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Published:
2023-03-25
Words:
2,051
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
12
Kudos:
271
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I Got a Bad Case of Loving You

Summary:

It's baby's first au! Written for the prompt "kink in neck"

___

Dr. Apollo leans slightly forward as he’s preparing to stand, taking a deep inhale.

“Mmm. Has anyone ever told you that your hair smells of petrichor? It’s enchanting.”

Nico blinks.

“Dad!” a voice squeaks in horror.

“What? What did I do?”

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“I’m telling you Nico, you’ve got to go see my back guy! He’s dirt cheap.”

Nico makes a face. “I don’t know, Leo. Isn’t it like… healthcare? It seems like ‘dirt cheap’ shouldn’t be a selling point for healthcare.”

“Look.” Leo bounces onto the couch beside his roommate and Nico winces, lifting a hand to his sore neck. “You’ve been in pain for a week. What are your other options?”

“This guy is a chiropractor?” Nico asks reluctantly.

Leo looks unsure. “I mean yeah, basically.”

“Basically?”

“Whatever.” Leo throws up his hands. “He’s never steered me wrong. He fixed me up after I fell off Jason’s balcony.”

Nico looks at him in horror. “You fell two stories. Shouldn’t you have gone to a hospital?”

“This guy is cheaper,” Leo says, as if this is all the explanation that is necessary.

Nico blinks. Leo hasn’t stopped bouncing on the couch and it hurts.

“Okay, fine. I’ll think about it, okay?” Nico gingerly lifts his arm to look at his watch. “Don’t you have to go to class?”

Leo’s expression abruptly turns to one of horror. “Fuck.”

Moments later he’s out the door and Nico walks stiffly to the hall closet, wondering if they own a heating pad.
___

A few days later, still unable to properly lift his arm or turn his head to the left, Nico is ready to admit defeat and ask Leo for Dr. Apollo’s number. Leo seems unreasonably thrilled. “You’ll be thanking me, just wait!” he crows. Nico makes a face, but calls the number anyway.

The place is just down the block from their apartment, so that’s a plus. The appearance of the office, on the other hand, is… not reassuring. The tiny, dimly-lit reception area is cluttered with salt lamps and crystals and various knick-knacks. The front room is deserted when Nico arrives, and he sits down hesitantly on a wicker chair, glancing anxiously towards a beaded curtain separating the waiting area from the rest of the clinic. The room smells like a tarot card reading place Piper once made him go to with her.

Nico half-considers turning and walking right back out the door, but he’s living on the last vestiges of his student loans and he’s tired of not being able to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Besides, Leo’s been to see this dude before, and he’s still standing.

“Mr. di Angelo?” comes a melodious voice from behind the beaded curtain, and Nico jumps.

“I’m Dr. Apollo, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the man says smoothly, pushing the beads aside and crossing the small waiting room. He holds out his hand and Nico cautiously shakes it. Dr. Apollo is… a bit blinding. His teeth are positively gleaming, his shirt unbuttoned just a little too far to be considered professional. He has a deep, almost bronze tan and bleached blonde hair.

But Nico rises and follows the man into a back room that’s decorated much like the waiting room, candles flickering on every surface, incense smoke curling towards the ceiling.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Nico tells him, but has the distinct impression that Dr. Apollo is only half-listening, waiting for his next chance to speak.

He’s not entirely wrong. Once Nico is situated on the exam table, the - doctor? - Nico honestly isn’t positive - makes a show of turning on soft music and lighting several more candles, all the while speaking in a soothing tone. But whatever tranquil effect might have been achieved is mostly ruined by the way Dr. Apollo spends the entire (blessedly short) appointment dropping names of supposed celebrities he's treated, none of whom Nico’s ever heard of.

Despite his manner, though, and the seemingly unnecessary flourishes of his hands as he works, Dr. Apollo does seem to know what he’s doing, and Nico’s neck feels better almost immediately. So he supposes it’s worth all the weirdness.

“Aha!” Dr. Apollo announces, teeth gleaming, as Nico’s neck makes a muted popping sound. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Um, yeah,” Nico agrees, carefully tilting his head. “That does feel a lot better.”

“Every single time! Tell your friends!” Dr. Apollo beams. Then, “William!” he calls in a carrying voice, turning to the side, “I’m ready for you!”

Dr. Apollo leans slightly forward as he’s preparing to stand, taking a deep inhale.

“Mmm. Has anyone ever told you that your hair smells of petrichor? It’s enchanting.”

Nico blinks.

“Dad!” a voice squeaks in horror.

“What? What did I do?”

“Dad you can’t just - excuse us for just a moment, Mr di Angelo,” says the other voice. Positioned as he is, Nico can’t see the other speaker. The door closes softly and Nico can hear a whispered, heated conversation in the hallway. He only catches bits and pieces of it, but he’s pretty sure he hears can’t just go around smelling people’s hair, grossly unethical and completely inappropriate.

A moment later the door opens again. “I’m so, so sorry about him,” says a young man’s voice. “Obviously I need to have another chat with him about his people skills.”

This voice is softer than Dr. Apollo’s, harassed-sounding at the moment, but sunny and gentle, and Nico turns his head to see a boy about his age, freckled with tousled blonde hair, his face flushed red.

“It’s - it’s okay,” Nico reassures him.

“It’s really not,” the boy says, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath. “One of these days someone’s going to sue him, or call the cops or -” he shakes his head. “Anyway. I’m supposed to put some heat on your neck before you’re done. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Nico watches the boy as he moves across the small exam room to a stainless steel cabinet, removing a heat pack and wrapping it expertly in a towel. Knowing that he’s related to Dr. Apollo, Nico can see the resemblance. The boy is like a diluted version of his father, but in the best possible way, his manner mild and unobtrusive, his sandy blonde hair curling softly at the back of his neck. When he turns back to Nico, his smile is like warm light on a soft spring evening. Enchanting Nico thinks, then internally scolds himself. Talk about being completely inappropriate.

