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In retrospect, Nico should have probably realized getting drunk on New Year's Eve with a group of intoxicated friends was not a good idea; but when you have a can of fizzy beer in your hand, exhibiting self-control is not the simplest course of action one can take.
So naturally he came to regret the verbal products created by alcohol - especially around company.
Nico takes another long swig from the bottle of wine perched on the ledge beside him, trying to drink away his shame and fear. It was January 1st and Nico knew for sure that his year was gonna be sucktastic.
Last night his secret had come out, in the most horrible way possible. Now the Seven knew about his sexual orientation, and by the nature of such matters, he could easily foretell that soon everyone would know. In sheer terror, he'd sprinted into the shadows, trying desperately to shake off his shame.
His secret had come out in front of Percy anyway, the sole person he hated the most, so his life was basically ruined.
In present time, an ironically peaceful snowstorm sweeps inland ominously, chilling the air, and snowflakes drift down to greet Nico's bare skin. It isn't a completely unexpected storm; it is, undeniably, the beginning of a freezing and eventful winter in the suburbs of New York.
Nico, now regretting the fact that he left his aviator jacket inside, slowly stretches, takes another long drought, then swings his legs from their precarious position on the wrong side of the balcony back onto the firm concrete of its right side.
He blinks, breaths in the pure taste of fresh snow, glances back into the ominous night, before abruptly walking through the open glass door that separated the terrace from the interior of his apartment.
He shuts the glass partition and doesn't look back.
His apartment is a square, cozy space, despite the dark theme. It was open concept, three-and-a-half rooms: living room/kitchen, bedroom, bathroom. His walls are painted a deep brown, and there are faded posters strewn across them, like an utterly mismatched mosaic. His furniture is as haphazardly offbeat as his walls; a cobalt armchair, a faded black daybed, a mahogany coffee table, and an old-fashioned TV made up his living room. A minimalist, black desk was shoved in the corner, with an emphasis on 'minimalist': the desk was barely used except to keep his laptop because he does all of his college work on the kitchen counter.
Once settled, he pulls out his speakers and laptop, connected by a firm wire, and flips through his playlists. He finally settles on a mixed playlist - bouncy yet melancholy at the same time - and Coldplay infuses itself into the very air. Nico walks into the kitchen humming the opening bars of "Every Teardrop is a Waterfall".
There, Nico sets to work cooking and baking and forgetting; briskly chopping onions and tomatoes, and setting the chicken to a low simmer on the stove. He takes swigs of wine as he wrenches open his cupboards and pulls out different herbs, sniffing them and putting the ones he didn't need back in the cupboard.
Nico tries to forget, forget, forget Percy, and soon the scent of chicken and pasta and sauce fills the air, reminding him of a time before Percy. He whisks the chunky brownie batter lovingly, until it's so smooth he can almost see his reflection on it, before pouring it into a tray and sliding it into the oven.
Nico exhales, having achieved the satisfaction and detachment from reality that only comes from doing something he loves. He leans back on the black kitchen counter, relaxed and maybe even feeling - gods forbid, he doesn't feel it much - happiness.
Soon, the timer's annoying alarm goes off, and Nico, wine bottle still in hand, pulls out a tray of warm chocolate brownies and places them on a place mat to cool. He unconsciously sets the table: place mats on both ends, each carrying a wine glass, plate, fork and knife, and a napkin. The main course of chicken and pasta steals the center spot, and places the brownies and wine to either side of the dish. Ultimately, the table was set elegantly; had it not been for the shoddy china and the shoddy table itself, it would have looked seignorial.
Unfortunately, Nico realizes belatedly that he set the table for two, and a bitter scowl appears on his face. Grumbling curses, he heads to the bathroom to wash his hands and face.
After washing, he returns to the kitchen to, like any normal person, grab the salt and pepper shakers.
'Thump! Thump, thump!'
Nico almost drops his shakers.
'Thump!'
Nico then glances at the balcony door and proceeds to actually drop the shackers.
Because, of course, standing there nonchalantly was none other than blonde-as-can-possibly-be Jason Grace.
In the past seven years, Nico had tentatively befriended Jason, reluctantly submitted to his constant care (however much Nico tried to run from it the first five years, he soon realized he could not escape) but Jason suddenly showing up on his balcony was at a different level altogether and certainly a little more than surprising.
Nico scrambles to snatch up the salt and pepper shakers - which aren't smashed, thank the Gods - and heads to the door, where the aforementioned son of Jupiter stood, waving carelessly but is, on the inside, slightly miffed at Nico's admittedly sluggish speed.
