Chapter Text
Will is not the best at organization, he’ll admit. He loses things often and forgets where he put them seconds after he puts them down. It’s terrible for a doctor, but he hopes he has another twelve years to figure that out. Cabin seven almost always looks like a whirlwind ran through it. But he’s learned to live with it. Instead of being intimidated by the pool of pencils and pens spilled on the floor by one of the desks, he instead picks up his favorite one (the blue erasable) and starts his math homework. It’s all about efficiency.
After so long at Camp Half Blood, Will had become immune to mess. It was an adaptation. But it had blinded him, because he never noticed the terrible organization of medicines and care supplies and stim toys in the cabinet until it crashed inside. Sure, he used the cabinet everyday, but only to grab and toss things in. A dozen other campers used it everyday, too.
But he was the one who had to clean it up.
While the rest of camp was at lunch, Will was mopping up rubbing alcohol alone in the infirmary. He didn’t mind being alone. But he did mind how his siblings ditched him with the work. Chiron would pass by in an hour, so he needed it done before then, but there was still a sea of clutter in front of him. This would not be done any time soon.
The door chime rang. Will closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. It amazes him sometimes how willing certain demigods are to get injured. There goes cleaning this up in time. But he gets up and grabs the check-in board for patients anyway. Because that’s what healers do.
Nico is standing by the door holding two wrapped sandwiches. His hair is pulled back, which means he had just come back from sword-fighting practice. His appearance stops Will by the wall, his mouth hanging open in the middle of saying hello.
“I brought you lunch,” Nico says, holding up the sandwiches. He stares at Will in concern, something new he didn’t have a second ago. “What… happened?”
Will remembers to close his mouth. His tongue is dry. “What do you mean?”
Nico glances away, looks at the sandwich in hand. “You’re purple.”
Will looks down and- ah, there it is. His jeans are now violet. He allows himself to groan. “Unicorn drought. Stains like wine.”
“I can see…”
Something about Nico has always made Will ramble. Maybe it was his silence, how nonchalant he was. Or maybe it’s Will being so afraid of messing up around him. “There was a spill. I opened the cabinet today and everything under the sun came tumbling out and I’m the one left to clean it up.” He pulled on his jeans- they’re practically tie-dyed now. And Nico di Angelo, dressed perfect in black, is six feet away.
Nico tosses him a sandwich and walks straight past. Turkey and avocado, his favorite. “I’ll help.”
“You don’t have to.”
“You shouldn’t do it by yourself,” he explained. Will followed him to the closest thing the infirmary had to an office. They had a desk, but you wouldn’t know it by the piles of paper covering every inch. A mini-fridge with a decades old microwave on top stood in the corner. And, of course, the cabinet, with doors swung open and contents pouring out like guts.
“Oh,” Nico finally said. “That’s bad.”
“I know.” Nico put the second sandwich on the desk and knelt down, picking up random things on the floor. Will sighed.
“Thank you.”
“Where are the others?”
“Beats me.” Will shook his head as he wrapped his hand in kitchen roll to mop up more liquid- whatever kind it was. “Be careful, there might be broken glass.”
Nico examined the cabinet itself. Even before it fell apart it was a mess. Nothing was organized. There were spills and stains and the top shelf, which held batteries and such, had a thin film of dust. “We should just clean it out. The whole thing.”
“Oh, definitely. I don’t think it has ever had a proper clean.” Nico wrinkled his nose at that, which made Will smile. Instead of letting Nico know that, he wrapped up some more kitchen roll he didn’t need. “You can start with clearing everything out.” Nico nodded and began working silently. Will kept his eyes to himself.
That’s something he has been doing alot lately. Minding his gaze. Not in any sexual way- no, that makes him nauseous. It’s just that Will has a bad habit of staring. Because with Nico, there’s always more to see. Like yesterday, when he discovered that Nico’s hair is more of a dark purple than black like previously thought. Not stark, but enough to see in the sunlight and when he’s wearing it down (which, thankfully, is ninety five percent of the time). Or last week, when Will spent most of the head counselor meeting watching the way he reacts to everything said. For such a reserved person, he can be very expressive. You just need to know where to look. He reacts to everything in some way. If he knew how Will was watching him, the reaction would probably be bad. So Will minds his eyes. His siblings usually notice and call him out for it, but he’s getting better. He’ll just pine silently.
