Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s a slow morning.

Most mornings are in Will’s life. He’s used to it. The slow drag of the bus ride, of the sound of traffic, other students’ voices, of lockers and sneakers squeaking on the floor. Of waiting for the bus to arrive, for the bus to get to school, waiting to get off the bus, waiting for people to move out of the way, waiting for the bell to ring, for class to start. Waiting. And waiting.

He hates school. It’s boring. And draining. He has friends, which is nice, but they’re not in any of his classes, and he only sees them in the hall and during lunch. And before the bell rings in the morning. Like now.

“William?”

“Jesus,” Will startles, swinging his locker door shut a little to see Vincent on the other side. Vincent’s grinning, leaning against the locker next to Will’s, his backpack hanging off his shoulder. “Morning.”

“How you feel?” Vincent asks, still smiling brightly, casually, but Will knows the question is earnest, just like it is every time he asks, every morning.

“Tired,” Will sighs, finally finding a notebook in the mess of his locker.

“Of?”

Will makes a noise, shrugging as he reaches down to put the notebook in his bag.

“Stayed up late doing that assignment for history.”

“What period do you have that, again?”

“Third. How do you not know my schedule?”

“I barely know my own, babe.”

Will snorts, leaning back to close his locker, wincing as the metal creaks, and he bends back down to zip his bag.

“Any news?” he asks lightly, ignoring the bustle of students passing them, laughing and jeering and bickering with energy that no one should have before ten in the morning.

“Uh.” Vincent sighs, looking up as he thinks. “Dahlia’s in morning detention.”

“What did she do now?”

“Vandalism or something. Anyway, she said there’s two new kids.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhmm. Boy and girl. Boy’s a weird guy, apparently.”

“Ah,” Will says, raising his eyebrows and smiling when Vincent grins knowingly.

“Just your type.”

“Well, I’ll let you know if I see him around.”

Vincent smacks a loud kiss to Will’s cheek when they part, despite the fact that several people this year and last year have thought that they’re dating. Vincent doesn’t care.

—————

Will has to wait again for his teacher to start talking. It takes longer than usual, but he doesn’t mind. He just lowers his head to his desk and sighs, closing his eyes, wishing he could fall asleep for a little while. It’s impossible to fall asleep here, though, with the ruckus of the other students laughing and throwing paper and pencils at each other.

He only lifts his head when the teacher yells Quiet! loudly, pushing his hair out of his face and squinting across the room. Katz is standing by his desk, but the room is too bright and there are still kids standing and moving, and Will can’t see who’s next to him.

“Settle down,” Katz calls, his voice still loud. “Sit.”

He leans against his desk as the kids find their seats, and Will leans back in his seat, taking his headphones off his neck and dropping them on top of his backpack.

When it’s quiet, Will looks up again. Katz has his arms crossed, looking around the room, and there’s a boy next to him.

A very… very pretty boy.

He’s got messy, almost-curly hair that reaches his shoulders and hides his face until he pushes it out of the way with ring-clad fingers. His eyes are dark, shining as they scan the room, and framed by smudged eyeliner. (Will lifts a hand and bites his thumbnail.) His jacket is worn black denim with rips that match the rips in his jeans and the tears in his stained Converse. He’s got an oversized, unzipped hoodie under the jacket, partially hiding the faded Slipknot shirt he’s wearing.

Will’s eyes trace the pins and patches that are decorating his jacket as Katz greets the class with a cheerful Good morning! that contrasts from the boy’s expression, brows furrowed, eyes squinting in the bright sun that’s bathing him in light. Will briefly thinks he looks angelic, and then he wants to smash his head onto his desk, because goddammit, Vincent was right. This kid’s exactly his type.

Not that anyone would be able to tell, what with Will’s blond hair compared to the boy’s dark hair, what with the directed by Wes Anderson across his chest compared to Slipknot.

“Everyone, meet…” Katz pauses and leans toward the boy, saying something quietly. The boy looks at him, mumbling something back before Katz continues. “Meet Nico di Angelo. He just moved here all the way from sunny California—”

“Yeah, you spend a lot of time in the sun, Nico?” someone quips, referring to Nico’s pale skin. Nico’s eyes cut over to him, blank and unblinking, and Will almost laughs when the kid shrinks back in his seat.

“Braden, be quiet,” Katz says, already sounding tired. “Nico, you wanna tell us about yourself?”

Nico shakes his head, eyes still trained on Braden, and Katz pauses.

“Oh. Okay. Uh, then you can take a seat, uhm…” He looks around the room, at the few empty seats, and Will’s stomach flips when his eyes land on the seat next to him. “Will, raise your hand.”

He does, pausing in biting his nail.

“Nico, you can sit next to Will. That work?”

Nico’s eyes cut to Will, and Will waves awkwardly, willing his face not to flush with heat. Nico’s gaze is intense.

Nico nods.

It’s quiet as he heads to the desk next to Will’s, and then the other students talk again, their voices hushed. When Will glances up at Nico, he can tell Nico knows they’re talking about him.

His brows are still furrowed, and he glares around the room as he sits heavily, dropping his backpack on the ground next to himself. His bag falls against Will’s, and Will looks down at the black fabric next to Will’s cheerful yellow.

“Hi,” Will forces out. Their desks are close enough that he can talk quietly, privately. Nico hesitates and looks at him, dark eyes flickering over Will almost nervously. He doesn’t say anything. “Uhm.”

Will shifts, moving a little closer.

“If you… need any help catching up, I take really good notes.”

Nico stares, nodding minutely.

“I’m Will,” Will says, then, “You already knew that. Sorry.”

Nico’s eyes flick over him one more time, lingering at the words on his shirt, and then he looks away, facing forward. Will pauses, about to shift back away, but then Nico’s hushed voice says, “I’m Nico.”

Will smiles.

Nico is quiet throughout the rest of class, watching Katz go back and forth around the classroom, fidgeting with one of his heavy rings, scuffing the ground with the toe of his shoe. When the bell rings and Katz dismisses them, Will packs his notebooks lazily, tossing his pencils into his bag without looking, and Nico hesitates, picking up his bag and standing between their desks before Will looks up at him.

Their eyes meet, and Nico’s lips part as he stammers silently for a moment before he looks at the ground and says in his small, quiet voice, “Bye.”

He’s headed to the door before Will can say anything, and Will watches as one of his hands lifts to rub the back of his neck. Will’s cheeks flush with heat, and he smiles.

—————

“So d’you see the new kid?” Vincent asks before Will is even sitting down at their lunch table. Dahlia is grinning around her straw, sipping her chocolate milk.

“I did,” Will says lightly. “He sits next to me in history.”

They both stare as he lifts his legs up onto his seat and pulls his foil-wrapped sandwich out of his bag.

“Oh my god,” Vincent says slowly, eyes widening.

“Huh.”

“You already have a crush on him,” Dahlia says, tilting her head. “God, you are pathetic.”

