Chapter Text
In the first few seconds after realising he was developing sides, Nico was more confused than anything.
How could sides just….appear? How could his brain cope making whole new beings while it was already so busy trying to adjust to his new crazy life?
That’s when the exasperation and panic began. How could his brain cope making whole new beings while it was already so busy trying to adjust to his new crazy life? It’s like he really couldn’t catch a break!
After a night of venting and hugs and support from his boyfriend (at least the sides seemed to understand that he’d be too overwhelmed to have them crowded around him right now), the feelings of anxiety and resentment and absolutely done with this bull-frog had shifted to excitement.
This didn’t have to be a bad thing – in fact it wasn’t a bad thing! Just look how much Nico had learnt to love all of Thomas’ sides, flaws and all! The idea of having his own sides was…terrifying; he couldn’t deny that, but wouldn’t having his own sides be a good thing for him? He just had to think of it as…as a new adventure – a journey of self-discovery with a slightly mind-blowing life-changing element! Besides Nico knew how much having the sides had helped his boyfriend’s mental health; they had helped Thomas discover more things about himself as well as learn to accept them.
So sure, this was scary, but Nico also looked forward to learning more about himself!!
A week later Nico was fed up.
After that first flash of a side, the poet had expected…something to happen. Not much (he’d pretty much mastered the art of patience with the whole Thomas-ghosts-misunderstanding), maybe just another glimpse of that yellow bow-tie, or a quip thrown into a conversation from an outside source. Hell, every time he had an internal conflict over anything as small as what fillings to put in his sandwich, he mentally prepared to analyse whatever his inner monologue said!
Instead he’d woken up every day with a headache and no sign of sides forming past the throb he felt in his skull each time he focused on his inner arguments (then again, that could just be caused by overanalysing every thought that appeared to him). He and Thomas had officially finished unpacking Nico’s stuff into the house a few days ago, and he was currently sitting on the sofa trying to work on a song. Emphasis on the ‘trying’.
Man, these headaches put the ones he’d felt when first seeing Thomas’ sides to shame.
But he really needed to get back to work cause, you know, the world doesn’t just stop when you have metaphysical representations of your personality forming in your head.
After deleting the exact same line again for the ninth time the writer groaned, bringing a hand up to massage his temples (again). How could it be so hard to write a song when so much had happened to him in the last few months?
‘Maybe because I can’t exactly write about seeing imaginary people?’
‘I very well can! Having sides is an incredibly rare and extraordinary experience, I’m sure people would be very interested in learning about it through song!’
‘No, People would think we’re-‘
Ouch. There he goes again, analysing the thoughts. There was definitely something more to those inner conflicts, but Nico was beginning to wonder if keeping an eye out for these moments was worth it when each time he became self-aware the conversation cut off and he was left with his head throbbing. The writer took off his glasses to press against his eyes as they attempted to pulsate out of their sockets, and as the moment of absolute ouch passed he became vaguely aware of pale skin in his peripherals.
Way too much pale skin.
Great, seems Remus had decided to pay him a visit.
“O Nico, Nico, why art thou pants still on Nico?” the side wailed dramatically, sliding over the side of the sofa. Ah… well at least he wasn’t naked this time?
“Hey Remus,” Nico sighed, putting his glasses back on and staring determinedly ahead of him at the (annoyingly empty) word document. He did a fantastic job at ignoring the green sequined bikini his boyfriend’s lookalike was sprawled in. Absolutely. Fantastic.
The Duke began worming his way across the sofa towards where Nico sat, “Improved Shakespeare aside, are you busy? Cause I have a truly titillating idea for you and Thomas to try out tonight! Which do you prefer: canned peaches or seaweed? You know what both’ll work out fine! Now just to convince Thomathy that streaking is a perfectly valid form of exercise that- “
“Please can we do this later?” a shadow of guilt passed through the poet’s body as the side’s voice died down, but he really wasn’t feeling up for dealing with Remus’…shenanigans today.
However that moment quickly passed as a large weight collided with his ribs, forcing a startled yelp out his mouth as he scrambled to keep a grip on his laptop and get the grown man in a bikini off his waist.
The royal side didn’t budge despite his struggles, merely cackling. “You’re acting like someone shoved Dee’s cane up the wrong hole!” he proclaimed through his maniacal laughter, “No nicknames, no blushing, you haven’t even commented on my ensemble!” a small shimmy accompanied the last statement (albeit an awkward one with the side still clinging to him), “So who are you and what’ve you done with the star of Thomas’ wet dreams!”
Nico gave in, shutting his laptop (the end of another greatly productive day for the great Nico Flores!) and placing it down before it could get broken. “No evil clone or alien replacement here, I’m afraid,” he sighed, accepting his new prison of a (slightly smelly) hug-tackle; “I just…I didn’t expect forming sides to hurt so much…or at all really.”
The songwriter wheezed as the weight around his middle suddenly pushed off, the Duke landing on his feet next to Nico. The side began squinting down at him from where he now stood, hand stroking his chin in a mockery of deep thinking (unless this was how Remus thought deeply? Nico could and would never be sure), and possibly the longest silence Nico had ever experienced around the Duke began.
After a whole record-breaking five seconds of quiet Remus spoke up, “I don’t think Thomas felt any pain when we formed. Bit annoying, I would’ve liked my birth to be accompanied with labour pains! I can’t really talk for the others though, as I was made in…different circumstances.” his brow furrowed for a moment, but just as Nico was about to ask if something was wrong his expression lightened up again; “But what do I know? I’m just an octopus with a morningstar!” he swiped his hand upwards and was (thankfully) back in his regular attire, mentioned weapon hanging from his shoulder.
“You’re forming a nerdy side, right?”
The poet wasn’t quite sure where this was going (then again when was anything predictable with Remus?),“Yeah? Well, at least that’s the one I’ve heard before.”
“So maybe you should talk to the robo-geek? I mean if anyone’ll know what’s knocking around in your head it’ll be him, right?” Remus stated, as if it was the simplest conclusion to reach in the world.
…Which maybe it was, and Nico had just been an idiot.
A small smile found its way onto his face, “That’s… a genuinely decent idea…”
The smile grew as a matching, albeit demented, one appeared on the side, “Well duh, one half of creativity needed the braincells, I just got greedy stole the Disney simp’s as well!”
Nico decided to let the Roman-slander go this time and instead huffed out a small laugh. “Thanks Dukey,” he sighed. And he really felt like he meant it; Remus had genuinely been a real help to him, and something about that made little bubbles of happiness rise up inside him.
The side seemed to sense this, his gaze softening for a moment, “No problem, you are my soft spot after all,” Nico couldn’t help but blink in surprise when a finger made contact with his nose, roughly booped him, “Kinda ironic considering how hard you-“
Aaaand the moment was gone. “Thanks Dukey.” He interrupted, teeth clenched for emphasis. The overgrown trash-panda sprung over the sofa towards the exit cackling madly.
Nico heaved himself off the sofa not too long after. He had his own mission now after all.
First step: Talk to Thomas.