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“Will.”
Will looks over at Nico across the bed they’re both currently occupying in the Apollo cabin, eyes slightly droopy from exhaustion. He hums in acknowledgement, and his heart flips over.
“I’m sorry,” Nico starts, in that sad, quiet voice he gets sometimes when he sinks into himself. When he thinks about Bianca or his mother. Will hates seeing him in pain, hates that he can’t shield Nico from that tidal wave of emotions that wrecks his self-worth like a mud hut in a hurricane.
“What for,” Will replies simply, instead of telling him all of those things, and phrasing it like a throwaway comment than a burning question. He hates that he can’t even pretend to himself that it’s a casual ‘thing’, but is instead this complex, ten headed, beast of a romantic interest.
Romantic interest may be understating it. Just a tad.
“I’m sorry for being this huge burden on you,” Nico says. Sucks a shaky breath in before continuing, “I struggle with this stuff. PTS is hard, and I know everyone gets it here from fighting in the war, but when they treat me like I’m crazy for showing my symptoms I-“ at this Nico pauses, like he’s getting used to the taste of a particularly sour lemon. “I kind of realise how I shouldn’t be pushing all of this on you. You have your own stuff to do, and your infirmary to manage, and I’m- I’m sorry for. Well. Being like this.” It’s just like Nico to get into a monologue of honesty and pull himself straight back out of it when he realises what the hell he’s saying.
But Will can understand that. Being the head medic has meant he has his own form of PTS, with memories that haunt him day and night. It feels as if, sometimes, there will always be the blood of those he couldn’t save on his shaking hands. It scares Will (internally, of course) to think that Nico’s PTS is approximately ten million times more severe. He just wants to stop Nico’s brain from attacking in the same way he might staunch the blood flow of a patient in the infirmary. Knowing he can’t just makes it harder, but even more worth loving liking him.
The truly terrifying thought of love at the ripe old age of sixteen snaps Will out of his thoughts, realising guiltily that he’s left Nico hanging on for a reply. “Uh- sorry,” he says quickly, collecting himself. It falls apart when the two make eye contact and Will’s heart has that funny feeling again. But that doesn’t matter, Will thinks to himself.
“I know how it feels to think you’re a burden for having personal problems,” Will continues delicately, trying his best not to scare Nico off by being too intense. “PTS is hard, I can agree with that, but.” He stops, lost for words temporarily as a random image of him leaning down to meet Nico’s lips on the bed they’re lying in pops into his head. Will’s damn lucky it’s only kissing. He’s in deep.
“But?” Nico coaxes, looking anxious.
“Sorry, yeah. I keep losing my train of thought, sorry-“
“It’s okay.” Nico’s interruption is surprisingly soft, and he flashes Will the briefest, smallest- and most beautiful, his head interrupts- smile to encourage him to keep talking.
“But you’re not a burden, not at all, and we almost all suffer from it at camp but that doesn’t mean that you can’t feel it. If you don’t let yourself feel it and acknowledge it then you’re going to spiral. And…” at this, Will pauses, trying to think of a way to put it that doesn’t sound rude. “I don’t want to have to treat the implications of that in the infirmary. I’m not sure I could.”
A silence falls on them both, pressing and miserable and painful.
It’s Nico who speaks first.
“What do you mean?” he asks quietly, voice so small Will can barely hear him.
Will’s brain jumps into hyperspeed, going haywire to figure out a way to respond that wasn’t- well- gay. He can’t do this. I can’t do this, he thinks.
“I care about you too much,” he blurts out, and internally, he groans and sarcastically applauds himself. He thinks to himself, well, it was a good run, and I had fun while it lasted. I guess I can throw myself into a volcano or something.
Nico just looks surprised, simply replying, “oh,” with that same quiet, sad voice. But he gives Will a small, bashful smile, and just like that, Will wants to kiss him really badly, his face flushing a soft pink colour.
“Wait, I- I care about you too. Just so you know,” Nico says suddenly, eyes widening in embarrassment of forgetting to clarify. Will grins at him softly, glad to hear the sentiment returned so readily. At least I didn’t totally ruin everything in my life, he supposes to himself.
