(no subject)
Title: The Old Forest
Author: irmelin
Fandom: Dead Poets' Society
Pairing: Charlie/Meeks
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I just playing with them.
The Old Forest
The chilly night air came as a shock after the warm, close air of the cave. Meeks wrapped his coat closer around him, and stuck his hands in his pockets, looking for his gloves. They weren’t there. He cursed under his breath and turned back to the cave.
“Hey, Meeks!” Neil shouted after him. “You coming?”
“I forgot my gloves,” Meeks called over his shoulder. “Hang on a minute.”
It took him a while to see anything at all in the cave, the smoke from the recently put out fire still lingered, making him cough. After a search that relied mostly on touch he finally found his gloves and left. But when he came out again the forest was quiet and empty.
“Right,” he said to himself and sighed. “Thanks for waiting, guys.” He put on the gloves, pulled his hood up and looked around uneasily. An owl howled somewhere in the distance, the lonely sound echoing several times. It had begun to snow again, big snowflakes slowly finding their way down. The bare branches of the trees stood out clearly against the white ground and the dark grey of the clouded sky. If he squinted, it looked almost like long arms, reaching out and...
Suddenly there was the unmistakable sound of snow crunching under feet and someone grabbed hold of his shoulders from behind.
“I am a dead poet!”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Charlie!” Meeks shook off Charlie’s hands quickly, taking a few steps away. Glaring at Charlie he took a couple of deep breaths, trying to stop his heart from beating like it was about to break free from his chest. “That was scary the first two times, but since that it has lost some of its novelty, don’t you think?”
“No,” Charlie said, smiling smugly. “You’re shaking like a leaf, Meeks. Don’t try to deny it.”
“Whatever,” Meeks muttered. “We should head back.”
“Why?” Charlie asked, walking further into the forest. “I’ve never really thought about this place at night. We’re always running to and from the meetings. It’s a shame, really. This is nice.” He turned to look at Meeks, blinking away the snowflakes that got caught in his eyelashes.
“It’s not nice,” Meeks objected, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “It’s cold and it’s late. I would like to get some sleep. I have to get up early to finish my trig assignment.”
“Like you need sleep to do that,” Charlie scoffed. “Come on, don’t be such a bore. Carpe Diem, right?”
“Carpe Noctum might be more appropriate,” Meeks said, leaning against the huge trunk of a tree, an oak maybe, he thought, in resignation.
“Right,” Charlie agreed easily. “It’s a shame we don’t use this forest more. We should have biology classes here. Practice is always better than theory, right?”
Meeks, who had always preferred theory didn’t reply. Instead he looked up at the sky, frowning.
“We really should go back, Charlie,” he said. “It’s snowing heavier now.”
Charlie sighed loudly and walked over to Meeks, placing his hands on the tree on each side of Meeks’ shoulders, pressing him against the trunk. There were snowflakes in his hair, glittering faintly as they slowly melted.
“A bit of snow never killed anyone.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure...” Meeks started, but didn’t get further than that because suddenly Charlie was kissing him, cold, chapped lips covering his own.
“... that a bit of snow has killed quite a lot of people over time,” he continued when Charlie pulled back.
Charlie stared at him. “Is that all you have to say? I just kissed you.”
“I noticed,” Meeks said, nodding, because he didn’t have the faintest idea what else to do. “What?” he asked when Charlie just kept staring. “Did you expect me to swoon?”
“No,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes, “but...”
“It’s not like I’ve never been kissed before, you know,” Meeks said, taking advantage of Charlie’s surprise to duck out from under his arms. He was lying through his teeth, of course, but he had always prided himself on being quite a good liar.
“You’re lying,” Charlie said nonetheless, the disbelief clear in his voice.
Meeks glared at him. “Is that so impossible?”
“Well, yes!” Charlie said honestly, making a vague gesture with his hands that Meeks had no idea what it was supposed to illustrate.
“Right. Thanks a lot,” he said, hurt, looking down, brushing off snow from his sleeves.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Charlie sighed. “But if you’d been kissed, you would have told me.”
“I don’t tell you everything,” Meeks muttered, even though he realised that what Charlie said was probably true.
Charlie laughed. “Sure you do.” He reached out to grab hold of Meeks’ coat and pulled him close. “You tell me absolutely everything. You’ve been doing that for years.”
“No, I haven’t,” Meeks protested, still looking down.
“Yes, you have,” Charlie insisted. “Because you’re trying to impress me. There’s no need to, since you’re the most intelligent person I know and I’ve been impressed with you since the day we met, but you still do.”
Meeks blushed fiercely at the compliment and when he looked up Charlie smiled before kissing him again. He tasted like smoke and red apples and strangely familiar and Meeks smiled into the kiss.
“You know,” he said as they pulled apart when the lack of oxygen became urgent, relieved that his voice sounded somewhat normal, “Flattery is quite enough for helping you with Latin. You don’t have to pay me with sex.” He winked at Charlie, feeling quite pleased with himself, and started walking back toward the school as Charlie gasped in feigned shock.
“Steven Meeks!” he exclaimed. “Where did you learn such language? If your mother could hear you now.” He started jogging to catch up with Meeks. “Or if Nolan could hear you!” They both started running as Charlie threatened to inform Mr. Nolan of the level of depravity among his students. Their laughter lingered in the forest a long time after they disappeared.
