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"It looks good on you."

"You think everything looks good on me."

"Actually," Nico says, grinning wolfishly, "I think nothing looks absolutely great on you."

Will blinks. It takes him a second -- not a perfect line, Nico will admit -- but there is an exact moment where the meaning registers and his bright eyes widen and his face goes scarlet. Red as sunrise, as strawberries; he glows, a little, and punches Nico in the shoulder so hard he would cry from the pain if he wasn't so busy crying from laughter.

"We are in public," Will hisses, steam beginning to curl from his hair.

"Your face," Nico wheezes.

Will punches him again but it's a little softer, this time, and he sits in the corner of their cramped changeroom in this weird-smelling Kohl's and hunches in on himself so far his chin hits his chest, too-small shoulders of the plasticky suit jacket sticking up a little. Nico laughs for too long, probably, and he shouldn't, really, because Will is sensitive enough right now and Nico is not helping.

But he is so cute, when he scowls. One eye squints just barely more than the other. And it's hard to get this kind of a reaction from him.

Nico guesses because Will could hear the truth in the sentence, that he is so flustered.

"I do think you look good," Nico offers, voice a little hoarse. He accompanies his promise with a small, real smile, nudging Will's shoes with his own, and Will huffs. And he crosses his arms. And he looks to the side, to the mirror. Meets Nico's eyes, after a moment.

Nico holds his gaze.

"You mean it."

His voice is soft. He pitches it up, like a question, but it isn't: he can tell that Nico does, can hear it in his voice, see it in the set of his shoulders. But Nico gets up, anyway, shuffles the six inches forward and cups his face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks. Leans in close. Hovers.

"I mean it," he confirms, voice low, eyes lidded. "You look good, tesoro. We'll get it tailored." He flicks his gaze down. "But you look nice, cleaned up."

"I feel like a kid playing pretend," Will admits.

"As opposed to a kid playing doctor?"

"...Yes."

"Hm."

He sighs when Nico kisses him. More of an -- exhale, than anything. A short little thing, a punched out breath, relief, reassured.

"Don't get so far in your head," Nico says softly. He traces a line with the pad of his thumb, right under Will's eye. Will leans into his hand, blonde eyelashes fluttering shut. "I can't follow you, there."

He can feel Will quirk a smile, pressed against his lips, feel the pleased little hum he lets out at the familiar tease.

"Can't have that," Will murmurs, kissing him again, and again. "Can't go anywhere you can't meet me."

Hey! Can I make a fanfic request? Can will be really sick and Nico is now the one who has to help him get better and has no idea what to do and is freaking out. That would be gr8 thx

A/N: I really enjoyed this one! Sorry I’vebeen a bit MIA, but small requests like this are good for me! Send me requests whenever :)

Read on AO3 or FF.Net or Wattpad

“I’m fiiiiine.”

Will’s nasally voice rang out in theempty infirmary. It had been a heavy week of injured and sick campers, so ofcourse Will had worked himself to the point where he barely slept and didn’teat as well as he normally did. Thus, here Will was, attempting to continueworking in the infirmary as he slowly deteriorated.

“Will, goddammit you’re not fine.You’re sick and you need to leave and get better.” Nico was standing with hishands on his hips in front of the son of Apollo, who was trying to do somepaperwork that any healer could’ve been doing.

“Then who’s going to do all this?”Will said as he gestured at the papers spread before him.

“Literally ANYONE ELSE if you just letthem.” Unlike Will’s siblings, Nico had no problem pushing Will around,especially when it was for his own good (he claimed it always was, but Willdidn’t think so).

“But then who’s going to run theinfirmary? It’s a lot of work, you know, and I don’t want to burden someoneelse with that.” Will was always concerned about others and never put himselfbefore anyone. Which is why they were in the current situation.

Nico stood there, staring at Will. He’s such a good person and I can’t fuckingstand it, Nico thought.

An idea came to him. “Aside from thefact that, if you just assessed yourself, I knowyou’d know you’re sick, you’re probably putting others in this camp at risk bystaying here.”

Will tilted his head, notunderstanding how him doing his job was bad for others. His head was a bitcloudy with his not-sickness.

“I mean, if your just getting sick,”Nico continued, “then that means you’re contagious. And if your contagious,other people can catch whatever you have. Also, you’re putting your germs allover those papers, which other healers and Chiron touch. And if other healersget sick—“

“Yeah, yeah, okay, fine, I get it.”Will couldn’t deny what Nico was saying. He just wasn’t used to being the sickone that gets lectured. “Gods, I had no idea that’s how my health lecturesfeel. You should’ve told me I’m thatannoying.” Will began putting the papers away.