Will finally mops up all the liquid in the far corner of the room. He sits on his heels, observing the mess around him, and feels the weight start to sink in. This will definitely take some time. Half of the cabinet is on the floor, and Nico is still cleaning out the top shelf. He sighs and takes out his phone from his back pocket. “I’m playing music,” he says. “Which playlist should I play?”
Nico shrugs. He’s reaching inside the cabinet with a wipe so it’s hard to hear his voice. “What do you have?”
Will scrolls through, watching everything pass by on his Spotify list. He has a lot of playlists, most of which weren’t made by him. “I have a lot of things. There’s one that's just ABBA, one Kayla made me-”
“Not that one, then.”
Will chuckles. “Fine. Oh, okay, I made this one last week I think represents rain.”
Nico pulls himself out of the cabinet to stare at him. Will notices that he has taken down his hair. “Rain.”
“The music sounds like a rainy day. It has that feel.”
“...White noise?” Will shakes his head.
“No, it’s like calm indie music. It’s supposed to sound like how you feel after a rainy day.”
Nico shrugs and returns to the cabinet. “Must be an Apollo thing.”
“You’re useless.”
“I’m not the one prescribing weather to music.” Will snorts at that. Nico pokes his head out to raise an eyebrow at him, and he sticks his tongue out in retaliation. Nico rolls his eyes.
“Play that eighties playlist you like,” he says, tossing his wipe in the trash.
“I’ve been playing it too much lately. It’s becoming bland. I need something fresh.”
“ Nine ties.”
“Nico, name one popular nineties song.” Nico pauses. He rolls his eyes and acts exasperated, but Will knows him long enough to know it's all a facade. Will tosses the kitchen roll to speed him up. It hits his stomach, and he swats it away. “That’s okay,” Will says. “That means I can introduce you to the Red Hot Chili Peppers.” Nico shrugs and pulls out more wipes from the carton.
“Thanks, Will. I’m sure that’ll change my life.” He drops down to wipe the bottom shelves. Will shakes his head and plays the music on his phone.
Nico crosses his legs as he cleans. There’s a bit of unicorn drought on his cheek. He doesn’t notice at all, just keeps moving. It’s a dark purple and stands out against his skin. It draws attention to his eyes because they’re so dark in comparison. If Nico just turned his head, Will would be able to see his eyes better.
Will realizes what he’s doing. He’s staring again. He bites his lip to ground himself and grabs the big pieces of a broken jar (made of plastic, thank goodness). He can feel his ears turning red, but maybe if he focuses on sweeping this up it’ll go away. At least Nico isn’t paying attention.
He stands with the pieces and makes his way towards the trash can at the other end of the room. Nico looks up. Ah, there they are. His eyes. Will turns away. He’s focused. He has a mission.
Something about Nico always made him nervous. Even before the titan war, he would have to prepare a script in his head to talk to him. He’s better now, but he’s often caught off guard.
Will keeps his eyes focused on the pieces of the jar in his hand. As he walks, his foot slips on a puddle of who knows what and he tips sideways. Abandoning the plastic pieces, he pushes his arms out only to slide further in the mess he had missed when mopping up. His body smacks the tiled floor like a slap bracelet, leaving Will lying half a foot away from Nico di Angelo.
If that isn’t caught off guard, he doesn’t know what is.
Nico is staring at him like he just popped out of the floor. His jaw hangs open as he takes in all of Will, and he feels himself start to disintegrate inside. Nico squints at him as he presses his lips together before dropping his face into his hand.
“Are you okay?” he finally asks after looking up. Now Will can finally see those eyes clearly. They’re desperately trying to remain serious.
Will groans for a second time that day and runs his hands over his face and through his fair. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He grabs fists of his hair and stares at the ceiling and wonders why Nico di Angelo of all people had to watch him come crashing down like a Jenga tower.
Nico slaps his hand over his mouth. His eyes are crinkling, but his hand is covering the rest. When Will notices, he quickly turns away. “Oh gods,” he murmurs. “Will, the- damn. The unicorn drought.”
