Archive of Our Own

Rule number one is that you gotta have fun

-

“I don’t understand,” Jason said, swirling his straw in his milkshake without looking.

“What’s so hard to understand about he isn’t my boyfriend?”

Normally hanging at the diner with Jason was a good time, especially in the first AM hours, when the only other presence beside theirs consisted of a few lonely figures keeping quiet in suspicious corners, and it felt like they had the whole empty place to themselves. Right now, though, Nico was seriously considering lighting out and going home on the spot.

Even Jason looked bothered –which was bold of him, if you asked Nico, considering it was all his fault. All he did was mention that his cat Delilah really liked Will, and suddenly Jason was digressing about dating or whatever absurd assumptions.

“I don’t know, it’s just- I mean, the way you talk about him…” he trailed off into a suggestive gaze. Nico didn’t grasp the suggestion.

“What about it?” he dared him.

Part of him was also genuinely curious, though. He didn’t think he talked about Will in any particular way. He talked about him the same way he talked about everyone else– spontaneously, as the thoughts came to his lips.

What especially pickled his nerves was that Jason had possibly noticed something he hadn’t –the guy could be, in fact, either painfully insightful or tragically oblivious, so randomly that it was quite frankly amazing to watch; but so if Jason really wasn’t being delusional right now, that meant Nico had missed something big.

For half a moment Jason looked hesitant. Then in one breath, as if ripping off a band-aid, “Feels like he’s more than just someone you have casual sex with.”

And there it was, the irked eye roll. “Terribly sorry if the way I lead my own life isn’t romantic enough to satisfy your personal lovey-dovey dreams.”

“I wasn’t–”

“We can’t all be Care Bears, okay? If you wanna find true love I suggest you go hang out with Hazel and Frank,” he finished dryly.

The look in Jason’s eyes was not so much hurt, but disappointed. Nico’s conscience didn’t fail to inform him which was worse. “You know I’m not like that, Neeks. You know I wouldn’t try to force anything on you.” He glanced aside as if embarrassed. “It– it just honestly seemed to me like there was something between you two.”

Nico tapped away at his own glass. “I know. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured him, but then a small smile was sliding on his mouth– Nico knew that smile, it was a Jason smirk, and he was about to get betrayed– “But see, even the way you got all defensive… I know I’m no Annabeth when it comes to reading people, but I know you pretty well, come on,” he concluded with some kind of glint in his eyes.

Pretty well was an understatement, they both knew it, and that was precisely the problem: Jason’s argument wasn’t ungrounded. But really, all that did was irritate Nico even more. Not because he might be right, mind you, but precisely because he was so definitely, positively, decidedly wrong. Delusional, for sure.

“Stop extrapolating,” he sighed. “Just because I willingly ventured some basic information about him doesn't make him my boyfriend.”

“Except conquering Delilah’s love is hardly basic information.”

Delilah was known for loving no one more than herself. Truthfully, it did make Nico a bit jealous how cuddly she acted around Will.

“Okay,” he said provokingly. “But I'm not my cat, and I’m telling you there are no romantic feelings involved, so that’s on period, line break, new paragraph.” Then he realized, with an embarrassed flush, that he was talking loud, and his hands had been moving all over. He gathered them back sheepishly.

Jason only raised skeptical eyebrows, and his eyes returned to his drink, in which the straw was still spiraling steadily. Again, the itching dissatisfaction of having to watch his glasses sit skew on his nose. Some repetitive song was sizzling from low-quality speakers, floating around them in the otherwise lethargic silence. And Nico was biting his cheeks.

It was in weird moments like these that Jason reminded him of Bianca. The same detached attitude, like they were hiding secrets from him but acting too casual about it.

“You know what?” he blurted, exasperated. “That one time I let him stay for dinner and even he was like, we aren’t together, right, and I said no, and he… well, we agreed on it.”

Jason looked up, his swirling coming to a halt. “You invite him to stay over for dinner?”

“Yeah, it’s more polite.”

“I- I don’t think you understand the concept of an eff-buddy.”