Nico yanks open the partition. "Why are you here?" He demands unceremoniously, skipping over the formalities.
Jason's eyes are concerned, but he smiles in that benevolent way which not many people can smile, and enters Nico's apartment. "I missed you too, Nico," he replies, content that Nico hasn't pushed him out to into the night yet.
Nico expression softens slightly. "Why now? Why can't you leave me alone?" He questions, despite the fact that he knows why; Jason's nature forbids him from leaving Nico alone.
Jason's smile slides from his face and worry lines crinkle around his eyes. "Nico, you know that you can't deal with it all alone." He looks down as he murmurs quietly, "We accept you. Not just me. Everyone."
Nico frowns at this and asks, "How'd you get here?"
Jason grins. "Flew."
"Figures."
Jason sighs, relieved, before moving back to his original topic. "But seriously, Nico, there's no need to run. Don't hide."
Nico shoves his hand into Jason's face; Jason could be so insufferable at times, with his constant attention. "I don't wanna talk about it." Nico glances back wistfully at his dining table.
Jason follows his gaze. "Are those brownies?"
"Stay for dinner," Nico blatantly proposes on a whim, completely disregarding Jason's question.
"Sure," Jason shrugs. "But are those brownies?"
Nico sighs, exasperated. "Yes."
///?///
Jason feasts ravenously, appreciating Nico's cooking. The chicken is particularly flavorful and complements the buttery pasta well, and Jason is starving from flying three miles.
He knows it was stupid, but taking a car in this weather? Nope, not going to happen. (Although, admittedly, flying might have been just as ridiculous.) That and he needed to be here for Nico and more.
Jason watches Nico, who is metaphorically picking at his food and preferring, instead, to watch Jason gorge on his dish with a certain smug satisfaction.
Jason's mouth quirks upward. "Any plans this winter?"
"None at all," Nico deadpans. "Just me, myself and a possible visit to China or the Underworld."
"How are China and the Underworld even related?"
"Beijing is as overpopulated as the Fields of Asphodel."
Jason nods, and takes a sip of wine from his cup. "What kind of wine is this?" He inquires. "It's strong."
"Red."
Jason eyes him sardonically, and sarcasm oozes from words. "I certainly couldn't see that."
"No, seriously. This is third-rate red wine, mixed with additional alcohol to make it stronger and not-weak." Nico condemns the wine viciously. "In other words, it's complete crap."
"Then why are you drinking it?"
Nico glares at Jason. "I'm a college student, what do you expect? Cases of first-class Italian Amarone?"
"What is that even?"
Nico shakes his head. "Completely besides the point; I'm cheap, the wine's cheap. The only reason I'm drinking is for the alcohol. Got that?"
Jason hums affirmatively and his eyes drift towards the ceiling. "What's Italian Amarone?" He questions again.
"You don't know?" Nico says, incredulous. "You really don't know?"
"No, I don't."
Nico huffs. "You're impossible. Denser than Percy."
Jason nods, "Yeah, that's an insult. But you should know that I don't really get drunk that often."
"But you were drunk yesterday."
Jason shakes his head. "No, I was just feeling amiable. And talkative."
"But it seemed so unusual..."
"But I wasn't drunk," Jason denies persistently.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
Nico abruptly stands up, knocking down his chair in the process, and stomps over to Jason. Jason watches as Nico pours him another cup of red wine. "Drink," Nico growls.
Jason glances at him, eyebrows furrowing together. "Okay. But why?"
"I want to see you drunk," with an almost mischievous smirk is all he receives from Nico. Other than the crap alcohol, of course.
"And why exactly do you want to see me drunk?" Jason inquires, just the slightest bit afraid.
"You said you weren't drunk yesterday. I want to test your claim," Nico responds, smoother than ice.
"Fine," Jason states competitively.
Nico replies a curt "fine," just as fiercely, as he whips his head away and picks up his seat.
"Fine," Jason croaks belatedly, after the moment has passed.
///?///
Jason laughs heartily, while absentmindedly fiddling with a kitchen cabinet door.
"... and the cat fell straight off the roof, into the pink lady's lap! And then she shrieked her lungs out into the dog lady's ear, and she screamed and it all became a huge ruckus and Frank and I were watching and we should've had popcorn, it was that comical!"
Jason's laughter slowly dies, and he is able to acquire enough breath to choke out, "Wait, Frank was there?"
"Yeah, I was visiting him and Hazel. His old neighbors were crazy!"