“Look.” His face burns, but he’s grinning as he leans over the table. “He’s really pretty.”

“He— He looks like he works at a gas station,” Dahlia says, and Will reaches across the table to smack her shoulder.

“He’s dreamy.”

“Have you even talked with him?” Vincent questions, his voice muffled by his food.

“…Yeah.” Will looks away, at his sandwich, and he can practically feel them staring him down.

“I heard he’s mute,” Dahlia says.

“He’s not mute, he’s just, like… Really quiet.”

“What did he say to you?”

“We, uhm. Introduced ourselves. And he said bye before he left without any prompting.”

“Ah, romance,” Dahlia says, swooning, and Will rolls his eyes at her.

“He’s kinda scary,” Vincent says, tilting his head and looking past Will, who turns to follow his gaze to find Nico across the room. He’s talking to a girl, hands in the pocket of his jacket, and he looks familiar with her, comfortable as he talks quietly.

She’s smiling at him fondly, looking up at him as they talk, and Will watches for a moment. Her skin is dark, especially next to Nico’s pale skin that almost glows, and there are clips of butterflies in her curly hair.

She looks like she’s asking him something, and he nods, raising his eyebrows. She’s smiling. Then she beckons with a wave of her hand, and Nico rolls his eyes before leaning down for her to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“That’s his sister,” Dahlia says quickly. “She’s the other new kid.”

“Oh,” Will says, his stomach flipping in relief. “Okay.”

The girl pats Nico’s face and steps past him, toward a table full of people that Nico eyes warily before he heads toward an empty table, pulling headphones out of his open bag and putting them on.

“You’re into mysterious guys, aren’t you?” Dahlia says, and Will turns to roll his eyes at her, blushing.

“I guess.”

“Is he mysterious?” Vincent asks. “I haven’t heard anything about him.”

“People are already spreading shit about him,” Dahlia says.

“What kind of shit?” Will asks quietly, fidgeting with his sandwich.

She hesitates.

“Classic Satanic panic shit,” she says sullenly. “I’m pretty sure no one’s taking it seriously, but…”

Will glances back at Nico, looking at the way he’s biting his nail, looking at a book in front of him. He looks like he’s shrunk into himself, hiding from the rest of the room. Will hesitates for a second before he drops his sandwich and gets up.

He sits next to Nico heavily, far away enough that he’s not in his personal space, and Nico looks up at him, glaring for a moment before his expression softens, eyes wide as he pulls his headphones to hang around his neck. Will can hear the music he’s listening to, heavy and loud.

“Hi,” Will says.

“…Hi.”

“Wanted to ask if you wanna sit with my friends and me,” Will says quietly, crossing his arms on the table and leaning over them before he gestures to Vicent and Dahlia with his lips. “Those two. The girl that looks like a cartoon character and the guy that’s in pajamas.”

Nico follows the gesture, looking at Vincent and Dahlia, who are talking to each other, probably making fun of Will, but Will knows they’ll act normal if Nico follows him back. Nico stares at them, lips twisting thoughtfully.

“You don’t have to,” Will adds gently, seeing his hesitation. “If you don’t want to.”

Nico looks at him again. His eyes are wide, shining and intense, and his eyelashes flutter as he blinks before speaking.

“…Maybe another time.”

“Cool,” Will says with a nod, smiling softly even though Nico is expressionless. “I’ll see you later.”

Nico nods.

“He said maybe another time,” Will says when he sits back down with Vincent and Dahlia.

“You are… a hopeless romantic,” Dahlia says, shaking her head, smiling.

“And I’m shameless.”

Will doesn’t see Nico until the next day, as he’s walking with Vincent to a class they have together. He spots him in the crowded hallway, looking down at his phone and biting his nail, and Will forgets to listen to whatever Vincent is saying as Nico lifts his head and looks around, eyes shining anxiously. Their eyes meet, and Nico’s eyebrows jump as his hand falls from his mouth. He beckons to Will with a tiny, shy wave, and Will smiles, stomach flipping, as he elbows Vincent and swerves around the students to get to Nico.

“Hey,” he says lightly.

“Hi,” Nico says, his voice small in the clammer of the hallway. “Uhm, can you— can you help me?”

“Yeah, ‘course, what’s up?”

Nico holds his phone up, moving to stand next to Will, and Will leans down, tilting his head to look. It’s Nico’s class schedule, and Nico points at his first period.

“Do you know where this is?”

Will looks, murmuring the teacher’s name to himself before he winces.

“Uh, no, but…” He looks up, finds Vincent across the hall, waiting, and he calls his name, beckoning.

“This is my friend Vincent,” Will introduces quickly, and Nico nods. “Vince, do you know where Moncada’s room is?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s…” Vincent pauses, looking up as he thinks. “In the main building, you take the first staircase, then go right, and she’s the… second room to the left.” He looks at Nico, who’s staring at him intently, listening.

“Okay,” Nico says after a moment, and Will thinks he’s repeating it in his head. He takes a breath.

“She’s really chill,” Vincent says, reassuring him. “I was late to her class like every day last year and she never cared.”

Nico just nods, still looking at him before he takes another breath and says, “Thank you.”

He looks at Will before he goes, and Will and Vincent watch him go, weaving around the other students.

“Very intense eye contact,” Vincent comments when he’s gone.

“Right?”

“But very much your type, good God.”

Will pretends to swoon, giggling as Vincent pokes him in the side.

—————

Will says hi to Nico in the hallways when they pass each other. Nico just looks at him with those eyes. He says hi back in class, when he gets to his desk and Will is already there, when Will greets him brightly. His voice is always soft, shy and tentative, but it becomes Will’s favourite part of his day.

They don't talk in class, but it’s still nice somehow with him, sitting in the back of the classroom in silence, listening to the scuffing of Nico’s shoes on the ground as he swings his leg, fidgeting. Nico catches up with the class quickly as Katz moves on to the next unit in the textbook during Nico’s second week. He takes notes about as intently as Will does, but during the first mid-unit test, Will glances over and Nico is biting his thumbnail, fidgeting with his pencil, and Will can practically feel the anxiety radiating off of him.

Will shifts to look at his test, and he’s still only on the third question, reading and rereading it, his knee bouncing anxiously.

Will looks down at his own desk. The answer is C. He remembers writing the answer in his notes in blue ink.

He pauses, glancing up at Katz’s desk. Katz is looking down, grading worksheets, and a few students are chatting quietly, already done with their tests. Will looks back down, reaching into his bag and carefully ripping a small piece of paper out of a notebook.

He doesn’t cheat. He never cheats. He can’t. He dreads the very idea of it on his permanent record, especially because he wants to go to medical school, and even as a kid he couldn’t stand the idea of it. But…

His handwriting is tiny on the ripped piece of paper as he writes the answers down, and when he finishes he folds it carefully before he twists around, pretending to stretch his back. He slides the paper onto Nico’s desk as he does, slipping it under his test.

