Disclaimer: I do not own Dead Poets Society, otherwise I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.

The first time Todd reads in a Dead Poets Society meeting all hell breaks loose. The book has always passed right over Todd, Todd's hands merely a vessel to transport Five Centuries of Verse between the two people on either side of him. One meeting, though, the book never quite makes it into Neil's outstretched hand after Meeks finishes reading and passes it along. Todd flips through the pages of poetry, looking very much as if nothing is wrong, and the others can do nothing but stare, wide eyed and silent.

"What?" Todd asks, looking up after finding a poem to read.

"You…are going to read. Todd Anderson is going to read in a society meeting." Neil states, his voice flat, but his face looking like Christmas has come early.

Todd nods ever so slightly and the cave explodes with noise. Neil thumps Todd on the back and Charlie moves across the cave to give Todd a high five.

"Shh…shh, let him start reading before he changes his mind." Neil says.

Silence falls almost instantly. Todd doesn't do anything to get rid of the silence.

"Well, go on then." Neil prompts.

"Miracles by Walt Whitman." Todd says. "Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water, Or stand under trees in the woods, Or talk by day with anyone I love, or sleep in the bed at night with anyone I love, Or sit at table at dinner with the rest, Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car, Or watch honey bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon, Or animals feeding in the fields, Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright, Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring; These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles, The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place. To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, Every cubic inch of space is a miracle, Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same, Every foot of the interior swarms with the same. To me the sea is a continual miracle, The fishes that swim-the rocks-the motion of the waves-the ships with the men in them, What stranger miracles are there?"

"Well damn…." Neil says in quiet awe after the short silence that follows Todd's reading.

Later, after the meeting has ended, and Todd and Neil have just returning to their room Neil grabs Todd by his shoulders, holds him at arm's length away, and stares in awe.

"Oh god, I could just kiss you." Neil says without realizing what he's admitting until the words have left his lips.

Neil freezes, drops his arms and takes a few steps back from Todd, hanging his head, unable to look at Todd's reaction.

"I did it to impress you, you know." Todd says, stepping forward and getting in Neil's space in a way he's never gotten in anyone's space before.

"Did you really?" Neil asks, looking up, hopeful.

Todd bites his bottom lip, smiles slightly and nods. Neil smiles, murmurs "It worked." and presses his lips to Todd's.