Anderperry Oneshots Collection

Touch (pt. 2)

Neil sat alone in the cafe, tapping his foot to his own erratic heartbeat. 

He was waiting for Todd, and he couldn't quite wrap his head around it. Todd. The same Todd he'd thought about every day for years. 

Todd Anderson, whom he'd looked up in the phonebook every couple months, but could never find.

"Hey."

The Todd who now was sliding into the seat across from him.

"Hey," Neil said, nervously pushing the second cup over to him. "I got you this."

Todd took a sip of his raspberry tea and smiled. It tasted like Welton. "You remember?"

"You can only spill raspberry tea on my homework so many times before it's etched in there," Neil smiled. 

Todd felt his cheeks get red. "That was once," he defended. 

"Like I said," Neil tapped the side of his head, "etched in there."

Todd laughed. This felt natural; wonderful. Like they had been together all this time. 

"So you still read?" Neil asked before sipping his coffee.

"Every day," Todd agreed. "You don't?"

"There's hardly any time to," Neil sighed. "Between work, and...well, it's all work now. All of it. I sold most of my books to pay off my student loans."

"Neil Perry," Todd tsked, "Have you become boring?"

Neil shrugged, admitting defeat. 

"Then we're going to the bookstore."

"We..." Neil tried. "Are we not on a coffee date?"

"Now we're on a shopping date."

-

The bell on the door rang its little signal tune as the pair swung it open. Or, really, Neil had to, as well as hold open the door for Todd, who had a paper cup in one hand and a broken wrist on the other.

Todd muttered something like a thank you before leading Neil through the vast store. 

They wove between shelves, breathing in that smell of paper and dust that was all too familiar.

"Where should we start?" Todd asked, walking between sections. 

"That's hardly a question," Neil said, grabbing him by the arm to the poetry collection. 

"Oh, um..." Todd said quietly. Small protests rose from his chest, but he didn't have it in him to stop Neil. 

The poetry section was somewhere in the back, so enclosed that the light from the front windows couldn't reach it. In a way, it was perfect for its target demographic. Private. 

Neil browsed, looking for any names that would jump out at him, when all of a sudden, one did. 

"Todd..." he said, plucking the book off the shelf. 

It was blue leather-bound, with silver lettering.

And Still We Sleep

Todd Anderson

And on the inside, the very first thing written. 

To Neil Perry, whom I may never see again. I love you eternally.

 Todd hoped that the dimmer light would help conceal the violent scarlet nipping his cheeks, his nose, his ears. 

"Todd, you..." Neil said. His eyes were fixed on the dedication, that beautiful phrase. "...you published a book?"

"I was really banking on the idea that you'd never see it."

"How long ago was this?"

Years, probably, Neil thought. Long enough for him to forget it, forget the feeling attached to it. Long enough for him to retract that statement that made his heart beat with such force...

"Last month," Todd said. He'd have grabbed it from Neil's hands if he'd been able to. "I'm sorry, I mean...for including your name. I can contact my publisher, if you want, and have them take it out of any other copies..."

"Todd," Neil laughed, "I'm not going to kill your darlings. I think it's lovely."

Todd's heart almost stopped. "You do?"

"I think I'll buy it," Neil drew the book close to his chest. "I've always loved reading your writing."

Lovely, the word rang in Todd's head. He thinks it's lovely.

"Look at this," Todd said, setting his drink on the floor to pick up a copy of Leaves of Grass. He flippes to a specific page. "Do you remember this?"

Neil nodded. "I do, but remind me anyway."

Todd only read the last lines of the poem, mirroring Keating in every way he could. 

"The question, O me, so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life? Answer. That you are here—that life exists and identity—"

"That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse," Neil finished. He looked at Todd, painfully aware of the gap between them. 

They locked eyes, hardly daring to breathe. 

Remember, Todd thought. I love you. Please remember that...

Neil's hand found its way to Todd's chin, coping his fingers to tilt his head slightly upwards. 

"Do you remember this?" Neil asked softly.

"I do," Todd replied. It was true. 

That same move that Neil pulled all those times, all those nights ago. During high school, when they said they loved each other instead of hiding it in books. When they knew each other, completely. 

It was just like Welton. 

"But remind me anyway."

At his cue of permission, Neil kissed him. Soft and warm and perfect and fuck, Neil couldn't think.

His entire world was there with him. Standing in front of him. 

Kissing him back.