Nico pauses, looking, and he looks at Will as he Will faces forward again. Will winks.

Nico takes the piece of paper, opening it, and his eyes widen a little bit. The corner of his mouth twitches.

Katz moves on to the next chapter in the unit when everyone finishes, and Will pulls his notebook out to take notes. Nico is still holding the cheat sheet in his hand, tucked in his palm, hidden by his fingers, and Will wonders what he’s going to do with it. Nico leans over his desk during the lesson, over the notebook he takes notes in.

When the bell rings, Will leans down to slide his notebook into his bag, and in his peripheral, Nico stands and moves between their desks, tossing a piece of paper onto Will’s before he leaves quickly. Will pauses, straightening his notebook out, assuming it’s the cheat sheet. Nico doesn’t want to get caught with it. Fair enough. Will will take it home and shove it in some drawer to be forgotten about.

But when he lifts his head, he catches sight of the paper, and it’s different. A little bigger. Folded carefully and neatly, even with a ripped edge.

Will glances at the door even though Nico’s already gone, and he opens it, his eyes widening, cheeks flushing.

It’s a messy sketch. Of Will. The side of his face, specifically, his hair tucked behind his ear, earring shining, expression soft as he looks down. He looks… pretty. Pretty in a way he definitely doesn’t feel, in a way he’s never felt.

Above Will’s head it says thank you in a rough, almost cursive handwriting.

Will’s stomach is doing somersaults, bursting with swarms of butterflies, and he stares. The pencil is dark, scratchy and scribbly in Will’s hair, soft and smooth on his cheeks and in his eyelashes, careful and intentional in the spots of Will’s freckles. He barely recognizes himself.

Is this how Nico sees him? This… soft? This lovely?

“Will.”

Will startles, looking up, and the classroom is empty, and Katz is looking at him curiously, his head tilted. Will’s face flushes with heat.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” He quickly refolds the drawing and puts it in his pocket as he leaves. It burns a hole in his pocket all day. He gazes at it when he gets home.

Will doesn’t say anything about the drawing. To anyone. Nico hid it from view until he gave it to Will, and every time they make eye contact, he just looks. No implication of the drawing, or of the fact that he sees Will like Will is beautiful.

He wants to ask about it. To ask if that’s really how Nico sees him, to ask how much Nico had to look at him while drawing it. But he doesn’t.

He keeps to their routine, soft his followed by soft silence. Fleeting eyes contact in the hallways, in the cafeteria.

And then Katz makes the class pair up to work on something, and before Will can even look toward Nico, Nico’s already moving toward him, his chair scraping over the floor. Will grins when Nico glances up at him nervously.

Their knees touch under Will’s desk as Will turns to face him. Will’s got butterflies. The butterflies get worse when Nico leans closer, his voice soft and quiet as he talks, and Will could listen to him talk forever, even if it’s just about the Industrial Age. Will points at a line in the textbook, and he feels almost sick when Nico reaches out to his hand, moving his finger across the page himself. His hand is cold.

They talk more. Still quiet. Still hiding from the rest of the class, the rest of the world, and Will doesn’t really know what’s happening. But whatever it is… it’s nice. Hushed and soft between them, patient and kind. Will has perpetual butterflies. Especially when Nico does things like leaning over and drawing a tiny smiley face on the corner of Will’s notebook page.

—————

The hall to the counsellor’s office is always eerily quiet, the ground squeaking under Will’s shoes and echoing. It’s dim, the overhead lights off, but the counsellor’s lights light up the end of the hall, glowing golden. The door is shut today, the glow sneaking out around the doorframe, and Will looks at the chairs next to the door. He pauses.

“Hi.”

Nico looks up, his face softening when he sees Will.

“Hi.”

Will sits in the chair next to him, looking down the desolate hallway. Nico’s knee is bouncing.

“You okay?”

“Uhm.” Nico takes a shaky breath. He’s fidgeting with one of his rings, and Will kind of wants to take his hand. “I got caught with painkillers.” He pauses. “That— That sounds like I was dealing them, I just— I have chronic pain from a— a car accident, and I take painkillers every three hours during flare ups, and I was taking one in class, but…” He pauses for a breath, and Will stares. He’s never heard him talk this much all at once. “I’ve been homeschooled my whole life and I didn’t know we aren’t allowed to have painkillers, and they’re… They're talking about it. I don’t…”

He looks at Will nervously, fingers twisting.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Will says gently. “You didn’t know. And you have a good reason to have them.” Nico looks at him intently, listening. “The counsellor is nice. The worst they’ll give you is maybe detention.”

Nico nods, exhaling a quiet, “Okay.”

“And, uhm.” Will hesitates, glancing at the door. “In the future. If you need a painkiller, you can… let me know.” Nico looks at him curiously. “My friend has migraines, so I keep a stash in my locker. If you need any, I can hook you up.”

Nico blinks at him owlishly, and then he nods.

He’s quiet. His knee’s stopped bouncing, but he’s still twisting his ring, breathing slowly.

“Why are you so nice to me?” he asks abruptly.

Will blinks, looking at him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Nico shrugs weakly, looking down at his ring. Will gazes at his face. At the bridge of his nose that’s spotted with faint freckles. At the curve of his lips, and the fan of his eyelashes, and the way his hair is falling.

“Everyone else thinks I’m weird,” Nico mumbles.

Will nods, pausing before he leans closer.

“I like weird,” he whispers.

Nico looks at him, eyes shining, and then he looks away, his lips curving into a small, bashful smile, and Will could explode.

“Why are you here?” Nico asks after a moment, twisting his rings.

“Uh, I’m… depressed,” Will says, rubbing his leg, looking at his hand. His purple nail polish is chipped. “I meet the counsellor every other week so she can make sure I’m not planning on killing myself. …Not that I’d tell her if I was.”

“Are you?” Nico asks quietly.

“No.”

Nico nods.

“That’s good.”

They’re quiet again, sitting side by side until the door opens.

“Nico— Oh, Will!” The counsellor smiles at him apologetically. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“No, it’s fine,” he says, smiling.

She beckons to Nico, who looks at Will nervously as he stands. Will gives him an encouraging nod.

It’s quiet while he waits, their voices muffled in the office, and Will pulls his phone out, scrolling through the groupchat with Vincent and Dahlia, shaking his head at their banter.

He lowers his phone when the door opens again, looking up to find Nico following the principal out. Nico looks at him wide-eyed, and Will raises his eyebrows, smiling when Nico nods.

“Will,” the counsellor says brightly. He tears his gaze away from Nico. “Come on in.”

He exhales, standing heavily, glancing back as Nico walks away.

Chapter Text

“I have detention after school.”

Nico looks up at Will, hands in the pocket of his jacket. He leans against the lockers next to them, resting his weight on his right leg and bending his left knee.

