Chapter Text
“So, did you write back to her?”
Nico sighs, head hitting the headboard of his bed with a thud.
To be fair, it’s barely four in the morning, and the expectation of someone – anyone, really – talking to him about something other than weather reports is somewhat unexpected.
“Why are you not asleep?” Nico asks.
“There was a signal from a lost ship. Don’t change the topic.”
“Shouldn’t you be working, then?”
“You are still changing the topic.” Nico can’t see, but can clearly imagine Reyna rolling her eyes in annoyance. “Hazel told me that Bianca sent you that letter three weeks ago.”
Nico furrows. “Why are you even talking to my sister?”
“Which one?”
“Either of them!” Nico lets out another exasperated sigh. “And, you know, maybe that’s none of your business? Maybe I am busy working?”
Reyna huffs from the other side of the line. It’s chopped and distorted, and ends up sounding more like a screech. “There is barely any traffic in your area.”
“There is barely any traffic all around the island.”
“Exactly my point.”
Nico purses his lips, putting the radio on the table beside him as he looks outside the window.
He liked Reyna, really. They were friends in a way that Nico couldn’t say about a lot of people in his life. She was smart, extremely witty, and also painstakingly straightforward. It’s something that he has always appreciated, but now it seems to be biting him in the ass. Hard.
“Look,” he starts, picking up the radio again. “I have to work, but I’ll try to draft my letter to her today, okay? No promises, though.”
“And you will tell me as soon as you send it out?”
“‘Course,” he lies. “You will hear about it from Hazel anyway, wouldn’t you?”
Nico hears Reyna chuckle. A short beep signifies the end of the signal, and the distortion of the radio quiets down.
They don’t really say goodbye to each other anymore – no need. Nico misses it sometimes, that sense of finality of a conversation.
Bye, see you next week.
Let’s catch up soon. I’ll see you tomorrow.
It used to give him a feeling of the passage of time. And now it’s long non-existent.
Nico squints, looking at the soft glow of dark blue stretched over the sky. The crispness of the air catches him even inside the lighthouse, cold and sharp as it slams into the open windows.
With a last glance at the half-open letter on the bedside, Nico gets up. He walks outside and holds a mere string of hope that the winds would carry all of his thoughts away.
*
Dear Nico,
I hope you are well. I wonder if you get my letters, but Hazel mentioned that the local mailbox works just fine, so I am writing to you again.
I know that you are still confused about the wedding, but I really….
*
When people think about lighthouses, they mostly think of white towers with barely any space, deserted locations, and men who are going insane from acute loneliness. There is a certain truth to it — Nico is quite sure he goes insane on a daily basis – but more often than not, his duties are constricted to bureaucracy. Filling in the paperwork, doing monthly inspections of equipment, and transmitting weather reports. If he is lucky enough, Reyna assigns him a map update routine from time to time. On good days, he plays video games after the shift. It’s a good life, regardless of what his family thinks.
“Keeper Di Angelo, at Styx Point.” Nico winces from a loud distortion, pulling the radio further away from the transmitter. “Daily weather report at 0603 hours. Visibility’s low—maybe half a nautical mile, thick fog rolled in just before dawn. Winds steady from the northeast at 15 knots, gusting closer to 25. Barometric pressure dropped to 998 millibars and is falling. Looks like we’ve got a squall forming off the southern ridge, moving fast. Seas are choppy, with whitecaps out past the shoals. No marine traffic sighted. Recommend caution for any vessels eastbound between markers 12 and 20. That’s all for now. I’ll check in again at 0903.”
With a sigh, he releases the button, leaning back into his chair. His eyes dart up to the ceiling, focusing on a big molded spot right above his head. Nico makes a face. He really needs to bring this up with Reyna next time she checks in.
“Fuck,” he groans.
The fucking letter. He can’t call Reyna in unless he finishes that damned piece of paper.
Nico pats the pockets of his padded jacket, taking the paper out. His hands are shaking – not from the cold. Carefully, he starts to unwrap it again, just till the corners start to reveal the neat handwriting.
“Is anyone there?”
Nico jumps in his place. He looks at the mounted radio first, but it appears to be dormant, not showing any signs of connection. He frowns, looking at the boxy intercom lying abandoned at the edge of the table.