“You’re twenty-three, Jason, you’re allowed to say fuck.”

Jason waved him off, which was fair. “Of a sex friend,” he rephrased.

Nico felt his eyebrow twitch. “It has friend in it.”

“Boyfriend also has friend in it. Just saying,” he only shrugged when Nico glared at him, and he went back to sipping on his strawberry milkshake, which suddenly seemed much more appetizing than Nico’s ridiculous, sloppy chocolate drink.

Strange. Fifteen minutes ago ordering that had seemed to him like the brightest idea he’d had all day. When did it become so… stupid?

He shook his head. “Whatever. Point is, there’s something missing here why this can’t be called dating. It isn’t like he makes me feel particularly good about myself, or like I really care about him, or like I wanna… or anything. Hell, we don’t even kiss. Most times. Um, I don’t think he– he’d wanna…” A lump had burgeoned in his throat for some reason. He cleared it. “We just sleep together sometimes, and we hold a decent conversation– sex, friends. Sex friends.”

By the time he was finished speaking Jason was staring at him like he’d just demonstrated that one and one was three. Absolutely delusional. “I don’t understand,” he repeated.

Nico gave up, leaning to rest his cheek on his hand. “Why does this not surprise me coming from the guy who didn’t understand Toy Story Two.”

“Look, I’ve thought long and hard about it, and it makes no sense. Woody spends the entire first movie trying to kill Buzz, and suddenly in the sequel they’re best friends. That’s not credible.”

“Um, I think you missed something crucial there. Can I have some of your milkshake?”

Rule number two

-

It was one of those gray days where time was ambiguous and the limit between his body and his surroundings an unclear coast. The worst thing that could happen, Nico presumed, was nothing.

Sitting still on the brink of his couch, he’d been waiting for the grayness to darken enough so he’d have a good reason to turn a light on, for some time now. A strange urge to sit on the floor was pulling at him, but he would not give in, because he knew that was some sort of pathetic indulgence tempting him.

So instead he waited, still and quiet, in the heavy, quiet air, and watched as Delilah lolled around in the middle of the living room, displaying herself like the centerpiece in a museum in conformity with the complacent mind she was.

“If you’re waiting for the sun you’re waiting in vain, baby KitKat,” Nico finally informed her.

The original nickname was baby kitty cat, but overtime the sounds had morphed into baby KitKat. At least he wasn’t calling her royalty titles like Will did.

But Delilah didn’t care about being called anything, nor about the should-have-been devastating news Nico had just dispensed. She only narrowed her eyes at him, slowly, and opened them again.

It made Nico smile internally. When he got her he told himself he wouldn’t go soft for her like those crazy cat ladies whose lives revolved around balls of fur gone tyrannical, but that promise was getting harder to honor with every time she looked at him with those lazy eyes.

“Yeah, I’m having a bad day, too.” And after some consideration, “Wanna cuddle?”

So maybe he was exclusively the one who wanted to cuddle, and maybe right now whether Delilah would allow him to pet her would determine if he’d cry or not. She wouldn’t shy away from letting him know her discontent, as durably testified to by a couple of thin pale streaks on his hands. That was alright with him, though. She got moody sometimes, so what? Okay, he’d gone so soft for her.

Because the times where she would curl up and go to sleep beside him –those moments made him smile no matter anything else.

“Do nothing if you wanna cuddle.”

Some would assert that this was trickery but Nico would counterargue that fuck you.

And Delilah, sweet Delilah –not one of her whiskers so much as twitched.

Nico smiled, real and tangible this time, and it tugged at his muscles, bitterly reminding him of how still his face had been all day. Drowning the thought, he went to lie down next to her, and began caressing her back, as smoothly and softly as he could. And then she was purring, deep vibrations tickling his fingers, and Nico knew that if the longevity of his smile had been uncertain until then, there was no way it was coming off now. (It still felt somewhat unpleasant, though maybe not physically.)

“Delilah,” he sing-sang, running his fingers over her fur. “I love you,” and dragged out the last vowel.