“Just detention?” Will says, raising his eyebrows at him, sorting his textbooks in his locker. He has to look away from Nico to make sure they’re straight and to find his chemistry notebook.

“Mhmm.”

“What’d I tell you?”

He glances at Nico, tugging the notebook out from between textbooks. Nico is smiling. Will hesitates, gazing.

“Uhm… What time does detention end?”

“Four thirty, I think,” Nico says, watching Will close the locker, wincing as the metal scrapes. “Why?”

“Uh…” Will leans against his locker, looking at him. He’s shorter than Will. His eyes are wide, shining brightly, like he’s curious about Will. “An art exhibition opened in town and I… I thought maybe you’d like to go?” he asks awkwardly.

Nico stares up at him.

“An art exhibition?”

“Uh, yeah.” Will’s cheeks burn. “I thought… I mean, you— you drew that picture of me,” he says nervously, pushing his hair back and rubbing the back of his neck. “And it was— it’s really good and I thought maybe you’re just interested in art, and I thought… I don’t know. An exhibition might be fun.”

Will finally shuts up, looking at Nico nervously, and Nico looks like he’s about to smile.

“…Okay.”

Will blinks.

“Okay?”

Nico nods, unblinking

“Okay,” he says again, quiet. “Sounds fun.”

Will’s stomach flutters.

“Okay,” he says again. “Cool. I can… I’ll wait, uhm, outside. By the front steps.”

Nico nods again, a smile now teasing at his lips, like he’s amused by how nervous Will is. He startled when the bell rings loudly, glancing past Will down the hall.

“I’ll see you later,” he says softly, and Will nods. Nico’s smile spreads as he stands up straight off the lockers and steps past Will.

Will stares at the ground, cheeks still warm, smiling absently, because he’s going out with Nico, and he realises he didn’t clarify if this is a date or just hanging out as bros, but something tells Will that Nico isn’t really a bro kind of guy.

Will lets his head to his locker as he sighs heavily before he makes his way to class.

—————

It’s cold out. The sky is grey and mostly cloudy, and every so often a breeze blows through Will’s hair and makes him shiver.

But it’s worth it when Nico shows up and pokes Will’s shoulder as he sits heavily on the step next to him.

“How was detention?” Will asks.

“Boring,” Nico says, and oh. His voice is stronger, louder, and Will wonders if it’s just because they’re outside now, alone. “But I finished my homework.”

“Nice,” Will says.

“What did you do?” Nico asks, looking at him. “While you waited?”

Will kicks his backpack, pointing with his lips to the notebook sticking out the open zipper.

“Chem.”

“Gross.”

Will snickers.

“‘S not that bad,” he says, smiling when Nico gives him a look. “I’m gonna go to medical school.”

Nico stares for a moment before, “Nerd.”

A laugh bursts out of Will, and Nico looks away, grinning. His eyes squint when he smiles that wide. He’s beautiful.

“Alright, asshole,” Will says. “You ready to go?”

Nico nods, standing, pulling himself up with the handrail next to him. Will follows, stepping down the stairs slowly as Nico uses the handrail, gripping it and leaning on it every time he’s using his left leg. Will hesitates.

“Hey, are you… are you in a lot of pain today?” he asks, watching. “It’s kind of a long walk.”

“Not really,” Nico says, looking down as he descends the steps. “‘S just when I put my weight on it.”

“Do you have any kind of mobility aids?” Will asks when they reach the bottom of the steps. Nico hesitates, tilting his head as he follows him down the sidewalk.

“I have… crutches. But I don’t use them.”

“…Why…”

Nico shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“People already stare enough.”

Will glances at him. He wants to hold his hand.

“So?”

Nico glances up at him. The wind blows his hair, and his cheeks are already a little flushed from the cold.

“People are always gonna stare,” Will says lightly. “It’s what they do. You might as well just do whatever you want.” He looks at the sidewalk. “Especially if it’s something that makes your life easier. You know?”

Nico just looks up at him. Then sways against him, knocking his shoulder against Will’s arm. He doesn’t say anything.

“What kind of art do you like?” Will asks after a few moments, changing the subject.

“Uhm. I don’t know. I draw a lot, but I don’t… I don’t usually show people.” (And now Will just feels special.) “But I like looking at everything, I guess.”

“You gonna go to art school?”

Nico pauses, glancing at him and looking away. His expression steels, unreadable, and he looks around, eyes scanning the grey sky.

“I don’t… I don’t know. If I’m going to college or anything.”

“That’s okay,” Will says softly. “You’ve got time.”

Nico nods.

They talk. Nico does talk more strongly when they’re outside, his voice still smooth and soft and almost musical. He has the slightest accent when he speaks up.

When they’re almost at the exhibition, Nico starts limping a little bit. It’s not bad, and he’s not wincing or anything, just stepping in a way that keeps his weight off his leg.

Will elbows him gently, and Nico looks at him, at the elbow he’s holding out, taking in the silent offer, and after a moment, he reaches for it, holding Will’s elbow and using it to keep his weight off his leg. He’s smiling.

Will smiles and looks away, cheeks flushing, keeping his arm steady for him.

Nico keeps holding onto his arm the whole way to the exhibition, all the way up the steps to the doorway (he pulls on Will’s arm every time he uses his left leg, apologising quietly, but Will just jokingly offers to carry him, and Nico turns pink, muttering, “Shut up.”), until they get to the ticket booth.

“How much is it?” Nico asks as Will is reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“Uh, fifteen each,” Will says, and Nico reaches out to smack his wallet out of his hand. Will squawks indignantly.

“I got it,” Nico says briskly, pulling his wallet out of a pocket that’s inside his jacket, already heading toward the ticket booth as Will snatches his wallet off the ground.

“Wh— Why?”

“My dad’s rich,” Nico says nonchalantly. “Two students, please.”

The man nods and takes his card, swiping it and printing the tickets before handing them to him.

“Is he?” Will says, standing next to Nico and putting his wallet back.

“Mhmm. ‘S all he is,” he mutters.

Will follows him, raising a curious eyebrow, but he doesn’t say anything except, “I’m paying for food after this.”

“Nope.”

“Wh— This whole thing was my idea!”

“And?” Nico says sassily. Will stares, wide-eyed, as Nico gives him his ticket.

“You’re bitchy.”

Nico grins, his nose scrunching. There’s a little gap between his front teeth.

“And adorable,” Will mutters. “Jesus.”

Nico rolls his eyes and reaches for his arm again, pulling him toward the entrance.

He’s quiet as they start to wander through the exhibition, eyes wide and curious, holding onto Will’s elbow. It’s mostly paintings hung up on walls and in the short hallways between rooms, but there are a few sculptures on stands: one of a house, open and displaying a messy interior, one of a teacup full of flower petals, one of a careful human skull, the eye sockets and open mouth full of dirt and tiny sprouts. (Nico seems to really like this one.)