Author: irmelin
Fandom: Dead Poets' Society
Pairing: Charlie/Meeks
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I just playing with them.
The Old Forest
The chilly night air came as a shock after the warm, close air of the cave. Meeks wrapped his coat closer around him, and stuck his hands in his pockets, looking for his gloves. They weren’t there. He cursed under his breath and turned back to the cave.
“Hey, Meeks!” Neil shouted after him. “You coming?”
“I forgot my gloves,” Meeks called over his shoulder. “Hang on a minute.”
It took him a while to see anything at all in the cave, the smoke from the recently put out fire still lingered, making him cough. After a search that relied mostly on touch he finally found his gloves and left. But when he came out again the forest was quiet and empty.
“Right,” he said to himself and sighed. “Thanks for waiting, guys.” He put on the gloves, pulled his hood up and looked around uneasily. An owl howled somewhere in the distance, the lonely sound echoing several times. It had begun to snow again, big snowflakes slowly finding their way down. The bare branches of the trees stood out clearly against the white ground and the dark grey of the clouded sky. If he squinted, it looked almost like long arms, reaching out and...
Suddenly there was the unmistakable sound of snow crunching under feet and someone grabbed hold of his shoulders from behind.
“I am a dead poet!”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Charlie!” Meeks shook off Charlie’s hands quickly, taking a few steps away. Glaring at Charlie he took a couple of deep breaths, trying to stop his heart from beating like it was about to break free from his chest. “That was scary the first two times, but since that it has lost some of its novelty, don’t you think?”
“No,” Charlie said, smiling smugly. “You’re shaking like a leaf, Meeks. Don’t try to deny it.”
“Whatever,” Meeks muttered. “We should head back.”
“Why?” Charlie asked, walking further into the forest. “I’ve never really thought about this place at night. We’re always running to and from the meetings. It’s a shame, really. This is nice.” He turned to look at Meeks, blinking away the snowflakes that got caught in his eyelashes.
“It’s not nice,” Meeks objected, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “It’s cold and it’s late. I would like to get some sleep. I have to get up early to finish my trig assignment.”
“Like you need sleep to do that,” Charlie scoffed. “Come on, don’t be such a bore. Carpe Diem, right?”
“Carpe Noctum might be more appropriate,” Meeks said, leaning against the huge trunk of a tree, an oak maybe, he thought, in resignation.
“Right,” Charlie agreed easily. “It’s a shame we don’t use this forest more. We should have biology classes here. Practice is always better than theory, right?”
Meeks, who had always preferred theory didn’t reply. Instead he looked up at the sky, frowning.
“We really should go back, Charlie,” he said. “It’s snowing heavier now.”
Charlie sighed loudly and walked over to Meeks, placing his hands on the tree on each side of Meeks’ shoulders, pressing him against the trunk. There were snowflakes in his hair, glittering faintly as they slowly melted.
“A bit of snow never killed anyone.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure...” Meeks started, but didn’t get further than that because suddenly Charlie was kissing him, cold, chapped lips covering his own.
“... that a bit of snow has killed quite a lot of people over time,” he continued when Charlie pulled back.
Charlie stared at him. “Is that all you have to say? I just kissed you.”
“I noticed,” Meeks said, nodding, because he didn’t have the faintest idea what else to do. “What?” he asked when Charlie just kept staring. “Did you expect me to swoon?”
“No,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes, “but...”
“It’s not like I’ve never been kissed before, you know,” Meeks said, taking advantage of Charlie’s surprise to duck out from under his arms. He was lying through his teeth, of course, but he had always prided himself on being quite a good liar.
“You’re lying,” Charlie said nonetheless, the disbelief clear in his voice.
Meeks glared at him. “Is that so impossible?”
“Well, yes!” Charlie said honestly, making a vague gesture with his hands that Meeks had no idea what it was supposed to illustrate.
“Right. Thanks a lot,” he said, hurt, looking down, brushing off snow from his sleeves.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Charlie sighed. “But if you’d been kissed, you would have told me.”
“I don’t tell you everything,” Meeks muttered, even though he realised that what Charlie said was probably true.
Charlie laughed. “Sure you do.” He reached out to grab hold of Meeks’ coat and pulled him close. “You tell me absolutely everything. You’ve been doing that for years.”
“No, I haven’t,” Meeks protested, still looking down.
“Yes, you have,” Charlie insisted. “Because you’re trying to impress me. There’s no need to, since you’re the most intelligent person I know and I’ve been impressed with you since the day we met, but you still do.”
Meeks blushed fiercely at the compliment and when he looked up Charlie smiled before kissing him again. He tasted like smoke and red apples and strangely familiar and Meeks smiled into the kiss.
“You know,” he said as they pulled apart when the lack of oxygen became urgent, relieved that his voice sounded somewhat normal, “Flattery is quite enough for helping you with Latin. You don’t have to pay me with sex.” He winked at Charlie, feeling quite pleased with himself, and started walking back toward the school as Charlie gasped in feigned shock.
“Steven Meeks!” he exclaimed. “Where did you learn such language? If your mother could hear you now.” He started jogging to catch up with Meeks. “Or if Nolan could hear you!” They both started running as Charlie threatened to inform Mr. Nolan of the level of depravity among his students. Their laughter lingered in the forest a long time after they disappeared.