He grabbed the first upperclassman he saw by the arm.

"Anderson?" he guy furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you doing, man? Let go."

"No, wait." Todd swallowed. Here went nothing. "Just one second, hear me out. You, your friends, whoever needs this, English homework, one-two cents per assignment, depending."

He let the guy go when his face shifted from confusion to a distinct punchiness, and hoped that when he walked away, it would move a bit more towards acceptance.

.oOo.

"It's our last meeting," Neil said softly, slinging an arm around Todd's shoulder. "You sure you haven't changed your mind about leading it?"

Todd hummed. "Would it make you happy?"

"Only if you enjoy it."

How could Todd say no to that face? Seriously, how? He shook his head lest he become distracted before the meeting—and make Neil distracted as a result—and took Neil's hand. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

That fucking smile. God. Neil had the best smile a human being could possibly have, and it worked wonders on Todd's already-weak will. "Yes, okay, I'll do it."

"Good!"

Neil's smile impossibly got larger and he leaned forward to peck a triumphant kiss onto Todd's lips.

Once they'd successfully snuck out and into the cave and Todd had stood to deliver the opening message, he made it his first order as meeting leader: s'mores, paid for with love by the past few months' work.