There’s a projection on one wall, a looped film of a person’s hands moving in the golden sunlight. The speaker in the corner is playing audio of people talking. It’s mesmerising, Will thinks as he watches their fingers dance, but then he turns his head and looks down at Nico, who’s even more mesmerising. He’s watching with wide eyes, his expression light.

There are a few window sills in one room cluttered with birds. Nico looks at all of them, almost smiling, almost tender like he’s naming each of them in his head. In the same room there are nets hanging from the ceiling. Caught in the holes are sculpted stars and plants, coated in paint that glows in the dim lighting of the room.

“You wanna sit?” Will asks when they find a bench in front of a painting. “Rest your leg?”

Nico nods, looking at the painting.

He lets go of Will’s arm when they sit, head tilting back to look at the painting. Will follows his gaze. It’s a big painting, on a tapestry across the wall, of two hands reaching for each other. On one hand, the lines of the palm are metallic, golden and soft-looking. The other hand has a hole burned in the center of its palm, the fabric of the tapestry black and draping open. It’s beautiful.

“You like it?” Will asks as Nico stretches his leg out, leaning over his lap, forearms crossed over his thighs. Nico glances at him, down at his hands in his lap.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “‘S nice.”

He moves closer, scooting across the bench until their legs are almost touching.

“I think…” Nico pauses thoughtfully, his hand brushing Will’s. Will glances down. It’s got to be intentional. “I think if I did something like this I’d accidentally burn the whole tapestry,” he says as their fingers tangle. Will’s stomach flips over. Nico’s fingers are cold, but he feels so… gentle.

“I think I’d burn my apartment down,” Will says, relishing Nico’s soft laugh as their fingers twist. Neither of them say anything, or look at their hands, or do anything that might suggest they’re fucking holding hands.

“I doubt they did this in their living space,” Nico says, amusement coloring his voice despite its softness in the echoey room. “Just from a safety standpoint.”

Will pauses.

“There are many reasons I’m not an artist,” he says slowly. Nico grins. “And one is that I forgot art studios exist.”

“Aren’t you going to be a doctor or something?”

“That’s the plan.”

Nico looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, and Will feels like he can see right into him, like he’s looking through his skin, watching his blood flow.

“Hm.” Nico looks away. His cheeks are pink. “I thought you’d be smarter.”

Will lets out an offended noise that’s too loud for the room they’re in, and Nico shushes him, squeezing his fingers and giggling almost as loudly.

“You’re such a dick,” Will says, laughing, and Nico nods, shrugging. “I’m plenty smart, I’m just not creative.”

Nico looks at him again, the same way he did on his first day, a slow up and down like he’s looking for something. Will suddenly feels self-conscious in his clothes, like his purple corduroy pants are too loud.

“You look creative,” Nico says lightly, looking away. Will pauses.

“That felt backhanded.”

Nico smiles at the tapestry, untangling their fingers and shifting his hand so he’s gripping Will’s index and middle fingers loosely. He shakes his head.

“Not backhanded,” he says softly, honestly. “You’re wearing Keith Haring on your shirt.”

Will glances down, between the lapels of his jacket, having forgotten what exactly he’s wearing. He’s still leaning over his legs. Nico can’t see his shirt from where he’s sitting, Will realizes, and he smiles.

“That’s true,” Will says. “I like queer art.”

It feels bold to say, that word. Like he’s being too straightforward with it. Like he might as well look Nico is his beautiful, beautiful eyes and say I’m into you in a gayhomosexualqueerfruity way. And it scares him a little bit. Even if Nico is holding his hand.

“You were wearing a Wes Anderson shirt when we met,” Nico says quietly. Will looks at him.

“Yeah.”

“...Feels vaguely queer.”

Will laughs softly.

He sits up after a moment, but Nico doesn’t let go of his fingers, so he lifts the arm that’s awkward between them and sets it behind Nico, leaning back to rest on it. Nico just looks at the tapestry.

Will brushes his thumb over the side of Nico’s hand gently. His skin is soft. Nico’s fingers tighten on Will’s. It kind of feels like neither of them wants to move. Will doesn’t mind.

—————

Nico holds his arm again as they go through the rest of the exhibition, and then as they leave. The sky is darker when they get out of the building, a shade of glowing blue between dark clouds that would be more magnificent if it weren’t for the light pollution. There’s a tiny fry shop close to the museum, and when Will gets his wallet out, Nico steps in front of him, swatting at his wallet.

“I said I’d pay for this,” Will argues as Nico pulls his card out. The cashier watches, amused, taking his card.

“I said I don’t care.”

“Oh my god.”

Nico is grinning when he turns around, entertained by Will’s anguish.

They sit outside. It’s cold out, still grey and windy, but the food is warm, and Nico sits close to him, their shoulders touching. Nico rocks back and forth while he eats, swaying as he watches people pass. A lot of them are carrying umbrellas.

“How close are we to your place?” Will asks when they finish, watching the way Nico wipes his face with the end of his sleeve, the way the wind is blowing his hair.

“Pretty close,” he says. “Walkable distance.”

He pulls out his phone and fidgets with it for a moment, the screen lighting up his face. The case is clear with some paper behind it. One scrap has a small sketch of an eye, but it doesn’t look like Nico drew it. The other is folded and wrinkled.

“That way,” he says, pointing to their left, his whole arm extended. Will wants to squish him.

“You want me to walk you?”

Nico lowers his phone and his arm, looking at him.

“Sure,” he says quietly. He pauses then reaches for his backpack, pulling it up off the ground and setting it on his lap, in his crossed legs, and he unzips the front pocket to rummage around in it. Will watches as realization dawns in his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just…”

He leans forward and rummages again, looking into the pocket, brows furrowed, eyes a little wide.

“My fucking keys,” Nico says. “I…”

He finally stops, deflating, huffing, looking out in front of himself, but he isn’t looking at anything in particular. He just looks anxious, lip between his teeth like he’s thinking too hard.

“Did you lose them?” Will asks.

“No, I…” Nico huffs again, jostling the pocket of his bag. “I forgot them. In my room.”

He takes a slow, shaky breath, rubbing his cheek so hard it turns pink.

“Hey,” Will says quietly, moving a little closer because he can practically feel the anxiety coming off him in waves. “Can your dad or your sister let you in?”

“Uhm.” Nico zips his bag. “My dad’s on a business trip. And Hazel’s at a sleepover.”

“Okay,” Will says, thinking. “Can you go to Hazel’s friend’s place and get Hazel’s key?”

“I could, I just… I don’t know how to get to her friend’s house, and if— if I go I’ll have to talk to her friends, I don’t…”

“Breathe,” Will says softly, and Nico inhales deeply, nodding. He starts to rock back and forth again. Will pauses, thinking for a moment. “Okay, you have two options.”

“Okay,” Nico says softly, looking at Will, eyes shining.