“Uhm,” he mumbles, then remembers to press the PTT. “Keeper di Angelo here. What’s your problem?”
He winces. As if he were in any important enough position to solve anyone’s problems.
“Oh, thank god.” The voice on the other side exhales with relief. “I have an emergency. My main radio went down. All of the power is out, actually. A rogue wave. I am not so sure, though, I think that it can also be–”
“Wait-wait, can you slow the fuck down?” Nico stands up, pacing the cabin. “Who are you?”
Silence on the other side. Then the distortion picks up again.
“Right. Keeper Solace, Bay Beacon. This is Morningtide, correct?”
“No. Styx Point.”
“Shit.” The voice curses. “Sorry. I am quite stressed, with the power out, and now this ship that needs to come through, and the beacon is broken.”
“I can try to help,” Nico suggests. He hopes he sounds reassuring – people misunderstand his tone quite often.
“Really?” Solace guy sounds quite hopeful. Nico is not sure if it’s the quality of the transmission or if the person sounds as if they went through five circles of distress before calling in.
“Sure,” Nico says. “We had quite a rough morning here, but everything is working. I can use the radio to report the damage to Rey–Keeper Arellano so she can help the ship reroute and send someone to fix the power.”
“You’re a lifesaver!”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Nico huffs, sitting back down. “I’ll call you back to report the status, so keep your intercom near you, okay?”
“‘Kay, that’s a deal.” Another sound follows, and it sounds a bit like laughter. “I owe you big time, man.”
Nico makes a face. Man? What are they, fifteen? “Stay on the line,” he says instead, putting his intercom down.
He grabs a headset, pulling the microphone to his lips, dialing the familiar number on the panel. “Reyna?”
The answer comes through in seconds. “You’re alright? I’ve heard there was a rough morning.”
“I’m all good, but there is this guy. He contacted me from the Bay Beacon. There was a Rogue wave or whatever, and there is no power.”
“Oh, shit.”
“There’s more.” Nico wets his lips. “Before the outage, the ship contacted him to pass through. The beacon is empty and–”
“We might need to reroute,” Reyna concludes. “Got it. Might take me a few hours to sort it out fully, though. Are you still in contact with Will?”
Nico frowns. “Who?”
“The guy that you talked to at Beacon Bay. His name is Will.” Nico hears some shuffling and scratching on the other line. “Seriously, you didn’t ask for his name?”
Nico rolls his eyes. “Well, I am sorry, we were kind of busy trying to prevent a shipwreck.” He sighs. “Anyway, I am out. Also thanks. Tell me if I need to fill in the paperwork for this.”
Nico switches off the radio and picks up his intercom.
“Hey, Solace.”
“Still here,” The voice – Will – replies.
“Reyna will take care of this. Not sure about the power issue, though, might be put on stand-by.”
“Great,” Will groans. “It already gets dark at, like, three. Now I am doomed to the eternal darkness.”
“That’s a little dramatic.” Nico can’t help but smile. “You’ll be fine.”
“You don’t know that! Last week, I kept hearing weird noises from the forest.”
“That was probably a bird or a sheep.”
“That doesn’t make it less scary.”
Nico shuts his eyes, turning off the comms. That was more words than he was used to saying out loud per day. It should be annoying, and Nico should tend to his other important duties (filling out stacks of paperwork) and leave this guy be. Nothing ever happens in this place – he will be fine.
And yet, Nico clutches the intercom in his hand tightly. “Look, I need to do some work around, but, uh–” He stumbles over words, eyes darting up. “I can check in with you again in the evening. Maybe there will be an update, or whatever. If that makes it easier.”
The line stays quiet for longer than Nico expected. He starts fidgeting, his teeth sinking deep into his lip. Was it too much? They barely know each other. That’s why he doesn’t talk to people except for Reyna and–
“You really are a lifesaver!” Will’s voice cuts through. He sounds elated. “Seriously, man, thank you. I appreciate that.”
“It’s really nothing,” Nico replies, tucking away a small smile. “I’ll call you in around 2200. You can call me back if you miss it.”
Nico doesn’t wait for an answer, putting the intercom away in a drawer.
He doesn’t trust himself enough to carry it around with him today.