Will pulls his hands away to see violet dripping from them. It must be all over his face and hair by now. It’s probably glittering. By how tightly Nico is pressing his lips, Will must look ridiculous. Nico reaches over to grab the kitchen roll and rips of a piece with too much focus. When he makes eye contact with Will, he quickly turns away and puts it on his chest.
“Here,” he says. He takes a deep, shaky breath and tries to look at Will again. “Are you okay?”
It’s at this moment Will realizes how much of a little shit Nico is.
Lying down on the infirmary floor, staring at Nico from below (how is he still pretty…), Will realizes his hand is still wet. In a last minute action of shame, he slaps it onto Nico’s arm, making him purple too.
“Hey!” he cries. “I’m trying to help you.”
“Great help you are, laughing at me,” Will says, rubbing his hands down Nico’s arm, leaving stains of purple. He slaps his hand on the floor to get more unicorn drought.
“I’m not laughing at you,” Nico lies. He hits Will over the head with the kitchen roll. Will pulls himself up to raise an eyebrow at him. He only turns away quickly to hide. “Di immortales- you got it on your eyebrow-”
Will rushes to wipe it away, only making things worse. “Oh, just laugh already. I know you want to. I crashed on top of you and landed in a puddle of unicorn drought and now I’m purple. It’s funny.”
Nico takes a sharp breath. “Are you hurt?” He holds his chin in his hand in a slick attempt to hide the smile Will knows is there. At this moment, Will realizes he rarely ever sees Nico smile. He knows he does- he isn’t a robot- but only ever in microseconds. He’ll turn his head when someone makes a joke, and cover up his face whenever he can help it. It makes Will confused.
Will wants to see him laugh.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Will finally says as he wipes his arms.
“Good.” Nico rips off another piece of paper towel and throws it in his lap. “Clean yourself up.” He turns back to wipe the already shining shelf.
“C’mon, don’t be like that.”
“No.”
“Nico, I’m purple. You can laugh at me.” Nico doesn’t reply, but Will can see his shoulders tense. “C’mon, death boy.” He leans forward tauntingly. “I won’t tell anyone that I saw the Ghost King smile.”
Nico turns around and crosses his arms to find himself two inches away from Will’s smirk. His face is masterfully blank, which Will must give him some credit for. But it cracks after three seconds, causing him to bring up his hand again.
“Oh, come on,” Will sighs.
“What?” Nico looks up at him. Will realizes he said that out loud. He’s approaching dangerous territory and he knows it, but he’s in too deep. He’s caught off guard. Will throws his eyes to a spot on the wall above them.
“Don’t hide it,” he says simply. Less tauntingly. Just when Will thinks he’s lost it, Nico looks up at him.
“It’s in your hair…” Nico uses his hands to pat the kitchen towel on Will’s head, leaving his face exposed. “It’s everywhere, how did you do this…”
“I pull at my hair when stressed.”
Nico drops the kitchen roll to throw his hands in the air. Will watches just close enough to see him finally break. A smile cracks through just before Nico drops his head to his chest and it’s hidden. He’s definitely smiling- and when the rest of Will’s senses catch up with him, he can hear his laugh, too.
It’s light. Lighter than you’d expect from the Ghost King. But it still smacks Will like a truck. There’s a little hiccup in it, and everytime he does Nico makes another attempt to hide by turning his gaze. Will doesn’t know if he’s breathing anymore.
“What are you smiling at,” Nico asks between breaths. Will is snapped out of his trance and his organs begin functioning again. He realizes there’s a sappy, surprised smile on his face. It’s probably purple, too. Nico rubs a hand over his face again. “I know it’s weird…” he mumbles.
“What?” Will says. If anything, the way he is acting is weird, not Nico. At all. It’s a little insulting, actually.
“C’mon,” Nico said under his breath. “You’re staring.”
Will’s breath catches. His smile is replaced by confusion. Nico shrugs.
