This story is actually part 3 of a 3 part fic posted in its entirety on my AO3 account ( /works/12217242), also titled Inside the Hush. You can totally read this part without reading the first two chapters! The only reason those first two aren't posted here is because they are explicit.

This story is dedicated to trialraces, who encouraged the last two chapters into existence. Thanks again, friend.

One would think that having the senior rec room all to themselves would make it easy to snag the attention of one another, but apparently that was too much to hope for.

"Neil." Charlie snapped his fingers at the teen. At last he was snared, and he pulled away from the chemistry textbook he was working in.

"Huh?"

Charlie leaned his hip against Meeks' chair. "Greetings, space cadet. Your ears on?"

Pitts laughed from the fold of his arms on the table.

Brows furrowing, Neil slipped off his reading glasses. "Seems so. What's the matter?"

"I need to find a poem for the meeting when Todd gets back," he said. "Can I borrow Five Centuries?"

"Uh. Yeah, sure. It's in my desk." Dismissing him, the glasses returned to their perch on his nose, and said nose tipped back into the book.

Charlie threw a baffled look at Meeks, who only shrugged. That brainy devil knew something about the funk Neil had been in lately, Charlie was certain, but of course Meeks kept secrets better than a steel safe.

That left Charlie to connect the dots on his own, since no one else had any guess what was up with Neil. It definitely had to do with Todd, that much was obvious, but why such an overreaction still remained a mystery. Todd had only been gone a little over a week, away at some fancy award ceremony for his brother. Knox had suggested that perhaps it was the fact that Todd had been delayed an extra day, but Charlie had seen this change in behavior days before they got that message.

For the time being, Charlie let it go. He wanted to find a lighthearted poem to read for Todd, knowing the kid would need a pick-me-up upon his return. (By now all of them knew that anything to do with his brother put him in a state.) With a "be right back", he set out on his mission.

As he lifted the poetry book from Neil's desk drawer, two stacks of folded paper it had been holding in place toppled over in a wave. Neil's name was neatly scrawled over the front of half, while the others were blank.

The unassuming nature of their outsides, Charlie soon discovered, did not do the contents justice.

ϟ ϟ ϟ

"Neil Perry, you swain." Immediately upon returning to the rec room, Charlie slapped the stack of papers onto the table.

"What's that?" Pitts asked.

"It's poetry," answered Charlie, beaming. "Love poetry. Given and received by our Neil. Received, anyway. You've got to send these, pal."

"What the hell, Charlie?" Neil looked aghast between his friend and the love notes. He tried to corral them toward himself. "Where did you get these?"

The other boy held up Five Centuries of Verse. "They were in the way."

Before Neil could respond, the door creaked open and a familiar head of blonde hair poked in.

"Hey, look who it is! Come join us," Meeks said first. Todd smiled at the welcome and slipped into the room.

Charlie, Pitts, and Neil greeted him just as casually. Neil seemed to inflate at the sight of him.

"You look rested," Meeks commented, earning some of Todd's usual awkwardness.

"Yeah," said the blonde. He took the seat across from Neil. "If there's anything I get from time with my family, it's sleep."

Charlie dropped into the empty chair beside Todd. "How was the party? Sneak any champagne?"

This earned him a shy yet gratified smile.

"We have a hellion in our midst!"

The boy chuckled. "My aunt practically poured it down my throat!"

"Excuses, excuses," teased Meeks.

Grinning, the actor among them crossed his arms over his textbook. "So what kept you?" he asked Todd. Like a switch had been flipped, it seemed Neil's inner light returned with the blonde.

"We missed our train."

"I hate taking the train," groused Pitts.

A look of horror dawned on Neil's face as Todd picked up one of the love notes. "What are these?" he asked. He started reading, and his brows shot up.

"Our Neil's got a girl," Charlie told him with pride.

The blonde's eyes flicked up to Neil.