“I DO. Every single day.” Nico smiled,glad he had won over the stubborn medic.

“I should go tell Kayla to take overthe infirmary. And to lead the cabin to dinner if I’m not ready.” Will headedtowards the door, but Nico stopped him and spun him around.

“Nuh-uh, I’ll go tell her. You need torest, you’re looking worse and worse.” Nico looked genuinely concerned, whichin turn concerned Will. In truth, Will was avoiding assessing himself just sohe could be ignorant of how sick he was.

“Thanks, babe, that’s so sweet ofyou,” Will rolled his eyes.

“I’ve always been the more romanticone in our relationship. Now, go to my cabin. You won’t be bothered there. I’lltalk to Kayla and then come.” Nico lightly pushed Will in the direction of theHades cabin. Will didn’t fail to notice the light blush on his cheeks from thepet name.

“Okay, darling! As you wish!” Willshouted over his shoulder as he walked, making sure other people around heard.He glanced back to see Nico glaring at him with red cheeks. Will loved making hisboyfriend blush. He was also becoming slightly delirious, his head felt like itwas stuffed with cotton. Will sighed as he continued walking.

—

“Hey Kayla!” Nico called when he sawher leaving the Apollo cabin. “Can you take over the infirmary? I finally gotWill to leave.”

“Oh, thank the gods, Nico! I thoughtwe were going to have to drag him out half-conscious. Where is he now?”

“He’s going to my cabin. Do you knowwhat’s wrong with him?” Nico’s face was painted with worry, and it made Kaylalaugh.

“He’s not dying from some disease,Nico. He’s just sick. I think it started as a cold and is probably going todevelop into a fever. Hopefully not too bad, but he has been working a lot.Just make sure he rests and give him some medicine from the infirmary.” Kaylagave this simple advice as they walked towards said infirmary.

As straightforward as the advice was,Nico was still worried. What did he know about taking care of a sick person?Will rarely got sick, and this was the first time it happened since theystarted dating. What kind of medicine did he get? What if Will started, like,hallucinating or something? What if he sleeps for too long? Is he supposed toeat healthy foods only?

Kayla practically saw all of Nico’sconcerns run through his head. When he was thinking about his boyfriend, hisemotions were clear as day. She put a hand on Nico’s shoulder to stop him asthey reached the infirmary. “Nico, Will will be okay. Just be there for him anddo what he says. Will is still head medic, and knowing him, he wants to getbetter as soon as possible so he can come back and work.” Kayla sighed at this,knowing her brother needed to learn to take care of himself more.

Kayla went into the infirmary andgrabbed a bottle of medicine. “Here,” she said to Nico, pressing the bottleagainst his chest. “This is what Will needs. This, and you. Now go,” Kaylasmiled as she shooed Nico out the door. “Oh, and also, cuddles are a greatcure!” She shouted to Nico, whose cheeks once again turned red as he walkedtowards his cabin. These Apollo kids willbe the death of me, Nico thinks.

—

When Will woke up, he found Nicohovering over him, almost like he was making sure Will was still breathing. Hishair was messy, like was continually running his hands through it.

“Oh good, you’re alive. You slept forlike 5 hours, which I guess isn’t much, but I wasn’t expecting it and I wasstarting to worry.” Nico rambled a bit, clearly still worried even though Willwas very much alive.

“Nope, I’m still here.” Will stretchedand sat up, his body slightly achy. “Did you sleep?”

Nico immediately felt Will’s forehead,concerned that it was a little warm. “No, I’ve been trying to make sure you’re okay.And I got some medicine for you. And I have some water and food. Are youhungry? You probably are. You should probably eat, anyways. Are you cold? Areyou hot?” Nico was practically going through a list.

“Nico, Nico!” Will grabbed one ofNico’s hands to keep him from wringing them together. “I’m fine. Feel waybetter. Seriously, stop worrying!”

“No, you’re still sick. Kayla told meall these things to do to help you but you’ve been sleeping so obviously youhaven’t done all the things and you need to do all the things. Right?” Nico hadno idea what he was doing. Clearly.

Will chuckled, amused by hisboyfriend’s concern. “Yes, okay. Here, pass me the medicine and water. After Itake this, I’ll eat. Okay?” Nico’s shoulders visibly eased, to Will’s relief.He nodded, handing Will what he asked for.

