Archive of Our Own

Nico knows he shouldn’t be here.

The people around him know he shouldn’t be here.

But he is.

All because of Will.

He bumps past a few teenagers, some drunk and others too busy making out to care. He stares down warily at the untouched plastic cup in his hand, knowing the substance inside will group him with the drunkards in the room.

Needless to say, he disposes it immediately.

He doesn’t know where to go—there aren’t exactly maps hung around the rooms, indicating ‘YOU ARE HERE!’, so to say he’s confused is an understatement.

“Nico!” A voice pulls him back down to Earth and he turns abruptly, not wanting to be caught off guard in the unfamiliar place.

But he relaxes when he identifies the girl as Lou Ellen, her smile reaching her eyes as she greets him. He smiles pathetically, pocketing his hands so they don’t begin grasping at air as he speaks.

“I’m lost.” He mumbles shortly, slouching his shoulders in. Her eyes twinkle with amusement as she takes his hand, pulling him past the couples making out and up the stairs.

“Everyone’s waiting for you to start the game.” She gives him a pointed look and he pauses, surprised by this news.

“Game?” He echoes, as if hearing the word for the first time. She bustles ahead and drags him with her, determined to find the correct room in the maze of hallways.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun.” She beams, walking towards one of the many slightly ajar doors. She opens it further and guides him in, the loud chatter suddenly hitting his sensitive ears.

She continues to blab and guide him across the room, leading him to her friend group. His eyes fall onto a familiar person in the room, and they stare back, eyebrows raised.

What are you doing here? She asks him through her eyes. He shrugs again, because honestly he doesn’t know why he’s there. This is so totally unlike him in every way, and no matter how hard he tries to remember, he can’t think of why he agreed to coming with Will.

Bianca dismisses him easily and goes back to chatting up the boy next to her, encaptured by his tale. Nico turns to stare ahead, watching as Lacey chats enthusiastically with Will who stares at the books on the shelf as if he’s about to get quizzed on each and every one.

“Will! Nico’s here.” Lou shouts over the chatter and the other boy turns instantly, eyes brightening as he races to Nico’s side, as if Nico has all the answers to the quiz.

“Nico! Glad you made it!” Will shouts over the crowd like Lou had, his face dangerously close to Nico’s. Nico isn’t much of a screamer, so he just swallows and nods.

“Everyone’s here, great!” They all quiet down as a preppy looking girl announces their game of ‘7 minutes in heaven’. She explains and a few murmur suggestively, making Nico’s stomach turn.

“Lacey told me the game’s rigged.” Will whispers, his lips so close to Nico’s ear it makes him shiver. His heart kickstarts in his chest, uneasy rolling around in his empty stomach.

Lacey rigged the game? The thought leaves him sick, the sudden urge to leave growing inside him, because he knows exactly how Lacey feels. He turns to Will, about to suggest his plan of sneaking out, when he sees it. Will’s beaming, his entire body is glowing and Nico realizes he can’t ask Will to ditch with him, because Will’s been waiting for this. He wants to sit in a closet with Lacey and probably do unspeakable things.

He’s going to be sick for sure. Though Nico drank none of the beer, he imagines this is his punishment for being intoxicated. It’s so bad he begins to trip towards the door, mumbling quiet ‘excuse me’s’ to everyone he elbows.

“Nico! Wait, where are you going?” Will grabs his arm and stops him in his tracks. His healing touch sends strength into Nico once more, and he stands, breathing heavily.

“I—I gotta—”

“Will!”

They freeze in their moment, once intimate now awkward, slowly pulling away from each other’s touch. Their eyes lock and Will hesitates in obvious confusion as he walks towards the closet. Nico peers over Will to see his own sister Bianca standing there, a lost expression on her face as she stares back at Nico.

Bianca?

They shuffle into the enclosed space, the door shutting dramatically behind them, and Nico feels himself slowly sinking into the ground. He wobbles in place as the egg timer begins to tick, counting down from seven. The word sick can’t even begin to describe Nico’s current emotions, and the look of anguish on Lacey’s face tells him she hadn’t planned this either.

Fate, perhaps?

He wants to run over and slam the door open, separate the two and scream at them to stop. He wants to run over and smash the egg timer to a billion pieces, preferably bounce it off Bianca’s stupid head a few times.

But he doesn’t. He stands in place and watches with the rest of them, listening for any sounds. Others are listening for moans probably, maybe a shoe scrape here or there. But all he’s listening for is heartbeats. He begs every god he knows that Will and Bianca’s hearts don’t beat in sync.

He had thought his heart beat in sync with Bianca. He had thought his heart beat in sync with Will. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe his heart didn’t beat with anyones.

The thought sends him over the edge and he runs, runs, runs out the door, knowing in his heart that it’s over. They’ve realized and now he’s alone.

He pulls at his hair the moment he’s out the door, biting his lip as hard as he can to keep the tears at bay. He had been dreading this moment for a while, and now there was no way of stopping it.

Damn.

He crouches down, breathing slowly into his knees, not wanting to look up and see Will and Bianca holding hands, happy together.

Breathing heavily he pulls a piece of chalk out of his pants pocket, gliding his thumb over it in a soothing motion. He calms down enough to sketch on the asphalt, words left unspoken revealed by the drawing.

He doesn’t know how long he’s there before he hears Will’s shout. He pretends not to notice, finishing his picture after what he is sure has been one trillion years. Will shouts his name this time, his voice closer and his panting filling Nico’s ears, leaving him unnerved once more.