"It's nothing. I mean, it is, but it's—" Neil's chair scraped backward across the carpet as he stood and set about gathering up the collection of notes. "Look, can we all just agree to forget this ever happened?"

Meeks and Pitts concurred easily enough, but Charlie still had some curiosity.

He kicked his foot up on the chair across from him, saying, "You haven't even told us about her! C'mon, Neil, you know we date vicariously through each other."

"She's thoughtful, and beautiful, and very important to me," Neil snapped, stuffing the notes in his chemistry book before bagging it and heading for the door.

Todd, startled and still holding a poem, watched Neil go.

Charlie took up a pencil and rolled it between his fingers. "I don't know what his deal is. Those were letters to and from his girl, so it's not like it's one-sided."

"Maybe they broke up and he's still sore about it," offered Pitts, sitting up from his slouch.

While Charlie began to chew on this, Todd got to his feet.

"I need to unpack," he said simply.

They let him go with an offhanded, "See you at dinner."

ϟ ϟ ϟ

As Todd entered their bedroom, he did so slowly, uncertain. Neil was busy stashing away the papers in his desk drawer. When he finally noticed the blonde he did a double take.

Avoiding Todd's gaze, Neil opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"I'm glad I'm home," Todd said eventually.

This seemed to jolt the other into motion. He shut the drawer and closed the space between them.

"So much for a warm welcome, huh?" Neil said, the words drenched in self-deprecation. His eyes still evading contact, he ran a hand along Todd's arm.

Looking down at the note still in his grasp, Todd ventured, "What's so bad about them?"

Neil retracted his arm to gesture at the page. "They're terrible! Compared to yours, they're junk. They may as well have been written by a child." He laughed, but it was hollow.

"No—Neil. This is perfect." Todd unfolded the note again to see the poem inside. "You wrote this for me?"

"Of course, dummy. Who else would I write that stuff for?"

Shrugging, Todd looked up and caught Neil's eyes. "Can I read the rest of them?"

"They're really not, um, any good," he said with a half-hearted laugh. "At all."

"Well, can I decide that?"

Neil shifted. After an uncomfortably long pause, he retreated to his desk. Stiltedly, he said, "You should unpack before dinner."

Blinking rapidly, Todd nodded, though Neil couldn't see.

In tense silence, they went about their own business. The only sound came from the sweep of Neil's page turns and the wood on wood scrape of Todd's drawers.

Todd felt like he was choking on their discomfort. This was not how he imagined his return would go. They were supposed to hang out with the other Poets, or hole themselves up in their bedroom and catch up on what they missed—preferably in one of their beds, swathed in blankets and the protective presence of the other.

He could feel everything crowding in on him, weighing down on his shoulders like a laden yoke. It could not simply be attributed to this sudden distance between them, but also to the emotional toll of the week away. Try as he may, the latter refused to fade into the background, even for a short time.

As he thought this, he could feel his throat closing up, and his eyes burning, but no tears fell. He refused to allow it here.

It was a wrestle to control this, but finally, like an act of otherworldly mercy, the dinner bell clanged.

Neil got to his feet, pulling on a sweater before going to the door. When Todd didn't follow him out, he poked his head back in.

"Are you coming?"

Todd very intentionally kept his eyes on his suitcase. He hoped Neil didn't notice the faintest tint of huskiness in his voice as he replied, "Actually, I want to take a shower before everyone else comes in."

This was an idea he previously entertained late at night on the train home, as he imagined what his first night back at Welton would look like. It was forgotten easily enough, lost in the fantasy of reuniting with Neil and their friends, but in this moment he embraced it like a lifeline.

"Ah. Beat the herd," Neil agreed awkwardly. "Well, I'll bring something back for you."

"Thanks."

After a stretch of hesitance, Neil left.

ϟ ϟ ϟ

The shower in the far left corner, Todd had decided around mid-November, was the best one. Or, at the very least, it was his personal preference. The tile wall had fewer chips, the soap dish was recessed, unlike the others (saving him from many horrible head or elbow clashes with the thing), and the drain wasn't right underfoot. He hated the feeling of standing on a grate, even one as small as these.