Will finally realizes what Nico is trying to say, “Oh… no. Dear goodness, no, Nico…” He rolls his eyes at him, only invigorating Will more. “You’re not weird, that's not why I’m staring, it’s because your gorgeous-”
Nico snaps up. His eyes latch onto Will’s. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to.
All the blood in his body rushes to Wills face. He’s mortified. He can’t believe he just said that out loud. Every muscle in his body wants to run, but he’s planted here on the infirmary floor. It’s a trainwreck he can’t walk away from, even if it means he’ll burn in the fire.
“What?” Nico finally whispers.
Will finds it in himself to break eye contact. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.” He stands up, relieved to make it out of the situation. He takes off his hoodie only for something to do with his hands. Maybe he should just leave. Walk out of the infirmary. He can say he’s getting more kitchen towel from his cabin and just never return. Maybe he can walk into the sunset and hitch a ride with his dad. Or he could volunteer for a research experiment and vanish to Massachusetts for a month or two. Would that be long enough for Nico to forget that Will thinks he’s gorgeous? (Well, more than gorgeous. He’ll have that image of Nico laughing stuck in his mind for weeks on replay. He won’t be able to focus on the medical research. The doctors will ship him back and he’ll have to explain to Nico. Who is probably straight, who knows?)
When he finally pulls it over his head, he finds Nico standing in front of him. His face is set with determination. “You can’t do that.”
Here it comes. Will braces himself for whatever Nico is going to throw at him. But Nico wouldn’t be offended, would he? Will likes to think he knows Nico better than that. But it doesn’t sooth the knot in his stomach growing to the rest of his body, and it doesn’t relax Nico’s stare.
“Can’t do what?” Will asks. He holds his hoodie crossed to his chest.
“You can’t just call me- you can’t just say that and pretend it didn’t happen.” His expression breaks a little as he resorts to hand gestures to communicate. He’s nervous, Will realizes. He must think Will was joking. That calms him down a little. That makes it easier to say what he needs to say.
Will takes a deep breath that fills his lungs. He has never been in serious battle before, never for longer than an hour, but enough experience in healing soldiers has taught him how to get to the point.
“I don’t regret it.”
“What does that mean?”
Will tilts his head, trying to play cool. (He doesn’t think it’s working.) “I think you’re gorgeous.” Pause. “Because I like you, Nico.”
Saying that felt like launching a slingshot and watching it fly away. Immediately, Will is filled with something he didn’t think he’d experience: relief. No matter what Nico says, at least he won’t have to keep hiding it anymore. It is awfully hard for a son of the Greek god of truth to keep a secret like that. Maybe he won’t have to run away after all.
Nico is gaping like a fish. It’s not an expression Will thought he’d ever see on him, but it’s cute nonetheless. (He feels less guilt saying that now.) “I like you, too…” he says in one breath. Immediately afterwards he starts fiddling with his skull ring.
Now it’s Will’s turn to gape. “Really?”
Nico shrugs. A timid smile returns. “Maybe.”
“You ass,” Will laughs.
“Shut it.” He’s laughing again, which means he’s also trying to hide it. Will pushes his hand down and pulls him into a hug instead. He wishes it was a kiss, but maybe that's too soon.
“So… we like each other.”
“I guess so.”
Nico pulls away. “Is there something we should... “
The door chime rings. Both of them jump away. They hear the familiar sound of hooves coming into the infirmary.
“Chiron,” Will breaths. “Quick, pretend you’re cleaning.” Nico drops down, mindlessly putting things back in the cabinet. Will grabs his phone to turn off the music.
“Hey, Will?” Will halts himself from running out of the office. “That was… good music.”
A smile grows on Will’s face, taking the whole thing over. “Thanks.” He winks. “Red Hot Chili Peppers. Remember that.”
Nico rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” He’s smiling. It’s nice.
“Will?” Chiron calls again.
“Coming!” he calls out. “Hey, death boy-” Will hurriedly throws his hoodie back on as he talks. “Chiron’s going to need me to help him out with something for the rest of the day. But after dinner- me, you, meet back here.”
“Why?”
Will pulls his head out and winks at him. “You’ll see.”
“I take it back. I hate you.” Will blows him a kiss that Nico pretends to swat away. He runs out too quickly to see Nico hide his blush.