As Will took his medicine, he smiledat the genuine care Nico exhibited. Maybe being sick wouldn’t be so bad afterall.

—

Later that night, Nico had left toreport to Kayla how Will was doing, and to make sure the infirmary was stillrunning properly, for Will’s sake.

When Nico returned to his cabin, he sawWill standing up and looking at the photos on his desk.

“Will! You’re supposed to be in bedresting.” Nico scowled at his boyfriend, who continued gazing at the pictures.

“This is one of my favorites,” Willstated, picking up a picture of the two of them near the lake. It was takenafter they were tossed in as per camp couple tradition.

Nico sighed, grabbing the picture awayso he could take Will’s hand in his own. “Yeah, mine too.” He looked uplovingly into his boyfriend’s face, alarmed to see his flushed cheeks andslightly glazed over eyes. Nico reached up to feel Will’s forehead, andfrowned.

“Your fever is getting worse. Webetter get you to bed.” Will barely protested as he was herded to one of thespare beds. He figured he deserved this considering how many times he did it toNico. Though, Will decided, he liked it when Nico played doctor. He felt safeand cared for.

“I could say the same to you,” Nicochuckled.

“Oh, did I say that out loud?” Willwas embarrassed, but was also too tired to care much.

Nico laughed again, shaking his head.“You’re adorable when you’re sick.”

“Adorable enough for you to comecuddle me?” Will asked innocently, putting on his puppy dog face. Nico alreadyknew he was done for. Kayla did say it would help anyway, right?

Rolling his eyes, he climbed into thebed next to Will. “Only until you fall asleep. Then I’m getting away from yourinfection.”

“Nicooooo I’m not that bad,” Willpouted.

“Just go to sleep, sunshine.” Niconestled right up to Will, closing his eyes and hoping Will did the same.

Will watched as Nico slowly fellasleep against him. He looked so peaceful, like a sleeping angel. Before Willknew it, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

"You comfortable?"

Nico lifts his head from the pillow, squinting groggily. Will giggles.

"You don't have to say anything. Just make a general noise of misery if you're actively suffering, and I'll try to fix it."

Nico understand maybe every other word. His head is swimming, his throat aches something awful, and the infirmary is busy; the bags under Will's eyes evidence of the once-monthly outbreak of Just Whatever. Consequence of close proximity to germy children in a small-ish space. Nico is going to quit his day job.

"None of that was words," says Will gently. He reaches out, slow enough for even Nico's affected reflexes to have time to pull away, and rest the back of his blissfully warm hand on his cheek. "You're rambling, darling. And slurring your words."

"H'te k'ds," Nico rasps. "Germy."

Will snorts. "Indeed they are."

"Evil."

"Aw, it's not their fault. They're plenty miserable about it, too. Anyways, you're warm, more than I'd like. Let's get your fever down."

Will pulls his hand away reaching for something beside the cot. Nico mourns its loss. The spattered burn scars that cover Will's hands are, oddly, an unbelievably calming texture -- as much as Will hates them, binding up his forearms to hide the worst of them, Nico loves nothing more than to run the tips of his fingers against them, to hold them to his lips. The map of his dotted, mottled skin sticks cleanly in his memory, as well as he knows the every bending poplar stalks of the Underworld, or the familiar shadows of his cabin. Will's touch had hardly a pulse of healing magic in it, although there is always some, and still the ache in Nico's throat is less, and the ringing in his ear fades to nothing. He twists until he is on his back, leaning against the headboard, and watches Will flutter, watches him easily fill a medicine cup without looking, guide a tired Austin around a heart monitor with his free hand, watches him sweep the noisy infirmary, checking and cataloguing on reflex.

He is handsome, when he works. Even when he is tired. There is something about the infirmary, for all its baggage, that relaxes his shoulders, that reminds him he is needed, he is capable, he is astounding.

Plus, the lighting does actual wonders for his hair. Just Nico's noticing.

"Drink this, please."

Nico takes the little cup, dipping his tongue in to make sure it's tolerable before downing the whole thing. He pretends to be too sick to notice Will's rolled eyes.

"Good boy."

Will's eyes twinkle. He responds to Nico's glare with an easy, crooked grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his flushed cheek before stepping away.

"Okay, go back to sleep. I gotta check on a list of people before Lou comes to switch out with me, so I'll be a while. I'll wake you up before I go, okay? Maybe you'll be well enough to go back to your cabin. I'll take you off saline as soon as its safe."