“One,” Will starts, turning to face him a little. “I can go with you to Hazel’s friend’s house, make sure you don’t get lost or anything. I can make conversation while you get Hazel’s key so you don’t have to talk to them.”

Nico is listening intently. He kind of looks like he might cry.

“Or two,” Will continues. “You can just stay at mine tonight.” His stomach twists with nervousness as Nico stares. “We have extra toothbrushes and stuff, and tomorrow you can meet Hazel to get her key or she can let you in or something.”

Nico stares.

“A or B?” Will asks.

“B.”

Will blinks.

“Yeah?”

Nico nods.

“Yeah.” He takes a breath. “Are we close to your place?”

“Kind of,” Will says. “We gotta go that way,” he says, pointing to their right, mimicking the way Nico pointed earlier to try to get him to relax. It works. Nico tries to suppress his smile, but his eyes still sparkle.

It starts to rain just as they get to Will’s apartment. Will helps him up the stairs slowly. His hair is speckled with rain, falling in his face as they move. Will has to suppress the urge to move it out of the way for him.

“You’re not allergic to cats, are you?” Will asks as he kicks his shoes off. Nico shakes his head as he leans down to untie his laces.

“They don’t like me very much.”

Will’s mom’s cat proves him wrong. She meows and purrs and tries to paw up his legs even though he shrinks away from her affection. Will picks her up and buries his face in her belly as Nico watches, amused. Nico only then reaches a hand out in front of her face before petting the top of her head tentatively.

“What’s her name?” Nico asks, tilting his head at her. She lifts her head up into his hand.

“Lucita,” Will says.

“Lucita,” Nico repeats softly, scratching behind her ear.

“It means ‘little light’,” Will says, seeing the way Nico eyes her black fur. “My mom likes irony.”

Nico smiles a little bit.

He looks around the apartment like he’s back at the exhibition. At the framed photos on the wall, the painting that Will’s mom bought from an artist in a market when Will was a child. At the pillows and blankets and houseplants.

Will gets him some clothes to wear. A long sleeved shirt and some sweatpants that drape off of his body when he comes out of the bathroom down the hall.

“Purple looks good on you,” Will says lightly, referring to the shirt. It’s a dark shade of purple, but it’s different from Nico's usual shades of black and grey.

Nico sticks his tongue out at him. It’s cute.

He looks around Will’s room curiously too. There are posters and photos all over his walls, pieced together with colourful tape and ribbons and bunting flags like it’s all a big collage. There’s a tapestry of the sun over the mirror that’s the door to his wardrobe, covering it, and a Puerto Rican flag on the back of his bedroom door. There isn’t much floor space around the bed, but Nico doesn’t seem uncomfortable, running his hand along the fuzzy blanket at the foot of Will’s bed.

“Creative,” Nico says quietly, eyeing the canopy over the bed. There aren’t any posts to hold it up, so Will nailed the sheer orange fabric to the ceiling, letting it drape and hang down.

Will smiles. He leans against the dresser as he watches Nico explore the room, as he looks at the books stacked on the dresser and on the floor, at the candles and incense and the jewellery holder. Nico touches one of the stuffed animals on the bed, petting it.

He looks out the window after a while, eyes wide and curious as he looks out across the street. The rooftop reaches out past the window, keeping it mostly dry except for a few scattered drops of water that sparkle in the soft city lights.

A flash of lightning lights up Nico’s face, and he looks down the street, his expression softening as there’s a quiet rumble of thunder. He leans against the windowsill, watching a car pass, before he looks at Will, who nods toward the window.

Nico sits, bringing a leg up in front of himself as Will joins him quietly, sitting across from him, and Will’s eyes finally see the jack-o'lanterns on Nico’s socks. Will smiles.

The rain is heavy.

They sit in the sound of it, both leaning back and looking out the window, which is beginning to fog over from their body heat.

“You smoke?” Will asks after a while, looking at Nico.

“What, are you a cop?”

Will snorts, shaking his head as he twists around to reach his bedside table with practiced ease, rummaging through it and closing his eyes as he feels through it. He holds up a joint when he finds one, opening his eyes to find Nico watching, raising his eyebrows to ask. Nico nods, half-smiling.

Will has to get up when he can’t find the lighter, and he comes back with them both and a heart-shaped ashtray. He passes the joint to Nico, who leans forward to take it between his lips. Will lights it for him, carefully as the lighter sparks, willing his hands not to shake. The flame lights Nico’s face up like the lighting did, but the glow is warmer.

Will cracks the window open as Nico exhales the smoke and passes the joint to him. It’s cold out, and a breeze makes the window rattle. The sound of the rain gets louder.

Nico’s eyes glaze over as they smoke, shiny and unfocused as he watches the rain. He rests his head against the wall behind him, and he doesn’t seem to notice Will staring at him, almost studying him. His hair is messy, loose curls tumbling over his shoulders, and he’s holding the ends of his sleeves in his fists, still holding them even when he reaches to take the joint from Will. Will wonders if he’s cold, but he doesn’t seem to be.

“Can I ask you a question?” Will asks after a while, as Nico is taking a slow drag.

“Mhmm.”

“Where are you from?” Will asks. Nico looks at him, exhaling slowly, expressionless. “Just… Katz said California, but you don’t sound… Californian. I can’t place your accent.”

Nico looks out the window, taking another drag before holding the joint out to Will.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Will says, seeing the wall build up around Nico. The same wall that was there on his first day.

Nico glances at him, watching him smoke before stubbing the joint out.

“I’m Italian,” he says finally, letting a brick fall away. “I moved to California with… with my mom and sister when I was little.”

Will pauses.

“Hazel?” he asks softly, carefully. Nico looks out the window again, his throat working as he swallows and shakes his head.

“Her name was Bianca.”

Was.

Oh.

“That’s a pretty name,” Will says quietly. Nico just nods.

He’s quiet for a few moments, watching the rain fall, watching a car pass by, the headlights blurry in the dark.

“It was a drunk driver,” he says finally. His accent is heavier now, tilting his words prettily. “He was a little injured, but he…” He trails off, swallowing, pausing. “He was fine. Bianca and Mamma weren’t.”

Oh.

Nico is avoiding Will’s eyes, glaring outside into the city. Will can tell that there’s a simmering anger under his skin, a quiet rage that wants to scream. Because the driver got out of it fine, and Nico lost everything. His mother. His sister. His ability to walk.

Which probably reminds him with every painful, taxing step of what he’s lost.

“That fucking sucks,” Will says.

Nico nods again.

“Can I ask when?” Will asks, shifting where he’s sitting. He moves the ashtray to the bedside table as Nico thinks before he leans over his bent leg, resting his crossed forearms on his knee and his chin on his arms, looking at him.

“‘Bout a year ago.”

Will nods, wanting to wince.

“Hazel and our dad,” Nico says, his voice a little thick. “They lived somewhere else, but they— they only had two bedrooms. So they moved when I had to live with them, that’s why— that’s why Hazel is new at school too.”