*
Later that day, not long after the last weather report is transmitted, Nico gets home in a quite disoriented state. His couch is nice and warm as he sinks down in front of the TV, grabbing the joystick in one of his hands. Then his eyes dart to the automatic clock to his left, and he takes a deep breath, pulling the intercom from his pocket.
“Hey, Solace?” He tries, awkwardly pushing the button at the side of the device. “Will? You there?”
The transmission ends with a short beeping sound, and the room is submerged in quietness again. For a split second, Nico thinks about the possibility of Will actually being mauled by an animal. Which should be very low, considering there are no big predators around the area. Who knows? One can be mauled by a seal these days, easily.
Nico doesn’t have to wonder for long, though. “Hey, di Angelo!” Will replies, with the same uptilt to his voice. “I almost started to think you backed down on your word.”
“It’s barely past six.”
“It’s not like I can get much work done without the power.”
“Oh, you poor soul,” Nico teases. “Must be hard.”
“It is!” Will laughs. “It’s super boring on a regular basis, without the power, I don’t even have work to do to pass the time.”
“You didn’t pick a good job then.”
“I guess.”
“Sorry.” Nico winces. “I am blunt, usually. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
“It's cool.”
Nico is not very skilled when it comes to subtle messages, but Will does sound quite unbothered. His voice is light, but surprisingly hoarse. As if he has been having a sore throat. It’s very distinct.
“So, what are you doing here?” Will asks.
“Resting after my shift?”
“No, dummy,” he laughs. “I mean, here, on the island?”
Nico smiles. “Why’d you ask?”
“It’s an unusual job.”
“Isn’t that the whole point?” Nico blurts out. Then curses silently again. “Sorry, I am ruining the mood. As you said, it can get lonely out there.”
“It’s fine,” Will replies. “I have regular calls-in, you know? With Drew, from the Lightbeam Point. She’s funny. Mean sometimes, but at last it keeps me entertained.”
“I’m not–” Nico sucks in a breath. His eyes land on a plastic iguana skeleton that Hazel gifted him, and he grabs it from the table, sliding the figure between his hands. “I don’t really keep in touch with anyone. Reyna does check up on me, but other than that–” He finishes with a shrug.
“I wish I could be as okay on my own as you.”
“I love alone time. I have books, and games, I sometimes draw–”
Will huffs. “No shit.”
“Why?”
“You sound–”
“Like a poser?” Nico chuckles, still fidgeting with the toy.
“No! Artsy. An artsy type.” Will sighs. It sounds more dramatic than exasperated. “See? You have so many things. I usually just space out and pace the whole perimeter back and forth. But Drew knows the gossip, so at least it’s not as boring. Like watching a shitty reality TV.”
“So, what’s the gossip these days?”
It’s not like Nico is really curious about the gossip – he knows plenty about how people talk about him. But hearing Will talk is comforting, and Nico is too anxious to come up with the topics to keep the conversation going, so he settles on listening.
Will rambles a lot. He tells him about a few alleged affairs, and about a sighting of ghosts on the perimeter of the island, and some kind of true crime story about a maniac roaming through the North Woods. It’s silly and absurd, but kind of amusing in its own way.
“Ah, shit, we need to wake up in like three hours?”
Nico’s head snaps, looking at the clock. He must have blanked out at some point.
“Oh,” Will says. “ Lost track of time.”
“Yeah, me too.” Nico yawns, as if to confirm his tiredness. “I’m gonna call it a day, I think. Give me an update about the power tomorrow, okay?”
“That’s kind of sweet, di Angelo.”
“Fuck off.” Nico huffs, plopping down onto his bed. “But also, good night.”
*
….. but I really wanted to say that I would be so so happy if you could come. You haven’t RSVP’d yet to the invitation, and I know that land mail is slow. But I also know you, and I know that it is not the issue here. So if you want to talk about it….
*
When Nico was little, his mother used to tell him stories about planets. More often than not, he would fall asleep to them, barely remembering anything in a sleepy haze of his mother’s soft voice and her gentle touch. One story that he remembers very clearly is about Neptune.
“They discovered it by mere luck,” she used to tell him. “They didn’t have a good enough telescope then, or equipment, so they just– predicted that it exists.”
As a child, he remembers being very intrigued. Can you predict that something – anything in the world – is just, there? What if someone who hasn’t ever met Nico is just sure that he exists, in one form or another?