“Have you been here all this time?” Will huffs out, hunched over in obvious exhaustion. The smell of Will mixed with his sweat leaves Nico tingly. “I’ve been looking for you this entire time, what....what the heck?” Nico doesn’t have to look up to see Will staring at his art, wondering what it is. Nico doesn’t honestly know himself until Will asks, and words tumble from his mouth.

“It’s the ocean swallowing the sun.” He answers simply, yet the grief in his voice is detectable. Will pauses, the symbolism obvious in the work. Anger courses through his veins when he sees the hurt in Will’s blue irises, the same blue as the ocean.

“Nico, about me and Bianca...” The minute he starts Nico jumps up, not wanting to have this conversation, especially not with Will. Anybody but Will. Anybody.

“Wait—”

“No, I’m fine with leaving actually.” He replies hurriedly, wanting to get out of sight before the dam in his chest breaks. Will’s eyes are desperate as they comb over Nico’s body—hungry even—and Nico can’t take it anymore. He grinds his teeth to keep the sob locked in his throat, and turns away, ready to bolt when he feels a cool hand grip his wrist.

“Wait.” The word is so sad to Nico he does as it asks, and stays, planted in the spot. Will gently turns him around, blue eyes searching his, looking for something that just isn’t there.

Finally he can’t take it anymore. The words come out in slow motion, thick, ridden with fear.

“Did you kiss her?”

No one replies. By the way Will sinks slightly into himself, Nico can see the truth. Yes. I kissed her. The truth has always taunted him, has always tortured his poor soul.

He swallows the growing lump in his throat, whispering “I see” in a watery tone he hadn’t intended.

“Nico I—” Will’s voice dies out as he stares helplessly at the younger boy, begging for Nico to save him, but what right does he have asking for that?

“I don’t like Bianca that way, it was just a stupid game. I should have never played.” His blond eyebrows pull together in anger and he kicks a strayed pebble. Nico envisions himself as the poor pebble.

“I don’t know what happened. We just sat there for a while, but then she was talking about you and I just—I imagined she was you and then I started kissing her and thinking about you and god I’m awful.” Will buries his face in his hands, shoulders hunched in regret. Nico blinks, not sure what he’s supposed to do.

“I didn’t mean to kiss her I swear. I don’t...I don’t like Bianca like that, Nico. She knows I don’t, but I just wanted to make sure you did too.” Will’s voice is deep and quiet as he speaks, and for a minute Nico can’t identify the guy in front of him. He’s so un-Will like it hurts.

“So you kissed Bianca because she reminded you of...me?” He tries to piece together what the broken boy is saying, but it’s hard. Mostly because he’s a little chipped, too.

“Y-Yes.” Will sputters, cheeks hot. He bounces his attention between Nico and the cement, unable to stare for too long.

“So if I had been called in there with you you would have...?” The question dies on Nico’s bashful tongue, but he’s able to convey the meaning behind his words. Will gives him a half smile, rolling his eyes.

“Oh god Nico, of course I would have. I wouldn’t have stopped after just seven minutes, either.” His grin is devilish and Nico is appalled — in a good way, somehow — by his suggestive tone. He retreats into himself like a turtle, only poking out long enough to ask another regrettable question.

“When would you stop?” His words are jittery as they leave his mouth, and he shuts his mouth a second too late. Will steps distinctly closer, so close his breath is brushing across Nico’s eyelashes.

“When you ask, of course.” He answers, his voice losing it’s flirtatious edge, replaced by seriousness. His attention falls to Nico’s hand which he reaches for, tangling and untangling their hands respectively.

“God Nico, you drive me crazy.” He tsks, as if he’s blaming Nico for a huge dilemma, but Nico doesn’t feel offended. If anything, he’s drunk on Will and the way his index finger dances around his palm, as if leaving soft little kisses across it.

“No matter how many times you ask me to stop I won’t.” He replies, the first thing he’s said in determination for over a week. Will pauses his kissing fingers, eyebrows raised in obvious glee.

He opens his mouth to say something but stops, instead drawing closer, their chests mere inches away. Will cuffs his ear and smiles wistfully, the sadness replaced inside him. Nico doesn’t dare a single breath, completely drunk with the ideal of Will. His hand shifts so it’s cupping Nico’s cheek, and Nico completely gives in, leaning in slightly. Will can’t close the distance fast enough, and so Nico abruptly leans closer, smashing into Will instantly. He makes an embarrassed sound muffled by Will’s lips while Will laughs heartily, his hand leaving Nico’s face and wrapping around to run through Nico’s hair. They stay like this much longer than Nico can breath, but he doesn’t mind suffocating if it’s like this.

When Will does pull away, he’s breathing heavy and looking absolutely ecstatic. The way his body rises and falls with each breath and the way his half lidded eyes are staring at Nico make it harder for the boy to pay attention, but he tries.

“I’m so sorry about Bianca, really—”

“Was that better?”

“Better?” Nico breaks Will’s train of thought and leaves him shipwrecked and confused. Nico looks down and bites on his lip (unknowingly seductive) and the answer shoots Will in the gut.

“Oh.” He wheezes, as if it really had shot him. He gazes at Nico for a long moment before slowly nodding his head, as if he has finally made up his mind.

“Yeah, hell yeah it was. Better than I could imagine, better than—”

“Okay thanks, that’s all I wanted to hear.” He teases Will and shuts him up with a kiss, knowing if he hears any more his face will explode into flames. Nico discovers that Will is easy to distract with the touch of his lips, and makes a note of it in the back of his mind, just in case.

Then Will pulls him into his chest and holds him, the sound of their beating hearts blocking out the party.