mumbled_truth | ║ in-character contact ║ (all types of spam welcomed)

The advantage to lying on their bed to read, as opposed to laying out on the sofa, is that from time to time Neil can entice Todd to come lie with him and read. Which, right now, is exactly what he's trying to do-- though he's not employing much of a method of persuasion. He's just glancing over the top of the pages from time to time, with the faintest trace of a smile.

Even if it isn't much of a method of persuasion, it's impossible for Todd to ignore the glances being cast in his direction over the top of the book. That kind of peering and smiling, coming from Neil, is rarely unaccompanied by some time of scheme. He doesn't move just yet but he does stop what he's doing and, from his seat at the desk, tilts his head and looks at Neil.

"You're smiling."

A strong accusation.

"Why shouldn't I smile?"

As schemes go, this is both transparent and simple. And harmless. And, honestly, could be much more easily accomplished by asking Todd to come sit with him, but where would the fun be in that?

But gosh, this bed really is comfortable. He shifts a bit, stretching, letting his book dip in his hands as he focuses his attention on Todd.

"Well, usually, when you're smiling, it means you're up to something."

But that doesn't mean that he won't turn back to the desk, shut the book he had open, and walk over, sitting on the very edge of the bed.

His eyes widen in a fairly credible imitation of utter innocence.

"Me? I'm not up to anything. I'm just reading a book."

See, he's not even going to scoot closer. He's biding his time.

Todd is not buying that imitation, sir.

"When are you ever not up to anything?"

"That's ridiculous."

But he's grinning now. And still waiting. You can't resist forever, Todd.

Todd just laughs. Indeed, he can't resist forever, and he doesn't really see why he should, so he scoots on over himself.

"Well, so are you."

"You might be right," he concedes, pleased that his wicked plans have come to fruition. It is not, to be fair, a terribly developed evil agenda. He just likes being close, and he puts an arm along the back of the pillows to rest behind Todd's shoulders.

"But isn't this better, anyway?"

"Yes."

And Todd settles down into place, satisfied to curl himself against the warmth of Neil's body. He hadn't realized how chilly the room felt, exactly.

Well, it's November; it's bound to get colder and colder, until the midwinter heat starts. Winter tends to make Neil melancholy, but it has its upsides; and right now, it's still brilliantly, beautifully autumn. And with Todd here he's in the best of moods.

"See? I have good ideas."

"Sometimes."

Todd concedes the point, feigning begrudging grumpiness which dissipates entirely when he laughs softly. He rests a hand on the other boy's hip as he nestles his head in against Neil's shoulder.

He doesn't argue the point. This is exactly where he wants to be; or more properly, it's exactly where he wants Todd to be. Both of these things are true, and for a long moment he's contentedly quiet, thinking pleasant thoughts. Which he chooses to voice:

"It was nice having visitors, the other day."

Almost immediately after settling into place, Todd has sort of drifted into a half-dozing contentedness - he doesn't really stir from it, agreeing quite easily and quietly.

"Yeah... it usually is."

"Did you talk to Billy at all?"

It's bittersweet, seeing old friends-- a little more complicated than seeing friends who only come on visitors' days-- but in the end it's comforting, as long as they're not bringing bad news. Which... well, that wasn't bad news, was it? Strange, that's all. It's an uncomfortable topic to bring up. (Maybe he shouldn't have thought of it.)

Todd shakes his head, oblivious to anything more that's going on inside of Neil's head, or anything larger that he's planning to bring up. He's disappointed, really, that he missed Billy, but it had been a busy, crowded weekend, after all.

"I didn't see him."

"Oh," he says simply, staring at the ceiling. "Well, he seemed to be doing pretty well."

"Yeah? That's good..."

Todd shifts slightly, then settles in again, nestled a bit closer because Neil really is nice and warm. He's more alert, though, discussing their friends.

"Did he say how Teddy's doing?"