In the end, the shtick about Neptune was much more mundane, as Nico found out. It involved a lot of math, calculations, and some orbital mechanics. Not as poetic as his mom made it out to be.
Regardless of the simplicity, Nico still holds on to that story. Imagine having an impact on the universe as big, to the extent that people didn’t need to see it to believe it actually exists. What kind of trace, or fucked-up legacy, does it leave behind for it to happen?
It’s something that puts more meaning into his actions.
Every time he puts on the lights, it leaves an impact. Every time he chooses to switch the broken lamp or report about the approaching hurricane, it leaves a trace. Sometimes, just in the records that Reyna fills in, but it’s still a trace. One day, when humanity is long gone, or the lighthouses become of no use and abandoned, someone would find a record and think of him. They would simply know that he, Nico Di Angelo, existed on this stupid rock that flies in space.
Kid Nico would find this super cool. As an adult, Nico thinks it’s rather lame.
He doesn’t anticipate anything these days. And yet–
“Hey, di Angelo?”
The first thing that takes Nico aback is not the fact that Will called, but the fact that he keeps posing his greeting as questions. As if apologizing in advance for intruding.
“Solace?” Nico winces from the creakiness of his own voice. He needs water.
Lazily, he gets up. His head is buzzing with pressure, as if he drank a bit too much last night.
“How did you know?”
Nico snorts. It’s a dumb question. “It’s not like there are a lot of guys I am talking to.”
The implication gets to him only after he takes a big gulp of water. Nico chokes, coughing it out.
There is laughter on the other side of the line. “I would have guessed that you are.”
Nico flushes. Then reminds himself that Solace is not there to see it, anyway. “You don’t even know how I look.”
“It’s not about the looks, these days.” There are still traces of laughter in Will’s voice. “That’s not why I called, though. I wanted to give you an update that the power is back.”
Nico’s heart drops, as if a sinkhole opened at the bottom of his stomach, dragging each organ into it. “Oh,” he whispers.
He doesn’t want to identify this feeling as disappointment.
“Yeah,” Will replies. “Apparently, one of the generators was working in the background, and it messed up the circuit. Or something like that.”
Nico nods. He doesn’t really care about circuits or dormant generators. “I am glad it worked out,” he says.
Nico’s nails scratch the water glass. The noise is almost painful, cutting into his ears. At least it dulls down this odd feeling in his heart. Fear.
The line stays quiet long enough for Nico to play out the funeral in his head. Thank you, power outage, for bringing me and another human being who is not my sister or my superior together. It has been short-lived, but one of the brighter spots of my day. You will be remembered.
God, he is so fucking pathetic.
Then the static goes back up as the line turns on.
“Any plans for today?”
Nico blinks at the radio in his hand, as if it suddenly grew teeth and wings. “Uhm.” He looks around, confused. “Nothing much. The usual?”
“Makes sense. I was planning to chase down the sheep.”
“What?”
“The sheep. It keeps bothering me at night. I don’t even know how it got there.”
Nico chuckles. “So, you get the sheep and then, what? You planning to kill it?”
“What? No!” Will sounds genuinely offended, and it’s kind of sweet. “I’ll just tie it to the pole and wait for someone to pick it up.”
It’s ridiculous. “Might work,” Nico says instead. He honestly just wants to see what happens.
“See, you’re cool. I knew you’d get it.”
Nico wants to point out that he is the farthest thing away from cool, but bites his tongue. If Will Solace wants to think Nico is cool, so be it.
“I’ll wait for an update on this unbelievable story, then.” Nico clenches his jaw tight. His heart is about to jump out of his chest and into the sea.
Will is not stupid. He should understand that Nico gives him an opening. Either leave and pretend this never happened, or have an excuse to talk again, without any burden of emergencies and filing reports.
“Of course,” Will says, and Nico exhales in relief. “You’ll hear it from me first. And maybe from the local animal control second.”
Nico tucks away a smile, saying his awkward goodbyes. He feels elated. Giddy. He hasn’t felt anything similar to this in a long time.
It scares him more than it should.
*
Reyna calls in later in the day.
Usually, Nico is emotionally prepared for those calls. He is alert, he expects them, and not because of the seniority or urgency. Because calls with Reyna inevitably lead to the discussion of the L word or the W word.