So this was the shower he choose now. His clothes and towel folded on the long bench by the lockers, he padded across the floor and turned on the shower with a squeeeak of the knobs.

Frigid water melted until it was lukewarm. Even that was enough to heat his bones, giving him some form of comfort as he buckled under the weight of his emotions. He didn't think there were tears, but when he dunted his forehead against the tile a single hiccup wrenched itself from his chest. He swallowed down the ones which wished to follow.

He tried to focus only on the sensation of the water slithering down his scalp, but it was fruitless. Malicious thoughts took jabs at him left and right, forcing him deeper into their spiteful grasp.

But suddenly he was ripped from his mind with a startled jump. A wiry arm curled low over his stomach, pulling him back into a warm body.

"It's just me," came Neil's voice. He could feel the rumble of it from the other boy's chest.

Todd turned in his hold. Neil was as naked as he, and looked equally troubled.

"Um." Todd tried to swallow the emotional clog in his throat, but when it wouldn't budge, he continued anyway. "To be honest, I'm not in the mood for... you know."

Neil brought around his other arm, completely encircling Todd's waist. "I just want to be with you," he murmured.

As if it was all he needed to hear, Todd melted against Neil, returning the embrace. Neil buried his head in the crook of the blonde's neck.

Slowly, so as not to slip, Todd backed them up so Neil could share the shower spray. Like a silent thank you, Neil's hold tightened.

They stood like that for some time, taking solace in one another. Somewhere along the line, one of Todd's hands rose to pet the hair on the back of Neil's head.

Eventually, Neil pulled away from the blonde's neck. He tried to look Todd in the face, but the water forced him to squint against it. Todd chuckled, turning just enough that the water was assaulting their shoulders instead.

"You seemed so sad," Neil commented, brushing Todd's wet bangs away from his eyes. "It wasn't just me, was it?"

"No." Todd wanted to curl back into him, but said, "This week was terrible."

"What happened?"

"Same thing that always happens," he said dryly. "Everyone loves my brother. They all want me to be like him, but no one believes it'll happen. It's like... I don't matter," he said for the first time. It felt like a revelation, but only wrought dismay. "I'm completely unnecessary."

"What are you talking about?" Neil seemed just as distraught by the words. "You matter. You matter to all of us. Me, the guys, Keating. And—and there will be more people in the future."

"W-well you don't know that. Who knows what anyone thinks about me? Probably—probably nothing at all, just like my parents."

"By that logic, you have no room to suggest anyone doesn't care about you," Neil said.

Todd didn't fire back, but it was obvious his mind wasn't changed. Neil had to wonder if it could be changed.

Still, he said, "I can tell you for certain that I care about you, Todd."

This brought up Todd's gaze to meet his.

"And you can't deny that," he added. "I'm the only one who can tell you how I feel."

He was given a sad but touched smile by the boy in his arms. Before he could do it himself, Todd closed the gap between their lips, instigating their first kiss since his return. It did much for loosening the knots in their stomachs.

A series of kisses followed, each heavier than than the last. They reached a passionate peak when Neil's touch wandered lower and took handfuls of Todd's rear. He had to be reminded that they were in a communal shower, and though Neil only answered with a lopsided grin, he did behave. The water was cooling anyway, forcing them to pull apart so Todd could finish washing, but that didn't separate them much.

Although he told Neil he didn't have to stick around, Neil had none of it. He offered to help wash Todd's body, but was rebuffed with a truly happy laugh from the boy.

However, he was allowed to help shampoo Todd's hair, which was enough for him. With Todd's eyes closed against the threat of soap, he couldn't see Neil's sporadic kisses coming. They broke down in giggles when one poorly timed kiss ended with them spitting out bubbles.

Even the rinsing process was riddled with long, watery kisses, as if they were making up for lost time. But at last the water ran cold and their bodies were stirring, so they dried and changed and slipped back into their bedroom. Dinner was nearly over, and they weren't keen on running into nosy dormmates.