Nico hums in vague confirmation, watching him write all that down on Nico's chart. Whatever medicine he just took is already taking effect, and his head is heavy, unbalanced. He blinks and he is on the pillows, blankets up to his chin, eyes fighting to stay open.

"Sweet dreams, my love."

The last thing he registers is a slight, lingering pressure on the apple of his cheeks, and then he succumbs to the warmth of Will's touch.

“I’ll help you study.”

Will scoffs, only it’s muffled due to the pressing of his face right directly against the battered textbook.

“Ugh,” he groans, or maybe ‘urgh’ or ‘argh’ or just some general kind of growl. Nico is not sure exactly. The paper does a really excellent job of absorbing his misery.

Nico reaches out and very carefully wraps his finger around a curl, and then very carefully tugs Will upright, and out of the book, and then very carefully holds his gaze, and then very carefully, and also slowly, leans in. And smooches him very carefully on his cute little pout.

He goes quite a warm shade of red. Nico, not very carefully, smiles.

“Not helping,” Will complains, although he is fighting a smile also. “See, now I don’t want to study, I want to drive the DeLorean back sixteen years and crush baby me’s skull just a little so I remain illiterate for eternity.”

“You’re so goddamn weird,” Nico says fondly.

“Just a *little*,” Will grumbles. “It’s — ethical if it’s just a little.”

Nico resists the urge to kiss him again. It’ll be a whole thing, he reasons. One kiss will lead to another, and then a third, and then a nineteenth, and then they’ll re-emerge from the Hades cabin in a month to several search parties and Will’s weeping mother again, so best not to. It’s fine. Nico has self control. Nico has discipline.

Will does that thing where he makes his eyes dilate on command and bats his eyelashes just so. Knits his eyebrows so he is on the perfect right side of pathetically needy.

Nico’s discipline laughs all the way out of his body and down the express lane to hell. Rip in peace.

“I don’t even really need a future,” Will reasons. He leans forward hopefully. “You can just buy me a palace somewhere and I can eat grapes in bed forever while you read to me, right?”

Nico swallows. It takes a few tries. His discipline makes a brief reappearance to laugh again, and this time it brings his dignity — impressive, he hasn’t seen that in two years eight months fourteen days and half an hour, not that he has been counting or anything.

“If that’s what you want,” Nico rasps. He quickly tries to recall the various real estate listings Demeter had passive aggressively thrown at him while muttering about millennials these days. There was a palace somewhere in Serra San Bruno, he thinks?? Fuck. That would work. Right? They grow grapes there he is pretty sure.

“You are really very easy to seduce,” Will observes. Some of the exaggerated desolation in his tone has disappeared, replaced instead with the same character his voice gets when he is performing secret and largely immoral experiments on his patients via underhanded waiver he had Connor draft for him. He pokes once at Nico’s cheek. “Like, if I use any of the key sentences you just kind of fold.”

Nico doesn’t know how to respond to the second half of that sentence so he doesn’t. Also, Will smells good.

“Key sentences?”

The light has now fully returned to Will’s eyes. Mostly this is a good thing, except this is also the light Nico has seen reflected in Daedalus’s eyes so there is some concern there. Luckily for Will he’s pretty and Nico doesn’t have principles.

“Yeah! I have a list of phrases I use whenever I need you to do whatever I say.”

Nico ponders this for a moment. He waits for any feelings of disgust or betrayal. When none arise, he accepts the blatant curiosity.

“Really?”

“Mhm! The first one I learned was ‘feel my hands’.”

Nico is yanked roughly back to three years ago on a hill half-dead and heart pounding so loud Lou Ellen side-eyed him from a solid yard away.

“…Ah.” He coughs. “Uh, checks out.”

“I think the main thing is you’re kind of into it when you try to scare someone and they mouth you off instead,” Will continues. “Like, you enjoy snapping at me, but if I roll my eyes your hands get sweaty.”

Interestingly Nico’s hands are currently sweaty. He wonders if Will has any thoughts about the dreams he’s been having where he’s tied to an observation table and completely mute as Will prepares him for dissection. Probably not. Coincidence, as far as he’s concerned.

“I could just like you as a person,” Nico points out. “Maybe I don’t need all the mad psychiatrist shit to get all fluttery. Maybe I just put up with your manipulation because I love you.”

Will levels him with a look.

Nico shrugs.

“Alright,” he admits. “The freak shrink thing is kind of hot.”

Will looks very satisfied. This too must be a carefully planned Pavlov thing, because Nico’s body reacts immediately and viscerally.