The letter. The wedding.
Today, Nico is slacking off. He can’t help the smile that keeps climbing up his lips while he does the most boring of stuff. His heart palpitates. He counts down minutes and seconds till ten o’clock.
So the call takes him off guard.
“They fixed the issue with the Beacon Bay.”
Nico is in the middle of his equipment check-up, his hands sore from the cold. His attempt to press the PTT button only works the third time he does it. “I know. Will told me.”
Silence sets for a few minutes. Then, “I didn’t know he was still talking to you.”
“Why not?” Nico asks. It comes out a bit too defensive.
“Because there is no need once a senior has been notified,” Reyna explains. “Are you talking?”
Nico drops a wrench in his hand. It clatters loudly on the floor. “He was scared. I just kept him company while they were fixing the lights.”
It is the truth, so Nico’s voice is somewhat confident. So what if he is keeping out some of the details – it’s no one’s business who he talks to off the clock.
“Good,” Reyna replies curtly. It’s the end of it, it seems. “So, the letter–”
Nico groans. “I will finish it today.”
“I’ve heard that yesterday.”
“Well, I was dealing with an emergency,” Nico snaps back. Then curses out. “Sorry. I am sorry.” He breathes out. “I know you are trying to help.”
Nico doesn’t see, but can imagine Reyna’s expressions vividly – pursed lips, hooded look, concerned curve of her eyebrows.
“It’s okay, Nico,” she says, surprisingly softly. “I am sorry for rushing you.”
Fifteen minutes before Will is supposed to call, Nico, once again, twists and turns the folded letter in his hands. There is a dot somewhere, put with a pencil. He marks so he doesn’t forget where he stopped reading.
The walkie-talkie near his bed comes alive. “So,” Will starts. “I almost killed the sheep.”
Nico, despite himself, laughs out loud.
*
… if you want to talk about, you know that I don’t care about the distance, right? I could come in the next day, right away. Hazel and I really miss you. Percy and Jason miss you, too. And I respect your choice. I know why you hesitate to come home, but…
*
“Do you think birthdays are morbid?”
Nico chuckles, picking up the radio from his bedside. His back hurts a little – his bad habit of reading in bed instead of the armchair with good support.
“What a way to start a conversation, Will,” he replies.
There is a strange noise on the other side, and it’s not static.
“What?” Nico asks.
“No, nothing.” Will doesn’t sound as if it’s nothing. “You just– it’s the first time you called me by my name.”
Nico freezes. It’s an honest accident – not his fault that Reyna told him Will’s name, in the first place. And calling him Solace constantly in his head felt way too business casual.
And, well – fuck business casual.
“Sorry. Reyna kind of told me your name when we were settling your emergency.” Nico settles for the truth because it’s not that incriminating. Not as incriminating as the fact that Nico just likes saying Will’s name out loud. To make sure he exists not only in his head. “I hope it’s fine.”
“Of course it’s fine, di Angelo.” Nico can hear an eyeroll in Will’s voice. “Just feels unfair. I don’t even know your name.”
Nico blinks. Oh.
Right.
“It’s Nico. You can also use my name, if you want.”
“Well, shit.”
It’s an odd reaction. Nico frowns.
“Your surname and your name are cool. What an unfair world.”
“Your name is pretty cool, too. I like it,” Nico blurts out.
It should be awkward, but Will just laughs in reply. “You’re just trying to make me feel better,” he says. “I can face the harsh truth, Nico, it’s fine.”
It’s like a sucker punch. He hears the sound of his own name mostly from Reyna, but the way Will says it is so, so different. It’s earth-shaking. World-shattering. It’s airy, and low, and beautiful, and makes his heart itch with a primal need.
Fuck.
“So, birthdays. What are we thinking?”
Nico exhales. Bless Will’s soul. “Well, they are kind of dumb. Why would anyone want to celebrate being a year closer to their death?”
“My birthday is tomorrow.”
Nico cuts out the line and slaps his face. Can he say the right thing at least once in his damned existence? “I am sorry.”
“You should stop apologizing,” Will says. “Besides, I don’t celebrate birthdays either. It’s not like the lighthouse is at the top of places for a birthday party.”
“You are planning anything?”