Will nods. He can tell Nico is trying to bottle it up again, to put the brick back in its place. He doesn’t really want him to.

“You okay?” he asks softly. Nico blinks at him, eyes flicking back and forth between Will’s like he’s trying to tell if he’s serious or not.

He shrugs lightly, nonchalantly, weakly, but he must see the earnestness in Will’s eyes, because he drops the shrug and stammers for a moment before he says, “I keep… waiting for it to pass. But it won’t go away.”

Will’s chest aches. He shakes his head.

“Grief doesn’t go away,” he says softly.

Nico blinks. A quiet desperation flickers behind his eyes.

“Ever?” he asks in a small voice, so quiet it almost disappears behind the rain.

Will shakes his head, smiling sadly.

“It doesn’t…” He pauses, shifting again. His shoulder presses into the glass of the window. It’s cold, even through his sweatshirt. “It doesn’t get smaller,” he says. “You grow around it. With it.”

Nico blink again, and Will sees the question he isn’t asking.

“My aunt’s a therapist,” he explains, smiling. “We talked about grief a lot when my abuela passed.”

Nico nods.

“Grief sucks,” Will says.

“Yeah,” Nico says quietly, looking out the window again. “I kinda just… I don’t wanna feel like this anymore.”

“I know,” Will says, whispering. “But it’s also… kinda beautiful.”

Nico blinks at him, pulling his knee closer.

“How?” he whispers.

Will sighs, pressing against the window, looking at Nico. The room is lit up by a lamp on the other side of Willms bed, the glow of it warm and dim, and it makes Nico’s skin look golden. The other side of his face is lit up by the city outside, occasionally by flashes of lightning, silver and cold. Will wishes he was an artist so he could paint him.

“Death…” he starts slowly, carefully, thinking. “Is, like… the end. Of everything.”

Nico is listening, staring at Will, unblinking.

“And we know that,” Will says. “As people. It’s something we all know, that— that everyone is going to die eventually. But it…” He pauses, thinking over his words as Nico stares. “It doesn’t stop anyone.

“People still… make friends, and hang out, and… fall in love and get married and have children and… You know. Every day. Even though we know we’ll have to say goodbye someday.”

Nico blinks. He sets his chin on his knee. Their faces are closer. Close enough for Will to see his lip quiver.

“And we… we love people in spite of— of death. In spite of the end of everything. …You love your mom and Bianca.”

Nico nods, blinking at him, his eyes glistening. Will’s chest hurts.

“Even death can’t stop that,” Will says softly. “Grief doesn’t go away because love doesn’t go away. But… you’ll learn to live with it. To manage it.”

Nico just looks at him, and the look in his eyes makes Will want to cry. He looks so… helpless.

“I have…” Nico starts quietly, pausing and looking out the window like he doesn’t want to look at Will. “I have PTSD. It feels like the world is just… set on, like. Reminding me every chance it gets.”

Will nods, looking at the side of Nico’s face, at the bridge of his nose, the curve of his eyelashes, lit up by the city outside.

“That fucking sucks,” Will says quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Nico nods and bites his lip to stop its trembling, and he sniffles, taking a little breath. A tear rolls down his cheek, and before Will can stop himself, he’s reaching out to wipe it away carefully. Nico lets him.

He looks at him, eyes wet with tears that haven’t fallen, and Will lowers his hand, giving him a small smile.

“‘S gonna be okay,” he says softly.

Nico nods, wiping his face and squeezing his eyes shut, forcing himself to stop crying. Will doesn’t really want him to do that, to hide from Will, but he doesn’t say anything.

When they finally go to bed, Will shuts off the lamp, but the lights outside keep the room bright enough to see. Nico looks at the stuffed animals on Will’s bed, but he doesn’t seem to be judging them or anything. Just looking. They settle under the blankets, laying on opposite sides of the bed, far away from each other, but Will can tell that Nico is staring up at the ceiling the way he is.

It’s quiet for a while, their breaths soft with the sound of cars passing outside, the sound of the rain falling.

“Will?” Nico whispers as Will's eyes are drifting shut. His voice is quiet like he doesn’t want to wake Will up.

“Yeah?” Will whispers back. “You okay?”

“…Can you come closer?”

Will moves, pulling the blanket up and shifting across the mattress so he’s a little closer. He can feel Nico’s arm next to his under the blanket. After a moment Nico shifts, moving closer to Will.

Nico exhales as their arms press, and Will closes his eyes.

Nico is quiet for so long that Will thinks he’s fallen asleep, but then he shifts, lifting a hand and touching Will’s upper arm, his fingers gripping his sleeve for a moment. Will’s stomach flutters, and he suppresses a smile, exhaling slowly.

“Do you want me to put my arm around you?” he asks quietly.

“Yes, please.”

Will shifts, opening his eyes to make sure he doesn’t elbow Nico in the head as he lifts his arm. Nico opens his eyes too, moving so Will can put his arm behind his head, around his shoulders as Nico rolls into him and sighs. He’s still holding the ends of his sleeves in his fists.

Nico’s head rests on Will’s chest, and Will hopes he doesn’t notice how fast his heart is beating as he runs his hand over the top of his head. His hair is soft.

Nico falls asleep. Will can pinpoint the moment he does, smiling when he feels Nico fall lax against him, when he hears his breathing become slow and steady. Will lets his head tilt to rest his cheek on the top of his head.

When he wakes up, the light coming through the window is silvery grey from lingering storm clouds, but he’s warm. His arm is resting over Nico’s waist, his chest to Nico’s back, face buried in his hair. (His hair smells fruity, like pomegranates.)

Will sits up slowly, careful not to move him, looking down at Nico. His hair is in his face, and he’s holding one of Will’s stuffed animals, the rabbit, to himself, his arms wrapped around it, his cheek resting on top of its head. Will’s stomach flutters again, and he suppresses a smile before he moves to get off the bed.

When he goes back to his room, Nico is sitting up, the rabbit falling to his side as he rubs his eye.

“Morning,” Will says brightly, his voice quiet. He moves to set the mug in his hands down on the bedside table next to Nico. “I figured you seem like a black coffee guy, but if you want milk or sugar or anything…”

Nico shakes his head, looking at the coffee. His expression softens as he watches the steam swirl.

“Black coffee is good,” he says. His voice is rough. “Thank you.”

He sips it slowly, legs crossed under Will’s blankets. The rabbit sits next to him.

“Did you sleep okay?” Will asks as he sits carefully, holding his own mug. Nico looks up at him, a smile teasing his lips, and he nods.

“You’re very comfortable,” he says quietly. Will giggles into his mug.

He holds Will’s arm as they go back to Nico’s place. It’s a fancy building, with penthouses at the top, and Will suddenly remembers Nico’s off-hand My dad’s rich and he eyes the top of the building as Nico pulls his phone out to text Hazel. She doesn’t answer, and he calls her. Will leans against a wall while he waits, watching.