“Good,” Will says, with relish. “All the studying I did of you when you first tolerated me was not for nothing, you know. I can track your hormone cycles by sight alone.”

Instead of whimpering, Nico says: “Speaking of studying.”

And Will groans and slumps back on top of his textbook. For extra drama, he keeps sliding until he slides right off the bed and hits the floor. Nico allows this for the drama of it all because if he doesn’t get it out of his system now he’ll start chanting MacBeth’s monologue at three in the morning again, and there are only so many times per months Nico can honestly sit through that.

“You do indeed need a doctorate to do unethical experiments in the name of science,” Nico says apologetically. “Or at the very least your Masters.”

Will makes a very long very deep groaning noise. Nico sighs and tells his body to cool it.

“I don’t *wanna*.”

“You do, really. You keep signing off on deliveries as ‘Dr. Solace’. Oh, yeah, Chiron says quit it, by the way. You’re causing tax fraud.”

“Good,” Will grumbles, into the floor. “Ugh.”

“Come on.” Nico slides on the floor next to him. Will holds out a valiant twelve seconds before sighing and tucking himself into Nico’s side. Nico hides a smile into his hair, gripping him tighter. “I test you, and make out with you for fifteen seconds every time you get one right?”

“…Twenty seconds.”

“Sixteen.”

“Seventeen and a half.”

Nico grins wider, and kisses his hair. He feels Will’s matching grin pressed to his ribs, mostly because it is swiftly accompanied by a bite. “Sold.”

"What was that for?"

He is warm, and soft, and he smells good.

And when Nico catches him by surprise, he touches the tips of his fingers to the swell of his lips, eyes wide, freckles blinking like stars.

Nico hides a smile, rocking back on his heels.

"No reason."

"Not that I am complaining," Will hastens to explain, "uh, I loved it, actually, I just -- I am kind of gross? I was gonna go run to take a shower before I woke you and --"

Nico leans over and kisses him again. From this angle he can -- the sand pit for volleyball is just slightly lower than the bleachers, and if Nico stands on the second step, he can just...lean over. Will's lips are right there, even if it is more a press of mouths than a kiss with Will's rambling.

It stops, though, when Nico kisses him. He clams up and kisses back like he's afraid Nico is going to stop.

"Was that one just 'cause, too?" he says, when Nico lets up. Nico pulls away and notices that he is breathless. That could be the game he just played.

It could also be the little tinge of red around his cheekbones -- barely, really, anything -- and the way he darts his eyes between Nico's mouth and his eyes. Experimentally, Nico leans slightly forward. Immediately, Will closes his mouth, then his eyes, waiting.

Nico waits, too, grinning. When Will cracks one confused eye open he cannot help but laugh, and Will shoves him, scowling.

"You're teasing me," he accuses.

Nico quiets his mirth in his hands.

"A little."

"You're mean."

"Mhm. A little."

He leans forward, again, past the threshold of middle ground between them. This time Will waits, evaluating, pout on his bitten-red lips. He narrows his Carolina-blue eyes and Nico takes the time to watch them, to memorize them. He thinks of brilliant butterfly wings and fire. He thinks of afternoon skies. He thinks of shallow, splashing lakes, of robin eggs and icebergs. Of scorpions and scales and flower petals. He thinks long enough for Will to believe him, again, to fall for it; he thinks he could get away with making him wait, again, but finds he doesn't want to.

"You taste like strawberry," Will mumbles, and presses himself closer, "the candy kind."

Nico smiles against his mouth. A bribe, of sorts. Will's tongue licks along the seem of his lips, determined to taste more. Nico allows it and slides his hands up his belly in his distraction, resting on his chest. He swears he can feel when his skin gives way to dark ink, long-healed as it is. There is less of a buzz.

Will pulls away, slightly, although there isn't much to go.

"I'm supposed to -- get ready."

"Mhm." Nico kisses him again. He resists, or he tries to. Nico hovers, for a moment, candy breath and all, and he cracks in second. "What was it you had to do, again?"

"I --" Nico swipes his thumb along the line of his ribs, featherlight, and he twitches, trembles; "I --"

He is so easy. It is like he has buttons red and tantalizing for Nico to press, and his impulse control has never been good. Nico memorized them ages ago, and uses them at his leisure; Twizzlers, before a game, dipping his hands in ice water so they're cooler than usual. A fingernail against his ribcage, a flat palm on the heart of his tattoo. A little bit of height, and the promise of a kiss, of the end of one.

Like a detonator.