The boy approaches the table with the heat pack. “If you can just lift your head a bit, I can put this under your neck.”

Nico does, definitely not making a note of how soft the boy’s fingers are when they accidentally brush his cheek, nor how good he smells.

“Again, I’m so sorry about my dad,” the boy says.

“It’s fine,” Nico shrugs. “The price is right.”

“Yeah, I know,” the boy grimaces. “We moved here from Greece when I was a kid. He was a chiropractor over there, but he never got re-certified in the US. Maybe because of his appalling bedside manner,” he finishes in a loud voice directed towards the hallway.

A door slams in the distance. The boy shakes his head. He turns to set a timer.

The heat on Nico’s neck is actually really nice. Especially now that he’s abruptly free of the pain that’s been trailing him around for almost two weeks. Nico finds his eyes drifting closed.

“Um - Mr. di Angelo?” Nico blinks his eyes open. The boy is standing next to the exam table, closer than Nico expected.

“Oh, it’s - it’s Nico.” Nico holds out his hand.

The boy gives him that soft smile again and god, maybe it's because of the comforting heat on his tired neck or the incense in the air, but Nico's stomach does a pleasant little flip.

“Will,” the boy says, shaking Nico’s hand.

“Will… Apollo?”

“Oh. No.” The boy’s face goes a bit pink. “Will Solace.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

They gaze at each other for a moment during which Nico is quite sure that Will Solace’s face goes even pinker. Then he abruptly turns his gaze to his feet.

“Um. You’ve got about ten minutes left,” he glances at the timer. “I’m just going to sit over there and… avoid my dad for a few minutes. Please just rest - feel free to ignore me.” And Will turns to sit at the small desk in the corner, reaching for a textbook.

Ignoring this boy is pretty much the last thing on Nico’s mind, though.

“You’re not a chiropractor?” Nico asks after a moment.

The boy turns in his chair, open textbook on his lap. “God, no. I’m pre-med. My dad was short-staffed today and he talked me into helping out.”

“He’s… interesting,” Nico says.

Will snorts. “Yeah, that’s one word for it. I um… I didn’t grow up with him around. We’re not really close… I don’t know. We have kind of a weird relationship.”

Nico nods. “I can relate. My stepmom is okay, but my dad… well. That’s not a ten-minute conversation.”

Will smiles, setting his book on the desk behind him and closing it.

“Are you a student too?”

“Yeah. Forensic pathology.”

Will’s eyes light up, which isn’t the reaction Nico’s accustomed to when he talks about his choice of career.

“That’s so cool!” Will exclaims. “I thought about forensic pathology too. I’m still not sure about my major, to be honest. I bet we’ve taken some of the same classes, though!”

After that, the conversation flows easily, and the ten minutes pass by far too quickly.

“How are you feeling?” Will asks as Nico pushes himself up. He turns his head experimentally.

“Really good, actually. I guess your dad knows his stuff,” Nico says.

“Lucky for him.” Will rolls his eyes.

Nico hops down from the table, and maybe he’d gotten a little too comfortable there, because his vision goes dark for a second as his feet hit the floor, and he stumbles.

“Whoa there,” Will says, grabbing his arm, and when Nico’s vision does clear, it’s to the sight of wide, blue, blue eyes searching his face. It doesn’t particularly help the dizziness.

“Are you okay? You look a little stunned.” Will says, his brow furrowed.

“Yeah, just…” Nico shakes his head. “Um. Orthostatic… um…”

“Hypotension?” Will grins.

“Yeah, that,” Nico breathes. And somehow Will’s hand is still on his arm, and the candlelight is turning his hair the most gorgeous shade of gold, and Nico can’t look away from those blue, blue eyes, and -

The door suddenly swings open and the two jump apart.

“Mr. di Angelo!” Dr. Apollo exclaims. “How’s the neck?”

“Yeah - um. Good,” Nico stammers, attempting to regain the powers of speech.

“Wonderful!”

Will trails behind them as Dr. Apollo leads Nico back to the front desk.

Nico pays for his treatment, stealing another glance at Dr. Apollo’s beautiful assistant out of the corner of his eye. Dr. Apollo gives Nico his receipt and several of his business cards. Then -

“Oh!” the older man exclaims, glancing at Nico’s file. “You live right down the street! My son’s band is playing at the cafe next door tomorrow night!” He grabs Will around the shoulders and pulls him in. “You should come!”

Will looks mortified. “Dad, please don’t. I’m sure Nico has better things to do on a Friday night.”

But Nico’s heart gives a little leap. “No, actually that - that sounds great,” he says, and he’s pretty sure Will looks pleased. He can probably convince Leo to come along so he doesn’t have to sit there feeling completely awkward on his own.

“Wonderful!” Dr. Apollo exclaims. And then he’s immediately distracted by another patient coming in through the door. There’s barely enough room for the four of them in the waiting room, so Nico makes a hasty exit. He’s standing in front of the little shop tucking his receipt into his backpack when the door opens behind him.

“Hey,” Will says shyly. “I um - I just wanted to apologize for my dad again, and - here.” He hands Nico a photocopied green flier. “That’s for the show tomorrow,” he explains. “You totally don’t have to come, but -”

“No,” Nico shakes his head. “I’ll be there.”

Will’s flushes. “Okay. Cool. Then I’ll - I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Nico grins.

And as Nico watches Will retreat back into the shop, he thinks he might just have more than one thing to thank Leo for.

Notes:

Look, I don't think Will's even getting paid for this gig, so let's pretend it's ethically sound for him to flirt with his father's clients a little.