And to think that he’d thought sitting on the floor would be pathetic. Gaze upon his glory now, lying in the middle of the living room petting and blabbering sweet nothings to his cat like some lovesick man gone soft in the head.

He sighed, and the dark ceiling met his gaze as he rolled back onto his back. He wished to feel nothing, rather than the absence of something. Maybe now would be the time to turn a lamp on.

Instead, with slightly clumsy hands, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, held it over his head, half expecting it to fall on his face as he went on a tour of his contacts.

The list was not impressive to begin with. Nico’s hopes grew even slimmer when all possible candidates to call and hang out with were getting successively ruled out for being too something. Annabeth– too reasonable. Hazel– too worrisome. Percy– too nosy.

His finger stopped. Superman.

Jason was… well, Jason was the logical choice.

Jason would be understanding without being intruding or awkward. He’d be comfortable to talk, maybe even goof around with, depending on the direction the conversation would take. But still, Nico didn’t feel right calling him. He liked being with Jason when he was feeling good– but now it would only feel mechanical, something someone else would expect him to do.

Lips pinched, he resumed his scrolling, saving the option as a last-ditch resort, which was beginning to look more and more like a ditch resort as the letters rolled and despair swelled inside him; when at the very end, in the desperate part of the alphabet, a name caught his eye that filled the room with all the comfort that hadn’t been there all day, and a sense of realization lit up inside him.

He turned to Delilah. “You like Will, don’t you?”

Delilah didn’t answer, but Nico didn’t need her to. He didn’t like the answer to that question– namely that like didn’t cover it.

Not because it made him feel jealous –he knew that was childish of him– but because it also made him feel things, things he didn’t really dislike but as it was, would consume him if he thought about them too much; but in that moment, enslaved by the desperate need to get rid of that smothering grayness washing his heart out, he slid his finger across the screen, beginning a call, and he’d save the regrets for later.

The answer was almost instant.

“Hey, Nico. What’s up?”

Nico bit his cheek, cursing himself for having forgotten exactly how colorful his voice sounded.

But a voice so warm should not be so cruel, he thought, tantalizing him, asking him what’s up as if Nico ever called him up for anything other than one thing, as if there was a possibility that the point of this conversation was just talking for the pleasure of talking with each other–

“Um, not much.” He cleared his throat, hating the hoarseness in his voice. “Wanna come over?”

An embarrassed –disappointed?– sound on the line. “I was just about to go and get some food.”

Right, dinner time. Normal people eating schedule. Nico hadn’t really eaten all day, but something dropped in his stomach. “Oh. Yeah, it’s okay. Uh, enjoy your dinner, then.”

Nico started to take his phone off his ear, but before he could hang up–

“But– but maybe you wanna come?”

Nico blinked. Usually when Will asked him if he wanted to come the meaning was pretty different.

“Come?” he said, dumbly, bringing his hand back to his ears, and fuck, what was the question again–

“Yeah, uh, get some dinner. With me.”

Right, right, dinner. Nico consulted his body.

He hadn’t really even been hungry all day, and he still wasn’t hungry now; quite the opposite, actually, he was pretty sure that the mere sight of food would make him nauseous.

“Yeah, sure.”

Then Will said, “Cool,” a smile in his voice, and this was what Nico would get all the nausea in the world for.

This diner had to be a temple of Apollo, or something equally as ominous. He couldn’t believe it was a coincidence Will had chosen this place on his own. No, this was definitely a sign from above. A sign of what, he didn’t know. But there was something brewing there, in the kitchen of the heavens.

“So I said, no, I can’t let you guys have the NSH,” Will said in between two mouthfuls of his hamburger. The NSH was the Non Smoky Heater, the only portable heater in the hospital that didn’t smell like something was burning, the most valuable commodity in the building including the– Nico knew too much about an institution he didn’t even work at, didn’t he. “I mean, does the annual Christmas tree stealing competition even mean anything if you treat the winning price like some sort of easily transmittable good? Anyway, so now the whole hematology department hates me.”