"Don't stop," Will sighs, forgetting. Nico can almost see the list of responsibilities float from his brain, wrapping around Nico's head like laurels. He curls his fists to avoid the crow of victory bubbling in his throat, wrapping his hands in strands of Will's hair -- another button.

He tugs.

Will whimpers.

Easy.

"Won't," Nico promises, and kisses him again.

"It's two sugars, right? And approximately eighty percent cream by volume?"

"I love you," says Will seriously.

Nico snorts. "You love caffeine. If you loved me, you would be looking at me when you said that, not the cup."

"Hm? Are you talking? Me and my caffeine are trying to have a conversation, thanks. Come back later."

Nico laughs, big and raspy, and Will grins the kind of grin that squishes his round face. He sets the cup down and slides his hands down Nico's arms, circling his wrists; the kiss is clumsy and ridiculous because neither of them can stop giggling long enough to press their lips together properly.

"I can, like, see sound," Will mumbles. "Shit is wild. Complaining is purple."

"You know, you can quit."

"Can't."

"Revolt?"

"Tried. Got dragged back."

"Hm. Well, you know what Cecil says."

"I'm not throwing a Molotov cocktail in my own infirmary, and you can't either, before you say that."

Nico sighs, kissing one last kiss to the corner of Will's mouth before pulling away. "I could make it look like the cleanest of accidents."

"I'm sure."

"And then you could come spend time with me." He takes his special, nametagged place in the good spinny chair, with the perfect ass indent and comfy cracked leather. "I'll take you wherever you want. You wanna go to Florence? We can go to Florence."

"I'd love that, actually."

"Okay! I'll pack you a bag. You wait by the door, I'll distract them with a Mol--" Nico hastens to correct at Will's Look™️. "With a very small and almost inconsequential stick of dynamite I will give to Harley."

"Better."

"Okay! Be ready in ten."

He gets a Look again, but it is much softer this time, blue eyes dark with regret.

"Nico."

Nico scowls. "I know."

"It's only because Dad's gone silent."

"Ugh. I know. Can't your father choose a less inconvenient time to get smited, or whatever happened to him."

"I'm pretty sure he's alive. I mean, the sun is still kicking, and I still get occasional dream concerts."

"Pretty sure that's PTSD."

"It's possible."

"I just want to kiss my boyfriend in peace," Nico grumps, falling back in his chair so hard he damn near goes sprawling. He yanks himself up, pink-cheeked, and pretends not to notice the laughter Will hides in his hands, lest he file for divorce. "Stupid godly drama."

"A-fuckin'-men to that."

Will powerwalks past the nursing station, pressing a kiss to his fingers and his fingers to Nico's forehead. Nico resists the urge to grab his hand and pull him backwards, into the V of his legs, into the circle of his arms; instead he watches, chin in his wrist, as Will flutters from cot to cot, smiling gently at the younger kids, rolling his eyes at the older teens. He works as if he has four arms, pouring medicine and humming passing hymns, looping heart monitors in place and encouraging his siblings every time he walks by. For someone who has had to spend a not-insignificant portion of his time in this place since the other Apollo kids lost their vitakinesis, he seems remarkably comfortable. Nico wonders how much of that is learned habit.

"Hey."

Will hums in acknowledgement, sweeping his glowing hands over a kid's broken leg.

"What do you want to eat."

"You just brought me coffee."

"That's a drink, for one. For two, that was four hours ago."

Will blinks. There is still gold ringed around his irises, and his scars and freckles twinkle like stars.

"It has?"

"Mhm."

"Oh -- woah." He stumbles a little, when he stands, steadying himself on the counter until Nico can slip an arm around his waist. "I think I'm maybe, um, done for the day."

"Good," Nico murmurs, glaring at the two campers who open their mouths to complain. "Anyone else can just heal the mortal way for a bit. You need to rest."

Will nods, and Nico guides him out, holding the screen door and taking it slow down the porch steps. Will is warm, more than just the burn from his hands and his throat, and when Nico glances out of the corners of his eyes his cheeks are red and eyes downcast.

"Nobody's watching," Nico promises quietly. "Even if there were, you're just tired."

"I'm limping like a ninety year old man."

"The socks and sandals really sell that look, yeah."

"Shut up."

Nico presses a grinning kiss to his cheek. "No. Come on, Grampa. I'm gonna get you set up in bed and then I'm going to steal, like, twelve sandwiches from the dining hall."

"Barbeque sandwiches?" Will asks hopefully. "Your bed?"