There's a moment of contemplation before he answers-- slightly too long a moment, maybe. Ridiculous as it is, it still feels awkward to talk about relationship stuff. Even someone else's.

"He said Teddy asked him to marry him. Sort of. Eventually, I guess."

Todd's attention is actually seized more fully by Neil's silence, though the explanation for it is evident as soon as it's broken.

"Oh."

That holds a lot for a single syllable - an awkward, confused bewilderment bordering on shock. Not that it's necessarily bad, it's just... well.

"I didn't-- um. I didn't know that... well, that they could."

That.

"I didn't either. He said it's-- you know, that you can, at least in New York?"

After this long in the City, Neil is sometimes surprised that the future can still surprise him. The idea would never have occurred to him; and the thought of it is...

Strange.

(If things had gone differently...)

The implications of it are obvious, but somehow Todd hasn't really thought through it that far yet. Even being in the City, he doesn't quite think of himself as being affected by things in the future - possibly because as futuristic as the City is, it does seem to exist on its very own timeline.

"Huh."

He's quiet for a moment as he thinks about it.

"Well, that's... I mean, that's good, for them."

"I told him I'd save my congratulations for when it actually happens," he admits softly, with a bit of a laugh. "I think he's kind of nervous about it. Which makes sense, that's... big."

"Well, yeah. I mean... I think most people would get nervous about that."

Which makes him empathize a bit more, trying to imagine how nerve-wracking it must be. And that's really the first he's thinking of the concept it in the context of them, of him and Neil, and that thought sort of catches him off guard. So he swaps it back to Billy.

"Maybe he'll be back again in a few months. We can see how nervous he is then."

He laughs, though it isn't all that easy of a laugh. Keeping this entirely focused on their friend helps, but it's still a bit uncomfortable. They never talk about this sort of thing.

"I have a feeling it'll take more than a couple of months for him to get comfortable with the idea."

After all, back home, Billy's a teenager again. Even if he remembers, and maybe he doesn't, when he's there. Age is a strange sort of distance that creeps up on you. Neil is, perhaps, twenty or twenty-one or seventy, depending on how one does the math; old enough that in the real world, if he'd lived, marriage wouldn't be such an impossible idea. Maybe there could have been a world where they'd wait patiently and choose to walk down the aisle as old men. Or maybe (and maybe likelier) they'd both have wives and children because that was what one ought to do.

But it strikes him, in a way it never has-- not that he'd ever doubted them, outside a stray, miserable curse-- that here, as they are, they might as well be married. What a way to look at it.

"Well, I didn't say he'd necessarily be less nervous. He might be more."

It's easier to talk about Billy, to be happy for him and Teddy, or to laugh sympathetically about how nerve-wracking it all must be, than to consider how close they are to being married themselves. For all intents and purposes, they already are - Todd never has any intention of going home, if he's given a choice in the matter, or of going off and dating someone else (the concept frankly sounds ridiculous), and would never dream of leaving Neil. He's perfectly content to spend the rest of eternity here, in the City, with Neil just as they are. Back home, he'd undoubtedly have a wife by now or soon - if he'd built up the courage to talk to a girl long enough - and be thinking of children. Even if things had been different - if Neil were still there - he doubts the thought ever would have occurred to them. With things being as they are, though, he can't really bear to think of home - he'd likely never realize exactly how much the best friend that he'd lost truly meant to him - so he tries to avoid that entire line of thought as much as possible.

"Maybe that'd be a good sign?" he says, with a note of laughter behind the words. And then he lapses into silence, not sure what more he can say without saying far too much.

It's not an uncomfortable silence, exactly; better than the uncomfortable conversation that might otherwise occur. He takes a deep breath, and lets his eyes fall shut, leaning against Todd.

"It might mean they've stepped it up from eventually."

Todd's content to fall into silence with Neil, though, after that. He just curls his arm more tightly across the other boy and pulls himself close.

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