It turned out Nico wasn’t nauseous, just somewhat hungry from not having eaten all day, which, no, he hadn’t expected. The sight of Will’s ravenous appetite wasn’t even making his stomach turn. It was more of a fluffy feeling in his stomach, like he’d been eating clouds. Or maybe that wasn’t related to food. “If they wanted the NSH they should have just won the Christmas tree competition.” Will nodded, too busy chewing to talk. “Then they wouldn’t parasitize Emergency.”

Will smiled slyly. “You could almost say these guys are… leeches.”

Something kept Nico from really laughing, and he just offered a similar smile back, but Will’s own disappeared just as quick, and he sighed, his gaze turning steady and solemn. Nico didn’t know whether he should look away, ask what’s wrong or smile.

Will spoke up before he could decide. “You still won’t tell me anything?”

“What?”

“Don’t what me, you’ve been acting hinky all evening and you didn’t even call the emergency ward EW. You love to call us ew.”

Nico scrunched his nose at him. “Who says hinky?”

“Hey, don’t change the subject.” Then, gently, “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

Nico swallowed. His acting skills weren’t perfect, but they worked on most people who weren’t Hazel or Jason. Will wasn’t bad at reading people, but since when was he that good? “I don’t know,” he croaked.

“You don’t have to, obviously. I’m just saying–” his eyes got lost for a second. “I know that I’m not– we’re not…” he hand gestured the rest between them, still holding a fry. “But I’m always here if you wanna talk to someone. Y’know.”

Nico didn’t have the fortitude to acknowledge the sticky part. The ‘we’re not’ part, that is, not the ketchup covered fry. “Yeah, I know, Will, I know,” he said, quietly, but it was true. “I just– there’s nothing to talk about, really.”

Will’s lips were pinched. “Okay,” he finally let it go.

“But, hey, um,” Nico said. “Thanks.”

“… sure. Uh, for what?”

He shrugged. “Taking me here.”

Will smiled. “Hey, no problem,” he said. “Always better to be accompanied than alone, right?”

Nico snorted, absently wondering if Will was saying it was better for him or himself. “You know, there’s a reason why that’s not how the saying goes. It’s because it’s not actually true.”

“What saying?” Nico just shook his head, half-defeated. “Anywhoozle, yeah, it’s true,” he continued. “I’d rather have your company than be alone any day of the week. ‘Cause, um, you’re great company,” he added clumsily.

Nico couldn’t help but pff at him. Just a little bit. “And you’re embarrassing company.” He started tracing a little line on the wet outside of his glass. “But I– I guess that’s not so bad either.”

Will smiled, and if Nico didn’t know the guy he could have thought it was genuine. “Hey, thanks. Keep giving me backhanded compliments and I might just end up falling in love with you.”

Nico knew how sarcasm worked, so he knew this was sarcasm, but try and explain that to his heart.

And now it was taking him too long to answer, and Will was raising smug eyebrows–

“Di Angelo, are you… trying to make me fall in love with you?”

Jokes and sarcasm. And yet all Nico found himself automatically replying was, “Is it working?”

He was just playing along, right?

But Will only laughed, not loudly. Nico frowned.

“What?” he asked indignantly.

Will shook his hand at him. “Nothing, I’m not making fun,” he said. “Just, you making these jokes–”

“I’m trying, okay? Not everyone can say stupid things as confidently as you.”

“I’m not stupid. Just a really good actor.”

“Oh, yeah? So like, what, are you pretending to be stupid just to make me laugh?” he smiled.

Will grinned. “Is it working?”

“Fuck you,” he muttered, his smile effectively wiped away by the smug look on Will’s face, looking aside to try and hide the blush he could feel rising to his face as Will burst into laughter once again, because yes, it was working, and Nico was a bitten fool–

“Nico,” Will said, just vaguely chuckling, dragging out the name.

“Hmph.”

“Nico?”

Nico knew it looked like he was acting like a child, but really, he couldn’t look at him, not when his face still felt like it was burning–

“Hey, I’m sorry,” came Will’s voice, gentle and honest, and Nico just wanted to– “I didn’t think you’d get mad.”

I’m not mad.

A pause.

“Hey, you know what, I’ll pay for your drink.”