Jason holds up his hand in the universal 'stop!' symbol. "So you were visiting your sister this entire time?"
"Yup."
"Dude, was that entire ordeal really that unexpected if you were visiting two demigods?"
"No." Nico shudders. "But it was traumatizing."
Jason waves his arms around. "How exactly? That was hilarious."
"I caught them making out."
"Oh."
Nico gives a small smile. "I'm gonna have a brother-in-law soon."
"Really?" Jason's eyes widen to the size of quarters. "They already proposed?"
"Nah, but it's obviously gonna happen sometime soon. They were all lovey-dovey, kissy-wissy, and going-hardcore spontaneously last time. And then they had a couples' squabble right before I left. It's like... true love."
Jason sighs dreamily, in the way that certain teenage girls occasionally do when they see particularly attractive people. "I wish I had some of that stuff."
"But I thought you had Piper?"
Jason continues on, ignoring Nico. "I've heard it's like taking a sip of heaven-"
"Isn't heaven all white? Isn't that torture?" Nico rambles shamelessly, too drunk to care.
Jason glares pointedly at Nico for a second, and then his gaze softens. "I don't know anymore, Nico."
"Know what?" Nico asks, drawn.
Jason glances around nervously, very much like those aforementioned teenage girls standing in front of the person they liked. Finally he steps closer to Nico, who is already pretty close, sitting on the kitchen counter. They are close, breathing the same air.
Nico searches Jason's eyes for any indication of his intent, before Jason's lips are thrust upon his.
It's completely unexpected, and Nico forgets to breathe for a second, but when he finally remembers, Jason's scent floods him. Despite the initial moment, Nico finds himself kissing back against his will. He moans quietly, and he can feel Jason's fingers running through his tangled hair. Nico reciprocates, tugging at Jason's waves, and for a second there is only him; but soon, like all moments, it draws to an end.
Jason is the first to withdraw, and his expression just screams 'oh, shit!' as reality slaps him in the face. He backpedals, bumping into the counter behind him. His face, flushed just a second ago, is pale with the realization of what just occurred. His hands shake as he walks to the terrace door. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he stutters as he throws his jacket on.
Nico is left on the counter, hands grasping at the air, his face shaded bright red. Disbelief paints his features, and he gets of the counter and fumbles after Jason. "Wait!"
Jason, putting on his gloves, proceeds to stop mid-glove.
"What was that?" Nico exclaims, lacking finesse.
Jason gulps, and his eyes flicker to Nico's face fearfully. "I-I'm sorr-"
Nico glares at him, suddenly lucid and loud. "Quit your apologizing and answer me, Jason! Why'd you kiss me?"
Jason's face is hopeless, and his hands gesture wildly through the air.
"Don't you have Piper?"
Jason cringes, "No."
Nico opens his mouth to say something before he registers Jason's reply, then pauses. "What?" He squawks.
Jason shakes his head. "We broke it off privately last night. Between both of us, we realized something wasn't clicking."
Nico's voice raises to a squeal. "What? But you've been dating for eight years!"
"Yeah, but something wasn't right. We've both felt a sense of ... asynchronization in the past few years, and to be honest, we might have been a bit late in ending it," Jason explains sheepishly. "Besides, it was a smooth breakup and we're still friends and it's all well. We're both over it; she even made a move on Reyna earlier today."
Nico's eyes are wide at the incredible news, and a wave of silence washes over the two. Finally, Nico pierces it. "So you kissed me?"
"I like you, Nico. It took a while to realize it, but I did." Jason inhales and exhales in a cloudy puff of breath. He murmurs faintly, "I guess Piper and I just weren't meant for each other."
Nico blinks. "So you kissed me?" He repeats.
"Yes, Nico," Jason says, slightly flustered. "I kissed you because I really like you."
"Really?" Nico's voice raises in pitch tremendously with an almost undetectable emotion. Nico does not wait for a response.
It is only in the last second before the kiss, that Jason pinpoints the emotion: hope.
The kiss itself is passionate, and soft, and soon Jason's fingers are lost in Nico's messy hair. Nico cups Jason's face between his palms and for a few long moments, time is still.
Finally, Nico breaks away. "I like you too, Jason."
Jason's mouth is slightly agape, his face flushed and pleasantly surprised. A vague smile envelopes his features and he ruffles Nico's hair. "Now what about those brownies?"
Nico snaps into attention. "Oh, I'll cut them!" He exclaims as he grabs the brownie tray from the dining table, imagining the feeling of brownie-flavored lips against his.