"You're going to get what I give you," Nico snarks, mapping a route to the nearest BBQ place in his head. There's that one on Park and 30th that's open late. "And -- uh, yeah. My bed. If you want."

He is normal about that and Will snickers for no reason, or perhaps because he is dumb in the brain. Por que no los dos. Both.

They make it finally to the black marble steps of Cabin Thirteen, and Will pulls away before Nico can decide whether or not it's worth it to shadow-travel them both inside. He twists and rests both hands on Nico's cheek, cooled down to pleasantly warm, now, and leans in slow until their lips are just nanometers apart, a hairsbreadth of distance between them.

"Thank you," he whispers, near silent in the fading evening.

Nico can only nod.

Will breathes with him for a moment, eyes closed and breath warm. When he opens again the gold is fully gone, and the blue is dark like dusk, almost purpleish.

"I love you," he murmurs. He straightens up and presses one last chaste kiss to Nico's forehead. "Thank you for looking out for me. I'll see you when I wake up."

He climbs carefully up to the cabin, slipping through the heavy doors without tripping over anything, for once. A blessing, maybe, from a clouded father, or from grateful Fates. Nico stares at the door until the sun sinks below the ground and the heat fades from his cheeks, and then he smiles.

He sinks into the shadows in search for twelve sandwiches, and a coke for good measure.

“You know I love you.”

Will grins, and it is wide, and it is shameless. Nico should be wary, probably. He is only warm.

“I know you like me,” Will says, indulgently. He leans over the bed, hair flopping into Nico’s eyes; were Nico more than half awake he’d shove him away, huffing, but as it is he doesn’t even consider the option. Instead he drags his hand up, trailing over Will’s bare arm, his shoulder. Palm smoothing over his cheek. Fingers gliding through his curls, brushing back his hair. Will’s grin falters, ever slightly, to something small, something soft.

“I do,” Nico admits.

“Well,” Will says, flusters. But he recovers, and grins again. “Well, prove it.”

He is teasing and Nico knows he is — shameless, fishing for compliments. What he wants is: a kiss. What he wants is: you know I love you, you little shit. What he especially wants is: yes, you dork ass, I love you enough to wake up and go on this run with you.

Nico opens his mouth for any of the implied. But instead, what his lips do, is bypass the instructions his conscious brain gives them, weakly tired as it is. Instead the wider, darker, hidden part of him, that rules his dreams, steps smoothly in. And he says:

“If you would only let me, there would be no doubt left for even the dead.”

What’s more damning than the words themselves is the way in which Nico says them. While his lips, traitors as they are, have loosened with sleep, his throat at least was wise enough to try to hold the truth back, to rasp his voice. Only the attempt makes things — worse. Only now Nico’s voice is raw and aching, and his palms are warmed, still, from where they pressed to Will’s chest, his stomach, all night, and his eyes are thick with morning tiredness, but awake enough still to watch the shock spread across Will’s face. Watch his full, pretty lips part, watch black spread over dawn blue, watch — feel — blood warmth bloom under scar-and-stubble rough cheeks.

“I —” Will says, and stops. His mouth opens, and closes. The flushed red grows deeper. “I —”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” Nico says, quietly, because he’s in deep enough now, isn’t he. The blinds are open and nosy sunlight spills in and he itches to close them, to throw off the twisted blankets and yank the heavy curtains closed, but he holds himself, keeps his cupped palms loose. Exhales. “You know that, right.”

It is a punctuation more than confirmation — you know that. Right. You know that is right. You, know that is right. Remember. Remember.

Curled next to his ribs in the sheets, Will’s fingers shake.

“I — I know,” he stumbles, and he’s bright red, now, voice cracking — “gods, Neeks, of course I know, I —”

“Anything you want,” Nico continues, quiet still. Will cuts himself off and swallows. “I have everything you need, already, but —” Nico exhales, now, and his breath shakes too, but his voice is firm, his eyes head-on to Will’s. “Zeus once offered Hera everything,” he says. Will’s inhale is sharp and pointed. “He couldn’t give it to her, in the end.”

“Please don’t get smitten,” Will begs, glancing worriedly out the open window.

But Nico smiles only. “Too late.”

“You — corndog.”

It had not been his goal to fluster his significant annoyance so early in the morning but it is a good stopping point, anyway, because Will’s heart is hammering so quickly Nico can hear it from down on the pillows, and his own eyes have gotten heavy again. It’s early, still. Nico would do anything for Will but a five-in-the-morning run is not quite on the table.