Nico turned to him. “Will, I’m not mad at you, you don’t owe me any apolo–”

“No, I’ve already apologized. I just wanna buy you a drink,” he said, and just sighed when Nico just shot him an insistent look. “Look at it this way, I apologize to you and you get a free strawberry milkshake. It’s a win-win,” he called.

Nico held his stare for a second more, but yielded eventually, and breathed okay, biting his cheeks, while Will asked for the check, looking satisfied with himself.

And he takes you out for dinner? Nico’s scandalized conscience exclaimed in his head. For some reason his conscience had Jason’s voice, but that was another conversation. Nico brushed the disturbing thought off, instead following Will as he stood up and headed for the door after having placed some bills on the tray the waiter had brought.

They began walking across the dark parking lot, in the heavy glow of a few streetlamps. Nico glanced at Will under the sickly lighting and he could make out that his expression was bothered, but just subtly. Look casually enough and you might miss it.

“That’s not how win-win works, by the way,” he spoke up after a while in the cold silence, mist forming from his breath.

Will turned to him, and something fluttered inside Nico’s stomach when he saw that his smile, his genuine smile, was back. “You’re really close-minded when it comes to these little phrases, you know.”

He snorted. “Let me guess, did your kindergarten teacher ever tell you you were very creative?”

Will gasped. “How did you know? She did!” he grinned. “Oh my, you can just read me like a book.”

Nico just rolled his eyes, and now he was smiling too.

“Hello, m’lady,” was what came out of Will’s stupid mouth first thing when they entered the apartment.

Here we go again. Nico had given up a long time ago on trying to do anything other than observe the obligatory interaction.

“Aren’t you as dashing as ever, your majesty,” Will continued, not paying much attention as he shrugged off his coat and hung it without looking, instead already kneeling down to where Delilah had inevitably come to rub against his ankles, and petting her head in return.

“Oh, and you’re still as soft as last time I saw you! You must be well taken care of,” he said delightedly with a glance back at Nico, who just rolled his eyes as he undressed too.

“Don’t mind him, darling Delilah, he’s just a grumpy party pooper.”

Nico shook his head, and muttered, “You’re an idiot,” in passing them on his way to the bathroom, but Will, evidently unmindful of the silliness he was spouting, kept at his delighted pampering.

The cooing stopped while Nico was washing his hands, and when he came out the two of them were playing some kind of game where Will would hold his hand at various heights above Delilah’s head with a boyish grin, and she would try to reach up with her paws. The sight made a treacherous smile play on Nico’s own lips, forcing him to loop the eternal disk in his mind –this was his cat, and Will was only a friend, whom he slept with, sure, but nothing more than a friend.

Nothing about him, not his easy smiles, not the way his eyes looked at everything with so much life, the way they looked at him, Nico, with so much tenderness, even when Will was being as smug as Delilah or as un-charismatic as fathomable – not even the way Delilah had adopted him so quickly, making her a traitor– none of that meant anything. This was just how Will was, with the comfort he carried around with him, ridiculously easily, like the sandman carrying sand.

They’d made the rules clear when they started this arrangement anyway, and they reiterated them when the line became a bit foggy; when they spent a little too much time just chatting, laughing, when they smiled at each other for a second too long.

It was natural to get a bit confused when a whole middle stage was missing in their relationship. The check-ins were just a precaution, an occasional clarification that they didn’t like each other like that.

Nico absently stared as Will talked to Delilah, his expression very serious, as if he was having a conversation with his sister, which would’ve made Nico grin if he wasn’t so busy brooding over things that were meant to actually facilitate and clarify.

No, they didn’t like each other like that…

His thoughts evaporated abruptly, as he became aware of sound and a gaze directed at him.

“–big bummer, look at him. Ain’t it right, Nico, that you don’t play with her enough?”

Will’s face found itself close to Delilah’s, both pair of eyes fixing Nico accusingly, and Will had a pout on.

Nico huffed, crossing his arms. “Sure, that’s exactly why I bring you here. So you can entertain my high-maintenance cat.”