There is the sound of shuffling. Will pressed the button, but still didn’t reply. It paints Nico a picture – Will making his way to make coffee or tea. Will is sitting on the couch, with a blanket over his knees. Will, on his back, sprawled like a sea star on his bed.
It’s dizzying to realize that Nico has no clue what Will even looks like.
“As I said, not really a place for a party,” Will replies. There is something different about his voice, something that Nico can’t quite put his finger on. “I will maybe have dinner, cook something nice.”
“Like a cake?”
“I am more of a savoury guy.”
Nico snorts. “Of course you are.”
“I was wondering if you’d join me.”
A smile falls from Nico’s lips. Something weird and acidic climbs up his throat. “We are, like, a thousand kilometers away from each other. Not sure if this is possible.”
It’s not, right? Nico can’t exactly call a ship, or make it out on time for tomorrow. But maybe if he tried–
“I meant, to be with me on the line. Talk, like we usually do.”
Ah. Nico gulps. Of course.
He is so stupid.
“You can cook yourself something nice, too.”
Nico wants to say that his relationship with food is not of that kind, but restrains himself. He embarrassed himself enough. “Sure,” he says instead.
Will makes one of his odd sounds. “Tomorrow at eight o’clock, then. You’d better wear something nice.”
In Nico’s mind, Will is winking as he is saying that. Nico doesn’t know what to do with that information, so he just tucks it away.
*
Nic thinks he did a good job. He is proud of himself.
A weird concoction of rice, beans, spinach and mushrooms stares back from his plate at him. It’s the healthiest meal he has made for himself in a while. Nico takes a bite. It’s a bit more sour than he prefers, but he likes how fresh the taste feels on his tongue.
“What are you wearing?”
Nico chokes on the piece of spinach, spatting it out.
Will, the bastard, laughs. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
“Well, fuck you, too,” Nico mumbles quietly. Then, “Happy birthday,” a bit louder.
“Thanks!” Will sounds good today. Cheerful. “I am really happy that you are keeping me company.”
This time Nico is smart, and doesn’t shove food in his mouth as Will speaks. He is very thankful. “Of course,” he takes a sip from his glass. “I even opened wine for the occasion.”
Will hums on the other side – he always does this; turns on his radio just a bit before he speaks. Nico catches every breath, every little noise.
He wonders, stupidly, if this is a date. It feels like a date. Or, maybe, Nico just wants it to be one.
“I don’t drink but am supporting you in spirit,” Will says. “One of my sisters used to be obsessed with grape juice. My mother was very strict about our sugar intake, so she only allowed us to drink juice on special occasions. I always asked for grape juice even though I hate it, so my sister can have it twice a year.”
Nico smiles. It’s sweet, but more than that, it’s a very Will thing to do. They have known each other for a bit more than a month, and yet his brain quietly labels this piece of information as something very in character for him.
“Do you miss her?” Nico asks.
The line falls flat. Nico clenches his fists, palms suddenly sweaty. What an idiotic question.
“Yeah,” Will replies with a slight delay. “I have five siblings. Can’t say I miss all of them, but some of them more than others.”
“I get that.”
“Do you have siblings?”
Shit. Nico should have expected that. “Yeah. Two sisters.”
“Lucky.”
Nico rolls his eyes. “Not really. My younger one is constantly trying to boss me around, despite being the youngest. And my older one–”
Nico sucks in a breath. What is he to say?
She really fucking wants me to come to her wedding.
“It’s more complicated,” Nico settles with that and hopes Will doesn’t pick up on a tremble in his voice.
“Family is complicated sometimes.” Will’s voice turns smooth, velvet. Soothing even through the barrier of static and intermittent wavelengths. “I– ah. I want to tell you something, but it’s not going to be pretty.”
Nico feels a pinch of anxiety. “Okay,” he replies.
He wonders if Will is a serial killer. The thought doesn’t scare him – it scares him that most likely, he wouldn’t even care about that.
Nothing to set Nico’s moral compass off as a true human connection. What a twist.
“The first time, we talked when the outage happened. I asked you what you are doing here. Most people run away, usually, but it felt like you liked being alone. For me, well, it’s–” Nico hears an uneven pattern of Will’s breathing. “My brother died, and it’s my fault.”
