mywholecry (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mywholecry) wrote2009-04-01 02:57 pm
mywholecry) wrote2009-04-01 02:57 pm
this is the sound of settling
HAPPY EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY TO ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
noneedofcrepe ! Go buy cigarettes and lottery tickets and porn!
I wrote an eensy, g-rated Dead Poets drabble, which is weird, because originally I intended to write nc17-rated Harry Potter, but it. . .didn't happen.
Title from a line in Cormac McCarthy's crazy post-apocalyptic novel: The Road.
if he is not the word of god (then god never spoke)
“Who was that?” Charlie asks, with nothing smart to say, no smirk on his face.
“A friend.” Neil says, and his face is flawless, a secret.
Later, that night, Todd grabs his arm and makes sure they are the last ones out, and Neil laughs. It echoes in and out of the cave, dancing around Todd’s head. When he looks down, he realizes that he is still holding Neil there, next to him, and he blushes.
“Why did you do that?” he asks, a little softly. He’s not angry, just maybe curious (fascinated.)
“Because people need to hear what you have to say.” Neil says, and his grin is too much for Todd to look at without smiling himself, the arm thrown around his shoulder more comfortable than anything else. Normal.
“Then why are you saying it?”
“If you won’t, someone has to.”
And he lets himself be dragged through the woods, a warm hand in his, feeling the energy under Neil’s skin that calls for attention attention attention, and it doesn’t mean anything but he can’t help but hold tight and wonder.
.
n
noneedofcrepe ! Go buy cigarettes and lottery tickets and porn!I wrote an eensy, g-rated Dead Poets drabble, which is weird, because originally I intended to write nc17-rated Harry Potter, but it. . .didn't happen.
Title from a line in Cormac McCarthy's crazy post-apocalyptic novel: The Road.
if he is not the word of god (then god never spoke)
Dead Poets Society; 200ish words; Neil/Todd preslash; G
It’s at the meeting, one night, when Todd feels his heart break and swell all at once. When there are his words on Neil’s lips, stolen hushed words, and everyone shuts up this time. Everyone listens.“Who was that?” Charlie asks, with nothing smart to say, no smirk on his face.
“A friend.” Neil says, and his face is flawless, a secret.
Later, that night, Todd grabs his arm and makes sure they are the last ones out, and Neil laughs. It echoes in and out of the cave, dancing around Todd’s head. When he looks down, he realizes that he is still holding Neil there, next to him, and he blushes.
“Why did you do that?” he asks, a little softly. He’s not angry, just maybe curious (fascinated.)
“Because people need to hear what you have to say.” Neil says, and his grin is too much for Todd to look at without smiling himself, the arm thrown around his shoulder more comfortable than anything else. Normal.
“Then why are you saying it?”
“If you won’t, someone has to.”
And he lets himself be dragged through the woods, a warm hand in his, feeling the energy under Neil’s skin that calls for attention attention attention, and it doesn’t mean anything but he can’t help but hold tight and wonder.
.
n