Will looked back at her. “Hear that, sweetheart? He doesn’t even care, the poor soul. I should just kidnap you and then we can live happily ever after, just the two of us. I’ll play with you anytime you want.”

“Stop bribing my cat, Solace.”

“And then we’ll go on nice trips together, I’ll take you down to Texas, you’ll see, it’s heaven for cats over there. Sun’s up all day, every day, and the people’re all nice.”

“I’m nice.”

“Sure you are, Debbie Downer.”

“Alright, this is stupid,” he declared, uncrossing his arms and coming down to sit on Delilah’s other side. “You’re just a silver-tongued idiot. She only lets you pet her ‘cause you talk in that stupid voice and call her stupid names, but I’m the one she really loves.”

“Yeah, right. That true, Delly?”

Where that man got his onomastic creativity from was a puzzler. Nico sighed. “Yes, it’s true. Show him who you love most, baby KitKat.”

Delilah was contently sitting and looking right before her, at neither of them, really.

“C’mon, baby,” Nico prompted her, reached out to her in impatience, but he’d barely grazed her back with his fingertips when she slipped from under his touch and fled into the kitchen. His eyes widened in shock, staring at the corner where she had disappeared, as Will burst into laughter.

Nico shot him a glare, and a punch on the arm, just for good measure. Betrayed by all.

“Ow,” Will let out between two breaths.

His cheeks were scrunched up, breathlessly pink. Wrinkles had formed on the corner of his fair lashes, and a bubbly sound was flowing out of his throat, tinged with candor.

Despite himself, Nico felt his frown soften into an infective smile. Eventually Will’s breath steadied, and he mirrored his expression as he looked up. His eyes had softened, but were still full of laughter.

Nico wasn’t sure how long he’d been motionless thinking about how Will’s face looked like someone had squished pomegranate seeds with their thumb then gently brushed the fresh juice on his skin, but it was probably too long. At some point Will’s expression had turned less carefree, and suddenly Nico was sitting on his hard hallway floor.

His face was still strawberry-red, but the color did not feel related to the laughter anymore. “Should we, um…?” he asked timidly.

“Oh,” Nico said dumbly. He bit his cheek. “Y–yeah. Probably should.”

Will smiled again, just like that, and rose to his feet, extending a hand that Nico accepted, bringing them face to face, after which Will didn’t let go. It wasn’t like Nico tried to draw his hand back anyway.

Will only looked into his eyes in a hesitant question that made him want to ask what it was, only he wasn’t sure it was his place to… But then his features subtly moved, the question became pinched wondering–

“What,” Nico blurted.

He didn’t answer right away. “Nothing,” he said, quietly. “Um.”

Nico waited, on edge, watching his eyes hesitate.

“Do you– Can I–” he cut himself off, only to look up and catch his gaze. “Can I kiss you?” he finished in a near-whisper, and oh.

Nico felt his own eyes dumbly flicker all over Will’s face, his chest suddenly too tight to let any air out, and they finally came to rest into Will’s.

He was still looking at him, waiting for him, hopeful, but very still, and the fact that Nico knew he would accept it if he said no made him want to say yes even more.

He didn’t care whether they should or not, all he cared about was that God , he wanted to be kissed by Will, so badly. That he’d been wanting to get kissed by Will, he realized with a difficult inspiration– and the word that finally came out of his lips was a, “Yes,” that sounded like a please.

They’d kissed before, but it had always been messy – just stolen, risky bites in the passion of the moment.

Nico had never been kissed like that by Will.

Will leaned in, and made it gentle, and slow, and just deliberate enough –and Nico instantly knew he was addicted.

He found himself desperately leaning right back in whenever they pulled away just to catch a small breath, as though if he didn’t go chasing after the touch quickly enough it would slip through his fingers, forever –it already felt like it had been slipping through his fingers all the time, after all.

But Will didn’t seem to want to stop either; and Nico would stay in that quiet hallway for nights just sharing kiss after kiss with him, if he would–

It already felt like nights before Will leaned in for the nth time, not towards his lips, but a bit lower, placing kisses on his jaw, patiently trailing towards his neck. Nico threaded his fingers in his hair, pulling him in, trying to get him closer, closer.