“Will, you don’t have to–”
“At least, I think it’s my fault. He was always a bit harder for me to get along with than my sisters. He had a temper, and I had an even bigger one. That night we got into this stupid fight – I don’t even remember what about – and he yelled that he wished he had never known me. There was a storm, that day. He got hit by a car.”
Nico grasps the wine glass in his palm, knuckles going white. “It’s not your fault, Will.”
Will chuckles dryly. “Do I know it?” he whispers. “I am sorry for telling you all of it. I guess I just wanted to be honest. About the kind of person you are talking to. Unless it’s too late.”
Nico wants to scream or break something. He thinks of sunny, bright Will feeling anxious over Nico, out of all the possible people on this planet, cutting ties because of this. When Nico himself has been worrying about how it will happen the other way around.
“My sister sent me a letter a few weeks ago. A wedding invitation, but not really. And I can’t even fucking read it.” Nico presses the PTT button so hard that he fears it might collapse. “I open it, and just stare at it, and read two sentences at a time. It’s barely two hundred words on a fucking piece of paper. And I just– can’t.”
Will doesn’t offer words of comfort, and Nico is thankful. Pity is the last thing he needs.
Nico doesn’t say anything else, but still stays on the line, breathing hard. Will echoes his breathing, subtly.
“We’re both kind of fucked up, aren’t we?” Will is the first to speak again, because of course he is. It sounds like he is smiling –a sad smile. “That’s not how I imagined this going today, you know.”
Nico laughs. It sounds exasperated in his own ears. “I wish I were there,” he says.
He doesn’t elaborate. There, as in, with Will. Or there, as in, with his sister. Or there, as in, on this planet. On Neptune, that was predicted to exist but never seen.
But Will gets it. “Me too,” he replies, softly. “So fucking much.”
*
… but we all have your back. We care about you. Dad also cares about you, in his own way. You don’t have to talk to him, anyway. Or do this for him. Do this for me, okay? For people who care about you.
*
“I’ll come to the wedding.”
The silence is heavy, hanging over Nico like a storm cloud.
“Are you serious?” It comes in much later, half an hour after Nico sends the message. He can tell that Reyna is elated.
“When am I not?” Nico deadpans.
“Oh, Nico.” It sounds like she is crying. “It’s great news. Did you– did you tell her? Did you tell Hazel, too?”
Nico shakes his head, then realizes that Reyna doesn’t see him. “No, you’re first.”
“I am honored.”
Nico groans. “Don’t make a big deal out of this.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She laughs. “Tell Will I said hi.”
Nico doesn’t have the strength to protest or deny her.
*
The dream starts in a purple hue.
Clouds settling over the sea, sun setting over the horizon, Nico feeling at home and at peace.
There is a body beside him. Their face is blurry, but the smile on their lips is clear, bright, and really vivid. Their voice in his ears is vivid, too. A smooth silk, crushed velvet in between his fingertips.
Then, there are hands. On his body, on his face, right under his shirt at his hips. Pleasure thrums through his veins like a pleasant drug, like liquid gold, grounding him into the surface of his bed, making him shiver.
Nico sits up, shaking. He is sweaty – practically everywhere. His shirt is stained, his hair is damp, and his palms are clammy.
The front of his pajama pants is strained.
Nico groans, out loud.
“Nico?”
Nico jolts, looking around the room. He pinches himself, wondering if this is still a dream with a beautiful, shapeless stranger in it. But it’s not, because the sound comes from beside his pillow. He fell asleep with his walkie-talkie in his hand while talking to Will.
He shudders.
“Sorry. I was dreaming. Must have accidentally put you through,” Nico says.
“No problem,” comes the reply. “What kind of dream?”
Will’s voice is deliciously groggy and hoarse. Nico is once again painfully aware of the pressure just below his waistband, of the details of his blurred dream.
Nico clenches sheets with his fingers. This is an absolutely disastrous idea, the one that happens only in those lame, raunchy videos that he only watched during puberty.
Nico opens his mouth, trying to form some semblance of a sentence. The lie that he wants to tell is right there, at the tip of his tongue – it was a nightmare, sorry for waking you up. But nothing comes out. He can’t push it out past his mouth, no matter how hard he tries.
This huge, dragging need weighs down his body.