"We should do that more often," Neil said, tossing his towel over the bar at the foot of his bed.

Todd looked over from where he was toweling his hair. "Someone would walk in on us eventually."

Neil made a face. "Then I guess we'll just have to get a place of our own with a shower to play in."

A flush welled in Todd's cheeks at the insinuation, and it touched Neil's face as well, but he didn't laugh it off or take it back.

Verbal response evaded Todd, but his blush must have been enough because Neil smirked before rounding on his desk. Draping the towel over his shoulders, Todd tended to the last few garments in his suitcase, putting them away and storing the case under his bed.

When he turned around, a mundane question on his tongue, Neil was there waiting. His hands were full with the poems from earlier. "I want you to read these."

Thrown by the abrupt change, Todd stammered, "Are you sure? I—I mean—"

"I want you to understand how much you mean to me," Neil said, tense but determined.

"O-okay." Todd sat on his bed, and Neil transferred the messy pile on to the blanket before him.

"Thanks to Charlie, they're all mixed together," Neil muttered, but the ire faded when he caught the sweetly pleased look on Todd's face as he took in the spread. It left the brunette a tad dazed.

After a few seconds of shifting through, Todd blurted, "You kept the ones I wrote."

Unsure what to do with himself, Neil settled for slipping into the space behind Todd so he could rest against him.

"They're from you," was his explanation.

A while passed, with Todd reading and Neil reveling in his presence. He tried not to read over Todd's shoulder for fear of cringing hard enough to tear a muscle, but this was difficult to keep up when the blonde seemed so beguiled. It made him long to know which phrases his little mindless sounds were a reaction to.

Instead of this, he took to combing his fingers through Todd's damp hair, getting lost in the thickness and repetition.

"I read them every day you were gone," Neil admitted. It was so quiet, he didn't think Todd would hear it. He wasn't sure whether he would have preferred that, but it did feel good to get it off his chest. The poems Todd wrote to him were his prized possessions. Which, he supposed, he ought to be hiding better, if Charlie found them so easily.

Todd had gone still, he noticed suddenly. He tried to peer at the side of Todd's face, but his eyes slipped to the note in the blonde's hand. It was difficult not to read it, considering the deceptively simple trio of words written inside.

"I love you," it read.

"...I forgot about that one."

Todd was painfully silent for a horrifying length of time, during which Neil contemplated the many outrageous outs and lies he could conjure up to wave away the note and its worth.

But then Todd asked quietly, "Neil, can I keep this?"

"Yes. Of course!" Relief abundant, Neil wrapped his arms around Todd's waist. "Take all of them. They're yours."

A chilly hand came up to cover one of Neil's, lacing their fingers together. "Thank you."

Dropping a kiss on the back of his neck, the brunette added, "Now you can't doubt that you're important to someone."

Todd huffed. He made the effort to sort the papers into piles of his and Neil's, then got to his feet, took the stack of poems and notes Neil wrote him, and hid them away in his closet. Taking inspiration, Neil did much the same with his own pile.

Satisfied with the new hiding spot at the back of his underwear drawer, he intended to dive in bed and curl up under the blankets. His feet always felt doubly cold after showers.

Todd was perched on his desk chair, hunched over and scribbling away. This was not unusual these days, as the more poetry they read, the more inspiration he seemed to find, and the Poets had been meeting bi-weekly for the last several weeks.

Just as Neil was comfortable beneath his blanket, head half buried in his pillow—well, Todd's pillow, which he had swiped while Todd was away—the mattress sank beside him. He opened one eye to watch Todd, who held out a folded page with Neil's name scrawled over the front.

Eagerly, Neil sat up and accepted the note, sending a grin to his friend. He opened it up; inside in a more careful version of Todd's usual scratch, it read,

"No combination of words can express how much I love you, but they can remind you that I do. This is a reminder."