Nico still looks tired, he notices absently. He pushes that thought aside. Nico’s eyes reflect the sunlight in a really nice way, but he pushes that thought aside too. The two make eye contact, and both blush simultaneously, but Nico’s eyes somewhat unwillingly drag down to Will’s lips before hastily making their way back up, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows nervously. He pushes that thought aside as well but quickly wrestles it back. Hang on a moment. He knows that glance. Oh god, is he reading too deeply into this? Is that some sort of custom from Italy in the ‘30s? That’s dumb, they were all homophobes. He likes you back, you stupid boy! Will just loves when his own thoughts spell out what’s quite honestly obvious to him. But he’s getting off track. Nico likes him back, he’s 90% sure.
Slowly, Will attempts to mirror Nico’s actions. And probably looks like an utter ass doing it. But he lets his eyes move down olive skin, looking at Nico’s lips- blushing progressively more severely at the scenarios flashing through his head at the speed of light- before staring back into Nico’s eyes.
Nico’s skin tone is rapidly changing to match Will’s blush.
I’m going to kiss him, Will thinks, absently. The words have no consequence in his head. I could screw up this whole friendship by kissing him. He finds that in this moment, he doesn’t particularly care.
Will is so close to Nico that he can feel his warm breath fanning against his lips. If he had a more coherent thinking pattern right now, he would register what Nico’s breath smells like, but currently, his brain is making a weird noise that’s somewhere just between a scream and a content hum.
He hears Nico’s breath hitch, and watches his eyes flutter shut. His eyelashes are long enough to touch the skin under his eyes.
And just like that, Will softly presses his lips to Nico’s, hand coming up to caress his cheekbone. His eyes drift shut, and he can feel Nico’s anxieties about everything- being a burden, not mattering enough, even not deserving a place at camp- get thrown to the very back of his mind.
Will’s hand moves slowly up to card through Nico’s soft black hair, and Nico pulls back just slightly, taking a quiet but shuddering breath, but then presses more insistently against Will’s lips. A nervous hand snakes down and curls around Will’s waist, moving himself closer just slightly. Awkwardly, given their angle, Will moves his own hand down to Nico’s waist and pulls him the rest of the way until they’re pressed flush together. Taking advantage of the small gasp that leaves Nico’s mouth, Will gently bites his lip. At the small noise Nico makes at that, Will pulls away just slightly, taking a moment to breathe, and asks, “wait, is this okay?”
Nico pulls away completely, looking at him witheringly. Will just stares back. “If it wasn’t okay I would’ve summoned a zombie army or something.”
“Or something,” Will replies absentmindedly, already leaning back in to recapture Nico’s lips. They shift around slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position. It takes a few moments but somehow Nico ends up straddling Will, both of them blushing furiously but continuing to kiss despite it all. Both of Will’s arms are now entangled in Nico’s hair, but neither notice, both of them only paying attention to each other.
His lips are so soft, Will thinks lazily. But as he goes to pull away to start kissing at Nico’s neck, a loud bang sounds outside. Both of them jump violently, causing them somehow to headbutt each other. Their noses knock and in the commotion Will bites his own lip, drawing a bead of blood. He hisses at the sudden pain, and Nico leans in to press a small kiss to his forehead before slowly, awkwardly climbing off of Will’s lap.
They sit there on Will’s bed together, both of them breathing heavily, blushes on their respective faces. “So, uh…” Will starts awkwardly, not knowing what to do with himself.
“Don’t overthink it,” Nico mumbles abruptly, glancing at Will and then staring resolutely at his feet.
“Kinda hard not to.” Will’s reply sounds blunt, and he winces at the unintentional heat that has entered his voice. “Sorry, that sounded bad. Just- I’ve wanted to do this for the longest time, and I didn’t want to mess it up with my dumb feelings, you know? I was scared I was gonna put a burden on you-“
“Sounds familiar,” Nico interjects, face otherwise serious.
“Funny,” Will replies. “But I’m being serious.”
They make eye contact, and silence falls upon them both.
“Will?” Nico asks, staring at his lips again.
Will hums in acknowledgement, and suddenly Nico’s lips are on his once more.
Nico tastes of caramel, Will thinks.