“Nico,” he breathed into his skin.

“Mmh,” was all Nico could manage, praying that he wouldn’t say this was too much, that he wanted to stop, that they shouldn’t–

“Let’s move.” It sounded like a plea.

Nico had never whined so happily. He felt Will smile against him at the sound, like he knew the reluctance was superficial, as he let him go eventually, but held onto his jaw, looking up at him.

If Nico wasn’t already out of breath, he would have been then.

Will had always looked pretty, that was a given. And maybe that was precisely it; Nico had always seen him looking pretty, handsome, cute, just because that was literally painted on his face, and anyone would be stupid not to recognize it when a painting was pretty; so every time they met up, Nico went in knowing he’d see the same pretty painting. It had become such a habit that he stopped noticing it –especially since there were so many other things to pay attention to.

He was too busy being captivated by how Will was kind, and expressive, and receptive, how he was funny even when his jokes weren’t, how he wasn’t lazy but liked lazy things; his easy smiles, his teasing smiles, the way his lips almost unnoticeably parted when he was focused, the enthusiasm in his eyes when he talked about medical stuff Nico would never have thought he’d care to listen to, his rested expression when Nico was not supposed to be looking.

Too busy memorizing that he had one sister and two brothers, that his Ma sounded like a fairy godmother, memorizing the stories for all five times he got to see Dolly Parton – and one of them wasn’t even during a concert–, that his favorite color was orange because that was when the sun was most beautiful, and that when he was young he had a pet duck named Gally, short for Galileo – “But was he gally?” – “Oh, yeah, one time he had the gall to get wet all over my mom’s concert dress that she’d left on her bed.”

And before he could realize, standing in his quiet hallway, barely even able to remember where four months had flown since he first saw the pretty painting, Nico looked again and suddenly Will was beautiful.

He looked misty, as misty as Nico felt. His features were harmonious, and he was wearing a smile way too small to be making Nico feel as many things as it was and– without a warning he was leaning in to skim over Nico’s cheek with his lips, leaving just as fast.

“Come,” he quickly said, barely leaving him time to feel his heart beat louder before going around and taking his hand to lead him to his own bedroom.

Nico would have said something about it being his house, but he really didn’t care about bickering right now. His heart was still beating too powerfully, and the only thing that mattered was that he wanted to be led, wanted to be taken care of, wanted to be taken care of by Will.

And, God, was Will good at taking care of him. He’d done it so many times before, and he seemed to get better at it each time, as if he was memorizing, learning how to –sliding his hands around his waist as soon as they passed the threshold, not wasting any time in pressing his lips to his neck where they’d left off, making him feel so light, yet his heart was so heavy with blood and longing.

The last remnants of his self-control were used to close the door behind them. He trusted Delilah, but not that much.

And then it was only Will; Will, who still smelled of sunscreen on this grayest of days because I have sensitive skin, Nico, gotta take care of it –hey, you should wear some, too, so we match; Will, who made the world feel like one of those mellow love songs he loved to listen to and hum; and who was applying all his might to bless every last bit of skin on Nico’s neck with his mouth.

Amused through the fuzziness wrapping all over his skin, Nico had to push him towards the bed himself by gently pressing against him.

Will steadily sat down, bringing him down on his lap so carefully it hurt, and god damn it, he was so considerate it made him want to cup his cheeks, and kiss him, and make him feel everything he couldn’t tell him.

He wanted him to know how warm he made him feel, wanted to make him feel the same.

But Will was too patient for his own good, and was only fiddling with the hem of his shirt even though they’d done this so many times before, fingertips only tentatively grazing over his sides–

“Will,” he pleaded.

He finally hummed, drawing back to take Nico’s shirt off, both of them so hazy from everything that the fabric got stuck at his chin.

Nico laughed, struggling out of it, and when he felt Will laugh too under him the warm feeling in his stomach only grew, forcing him to immediately press his lips back to his as soon as he got the stupid piece of fabric out of the way.