(Thankfully, at least, Will hasn’t outright asked.)

(…Nico would rather not stoop low enough to grab it off the floor.)

(But it would not be the first time.)

“Not corny,” Nico corrects, smiling. He swipes a thumb over Will’s freckled cheekbone and smiles wider when this makes him warmer. “Not if I mean it.”

“Well! You — well.”

Some poet, Nico thinks, teasing, rendered speechless by a promise.

But he keeps it to himself. Because he knows Will, and how things cripple him. How he is laughing and brazen but how he startles at tiny little touches, at Nico’s linking their pinkies together. How he stares at the smallness of it. The easy way it can be memorized, in its entirety. Relived, again and again.

“I love you,” he repeats.

Will ducks his head down.

“I know,” he mumbles.

Nico’s eyes crinkle and he allows the Han Solo-ing. He worries Will might burst into sunbeams again, otherwise, like the last time Nico held him, kissed down his throat and hovered his teeth on either side of his trachea, scraping the whispering promise of it. Everything. All of it.

“Go for your run,” Nico murmurs. He pushes up and brushes his lips against the corner of Will’s mouth, deliberately avoiding where his breaths come in quick. Squaring instead the tiny scar then, from when he broke a guitar string as a toddler and it snapped back into his face. Nico lingers there until it is not a kiss, anymore, but the press of his curved smile to warmed skin. “I’ll be here.”

“I — know.” Will says again. He pulls away and is redder. He fidgets. “I. Love you too. You know.” He darts out the open door, glowing. “Bye.”

Nico watches it slide close behind him, grinning.

“Little shit,” he murmurs to himself. And shakes his head.

"Call me when you get home."

Will smiles. "You could come too, you know."

Nico scoffs, reaching for his twisted collar. He fixes it as Will snickers, quickly moving on to the rest of his badly wrinkled shirt. Where did he keep this. His pillowcase?

"I'm -- busy."

"Yeah, workin' on that excuse."

Nico's face burns and he refuses to dignify that with an answer.

"Shut up."

"Mhm." Will wraps his fingers around Nico's wrist, shifting his hand off his shirt and sliding their fingers together. Nico stares at them, the contrast -- Will's scarred, freckled tan against Nico's pale calluses. He closes his eyes and tries to freeze the picture, hold onto it, but it fades quicker than sunset. "I'm only gone for a week, babe."

"That is a stupid amount of hours."

"Hundred sixty-eight, yeah."

"What if you get -- attacked?"

Will pulls their joined hands to rest on his chest, using his free hand to place theatrically on his forehead due to who he is as a person.

"The depth of my love shall save me," he says, dramatically. "You will hear my plea for help from thousand miles away, O Saver Of Damsels."

Nico scowls. "You're irritating."

"And you make the choice to date me every day, so who is the real dumbass here."

"You, still."

"Fascinating logic as usual."

A smile cracks on his face and Will pumps his fist like the dork he is, crowing his victory to the heavens. Nico wants to punch him as much as kiss him, and then abruptly realizes he can do nothing about that feeling for the next several days.

"Hey." A gentle thumb brushes against his bottom lip, tilting his head up. Will's smile has softened. "You know you can, like...teleport, right? That is a thing you can do? If you're worried you can just stalk me from a distance. Lurk, as you do."

Nico could lurk. It's true. And then he would not have to face Will's mother and have to potentially flay himself as soon as he inevitably fumbles every interaction and their entire relationship goes up in smoke.

"You could also just come with me normally. Like, you know, as my boyfriend meeting my mother. Who is normal. And kind of an awkward person herself. You should see her interviews. She'll put her foot in her mouth four times faster than you will, I can promise you that."

"Your mother is lovely," Nico stresses, which he knows objectively. Many are.

"As are you," Will responds easily. He bends down to distract Nico with a gentle press of their lips. Nico is indeed distracted. He is soft and smells like lavender. Nico has weaknesses and urges and they are all stamped with WAS.

"Hngh."

Nico emphasizes his point by flapping his free hand emphatically. Will accepts his point by Sighing.

"Sigh," he adds, out loud. "One day. Next time. Soon."

"Sure," Nico lies.

"Sigh," Will says again. His grin is wide and soft around the edges, even as he rolls his eyes; he leans down and kisses him again and lingers, this time. Waits for Nico to sag into his hold and close his eyes, wanting.

"Okay," Nico mumbles, refusing to pull away. "Okay, you gotta catch a train."

"Yep."

"It leaves in one hour."