“Will,” he gasps. Tomorrow, Nico will feel bad about how desperate he sounded. Almost begging for something that he doesn’t know how to put into words.
Nico falls back on the pillows and faintly wonders if Will’s even there anymore. He probably fell asleep. So Nico does not feel bad as he puts pressure on the straining tent in his pants.
“It’s okay, Nico, I got you.”
Nico whimpers. It’s an undignified sound, but he can’t do anything to stop it from spilling out. His mouth opens, and his movements get swift, practiced, and he hears Will saying some intangible, barely comprehensible words right into his ear. A sweet melody, a soothing tune.
The shapeless being that he saw in a dream forms into Will.
Because it has always been Will.
Nico swears he can almost see his face, almost makes out the features, the swell of his cheeks, and the edges of his smile.
*
They pretend it didn’t happen.
That Nico didn’t get off to Will’s voice, like a fucking pervert. Joke's on him, because Will is also a fucking pervert, because it didn’t sound like he felt any disgust while talking Nico through it. Nico doesn’t want to look the truth in the eyes, but it almost sounded like– like Will enjoyed it, too.
They don’t talk about it and it’s stupid because something shifted.
Nico sips on his coffee just when his radio comes to life. “Nico, look–”
“I decided to go to the wedding.”
Exhale.
“Nico, that’s great!” It’s hard to gauge, but Will does sound as if he is sincerely happy. No indication of disgust from last evening. “I am very proud of you.”
Color rushes to Nico’s cheek. The words should not sound as sensual as they do to him. He shakes his head, taking a big sip of his drink. “I couldn’t do it without you,” he admits.
“I am sure you could,” Will replies. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
“We have known each other for a month.”
“And?”
“You’re ridiculous, Will.”
And just like that, it carries on as if nothing happened. Nico is relieved, but also fucking hates it.
*
Some nights, he wonders if Will gets off to Nico’s voice, too.
*
Nico highlights the date of the wedding with a yellow marker on his bird calendar. It’s in June, and it’s the month of the kingfisher, spanning out its winging gorgeously.
Hazel requests a call with him a month before. Nico has to get into his car and get to the nearest post office to get it.
“Are you bringing a plus one?” is the first thing she asks.
“I am fine, thank you for asking, sister,” Nico sighs. “Who would I even bring? Not like I have many friends who are not your friends.”
“Reyna said you made a friend.”
Nico pulls the phone from his ear and bangs his head on the glass. “Of course she did,” he says.
“Why not ask him?”
There are myriad reasons. One of them is embarrassing, and the last person he wants to talk about it with is his younger sister. “I don’t even know how he looks.”
“But you talk.”
“We talk,” Nico confirms. “That’s it.”
“Sounds like a friend to me,” Hazel says. “Think about it. Maybe it’s a good reason to meet.”
*
Of course, Will agrees.
*
“Will I need the suit?” Will asks, cheekily. “Will you be in a suit?”
Nico snorts. “Don’t sound too excited.”
They don’t bring up the call, but at the same time, the shift caused them to be more careless with the flirting. Somehow it feels as easy as breathing.
“Fine.” Will laughs. “I am only going because of food, you know.”
“Never doubted it.”
Nico looks over at the sea. It’s a bit stormy today, and from this high up, the waves crash over the cliffs over and over again.
“Are you nervous?”
Nico thinks, at first, that Will means meeting him for the first time. “About seeing your family, I mean?”
Right. Nico completely forgot about that part.
“A little,” Nico admits. “My father, mostly. Others I can handle.”
“I am sure you’ll do great.”
Nico flashes a grin, even though Will can’t see it. “That’s why I am taking you with me.”
*
Love, Bianca
*
Once Nico is on the road, with the suit in the backseat of his car and dress shoes thrown behind the passenger’s seat, the world blurs into smudges of green and gray.
He wonders if Will is also in his car. If he listens to music once his hands are on the wheel, or does he sing out loud the parts that he particularly likes? He probably buys vinegar chips at the gas stop and washes them away with grape juice, even though he hates it. Just because it reminds him of his sister.
Nico doesn’t know for sure if any of those things actually happened. But, just like with Neptune and the line of overcomplicated mathematical calculations that brought it into existence, he brings Will into his orbit of existence, too.