Will was still grinning into it at first, but soon it faded out into something desperate. Suddenly, to Nico’s driving hands, he was getting rid of his own shirt, and then Nico was being laid down on the bed in a clumsy but delicate shuffle, careful to pull Will down with him.

He didn’t want to let go, even if for just one second, because one second was long enough for him to realize that maybe, maybe he didn’t really want to–

“Will,” he sighed. He’d just felt a lick on a precise little patch of skin, right under his jaw.

Will only pleasantly hummed. He was too aware of what he was doing to him, that bastard, and too satisfied about it.

He pressed his chest down, not to rest, but obviously in a way that was only meant to please. And sure enough, curse his life and bless this man’s, Nico couldn’t suppress another sigh, made of unequal parts embarrassment and pleasure, which Will caught between his lips as soon as it spilled out, and all Nico could do was knead the soft skin right behind his shoulders more eagerly, knowing that he’d like it.

“Nico,” Will breathed again.

Nico didn’t know if it was a question, or if he was just saying his name, but either way, the way he’d exhaled it made him want to do stupid things, like stop kissing him just to caress and stare at his face or call him baby or –

Will cut his thoughts off again by kissing him –deeper, and more pointedly than before, as if he felt Nico drifting off and wanted to bring him back to him.

And then– then he rolled his hips against his, slow and vigorous, eliciting another half-hushed moan from both of them, and Nico knew it was stupid, he knew it didn’t make sense, but he couldn't help thinking that this was more intimate than it should be, even though they were about to have sex, for heaven’s sake, so of course it was intimate–

“Oh,” Will said, rolling his hips again, and yeah, oh–

Will starting making soft sounds, like he always did, moving to a broad rhythm. He was always vocal, but this time it was slightly more intense, even though this was the slowest they’d ever– oh. Nico smirked.

“You’re really into this, huh,” he managed through audible breathing.

But Will’s eyelashes only fluttered up at him. His heart almost stopped when wide blown pupils showed themselves, any attempt at teasing or smug smile he still had in him cut short.

Will gazed at him, soft and earnest. “I’m really into you, baby,” he whispered.

Nico stared, speechless, and when Will, face flushed and eyes languorous, hesitantly came down to kiss him one more time, he let him.

Nico had never really had the opportunity to notice exactly how soft Will’s hair was. It looked soft, sure, but the only times he’d actually touched it he had either been pulling, or just brushing his hand too quickly to actually get anything.

But now, slowly running his fingers through his loose curls in the dark as Will lay dozing on his stomach, he could feel exactly how soft it was.

Will vaguely moved from time to time, just to slightly nuzzle his chest, sometimes with a little hum, so quiet, that resonated through Nico so softly, yet with more impact on his heart that an earthquake could have had.

“You’re just like my cat,” Nico said.

Will spoke into his skin, his voice muffled so Nico could barely discern the words, and frankly, he’d rather not have discerned what Will said at all this time.

“Fuck your cat often?”

Nico pulled at his hair, just hard enough to get the message across.

Will made a little pained noise, which he suspected was mainly dramatic.

“Don’t whine, you deserved that.”

He muttered something, but this time Nico only felt the vibrations of his voice and the movement of his lips on his skin. It didn’t sound like something very nice, anyway, so he was probably not missing much.

The room was quiet. It must have been well past midnight by now, judging the stillness of the street and the look of the sky outside the window.

Nico felt something soar in his heart, something halfway between hope and courage. “It’s kinda cold outside,” he said quietly.

Will’s voice was gloved with sleep. “Yeah.”

He looked at his dusky ceiling, his hand momentarily pausing in Will’s hair.

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

He really hoped Will wasn’t feeling how embarrassingly fast his heart was beating, especially when the reply came, even softer-

“M’yeah.”

Nico tried really hard not to smile like an idiot. His heart was beating even faster, and there was no way he would be able to fall asleep now, not with the weight of Will’s body comforting him, with knowing he would still be there tomorrow morning when he’d wake up, not with hair that soft, so soft, so, so soft…