“I’m outside,” Nico says when Hazel picks up. “Buzz me in.” He pauses for a moment, and his eyes widen as his cheeks flush red, and he turns away from Will, hissing a sharp, “Shut up, oh my god, you’re the worst.”

Will can hear Hazel’s laughter even though she isn’t on speakerphone, and he smiles, curious as Nico glances at him.

“Just let me in, Jesus.”

The door buzzes and clicks, and Nico mumbles a quick thank you before he hangs up and opens the door before it can lock again. He puts his phone in his pocket and looks at Will nervously, hesitating in the doorway.

“I had fun,” he says finally.

Will's lips twitch into a smile.

“Me too.”

Nico hesitates again, eyes flicking up and down Will as he stands up from the wall.

“Do you have, like, an Instagram?” Will asks, hesitating, and possibly stalling, and Nico blinks before he nods with a quiet, “Oh. Yeah.”

He pulls his phone out, and they exchange Instagrams, standing too closely to each other for a few moments.

“Cool,” Will says after following him, sliding his phone into his pocket even though he wants to scroll through his whole account. “I’ll see you Monday,” he says lightly, giving Nico a crooked smile and stepping backward as Nico nods, holding his phone to his chest.

Will suppresses a smile until he’s around a corner, after hearing the door click shut, and he scrubs a hand over his face, grinning so brightly his eyes squeeze shut.

He goes home. His mom is in bed, and he’s careful to avoid the creaky floorboards in the hallway. Lucita is lounging by a window, in the faint sunlight, and Will pauses to kiss her head.

He goes to get groceries. And takes the trash out. And he cleans the kitchen, and sorts out the shoes by the front door, and folds all the throw blankets that are strewn around the living room. He’s procrastinating, getting as much done as he can before he goes back to his room, lingering by the door as Lucita follows him in. He falls onto his bed, sighing heavily. It’s raining again, tapping quietly in his window.

He rolls onto his side, sighing, and he comes face to face with the stuffed rabbit. His lips twitch into a smile as he remembers the way Nico held it to his face as he slept, the way its head made his cheek squish.

Will reaches out and touches the soft fur, pulling it closer as he bends his other arm under his head. He pushes the fur out of its eyes, his fingertips brushing the shiny plastic, and he pulls it closer, watching the long ears drag behind its head.

It smells like Nico. Like sweet pomegranate seeds and a little like smoke. (The smell of weed vaguely lingers behind, but it’s also… heavier than weed. Kind of floral. Like incense, maybe.)

Will tosses the rabbit away when he realises he’s weird he’s being, smelling a fucking stuffed animal because Nico held it when he slept last night. Creepy.

He sits up, sitting against the wall, and Lucita hops up onto the bed as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, crawling across the blanket to his lap.

He coos at her fondly, scratching under her chin, gazing at the scar on her ear and the freckle on her nose. (Will's mom likes to say that the freckle is a clear sign that she was meant to be a Solace.)

“Princesa,” he murmurs, smiling when she turns in a circle in his lap before settling. He opens his phone, brightening the screen in his greyness of his room, his eyes catching on the Instagram notification that Nico followed him.

He pauses, biting his thumbnail before he opens Nico’s account, scrolling through it slowly.

A blurry photo of city lights, taken from up high. A shattered mirror in the curb of a street. A pomegranate, close up, the seeds glistening. A burning cigarette against a cloudy night sky. Broken glass.

It’s all very Nico.

Most of them are uncaptioned, though so are captioned just with emojis, headphones, a bus, a white flag. Will looks at all of them curiously.

His stomach falls when he accidentally likes one, his finger brushing over the small heart icon as his eyes linger on the photo. It’s Nico’s handwriting on a wall, reading I HATE THIS TOWN.

He unlikes it quickly, realising how far down Nico’s account he is, and he flushes with embarassed heat, reaching to pet Lucita’s head. The heat only intensifies when a notification appears at the top of the screen, a message from Nico.

bonechurch: saw that

Will rolls his eyes, letting his phone fall to the bed next to him before he picks it back up and opens it, his face hot. He hesitates, looking at the snarky message.

Fuck it.

willsoulless: do you need something im stalking a cute boys ig

He suppresses a smile when Nico responds a moment later with an emoji, just the standing man.

bonechurch: you’re annoying

willsoulless: i’m aware it’s the only thing that brings me joy

bonechurch: kinda sad
bonechurch: but fair

willsoulless: thanks
willsoulless: anyway
willsoulless: bonechurch?

bonechurch: slipknot

willsoulless: ah
willsoulless: your fav song?

bonechurch: one of them
bonechurch: so
bonechurch: soulless?

Will slides down the wall, and Lucita shifts to lay her head in his belly. She sighs.

willsoulless: solace, soulless
willsoulless: homonyms

bonechurch: nerd

Will grins, practically hearing Nico’s dry voice.

willsoulless: ur so mean

bonechurch: oh sorry
bonechurch: nerd (affectionate)

Will’s eyes squeeze shut under his bright smile as his cheeks flush with heat, and he scrubs his hand over his face, his stomach fluttering.

bonechurch: anyway your username isn’t very accurate

willsoulless: elaborate

bonechurch: you’re not soulless
bonechurch: your soul is very loud

Will bites his thumbnail, letting out a soft laugh as he raises an eyebrow at his phone.

willsoulless: loud?

bonechurch: shiny

willsoulless: shiny

bonechurch: very

Will covers his face with the collar of his shirt, grinning because Nico di Angelo thinks Will’s soul is shiny.

willsoulless: 👉👈

bonechurch: 🙄

—————

“What are you smiling at?”

Dahlia’s voice startles Will, and he looks up from his phone, from his chat with Nico. He suppresses a smile, closing his locker.

“Nothing.”

“Not a cute bo-o-oy?” she teases, and he raises an eyebrow at her.

“You know what a cute boy is?”

“No, I do not.”

“Wow,” Vincent says loudly, and Dahlia cackles, throwing her head back, her braids swinging and just missing Will’s face. He rolls his eyes fondly, looking back down at his phone, skimming the messages again. A picture Will sent of Lucita laying on his face with a message reading she doesn’t want me to leave followed by a message from Nico reading lmao and then i’d die for her.

“I take offence,” he says to Dahlia before she can interrogate him. “As a cute boy.”

“Right,” she says dryly, nodding.

“Don’t you have detention or something?”

“No, that’s on the schedule for next week. Asshole.”

He snickers and starts down the hall, swinging his bag around to hit her before he puts it on, and she kicks at his feet, swearing as he hops over her feet and laughs.

Vincent rolls his eyes and puts his arm around Dahlia as they wind around the students passing them, swimming upstream, and Will means to listen to them banter, but his eyes catch on Nico, standing outside a classroom.

Their eyes meet, and Will smiles at him, glancing him up and down. He’s wearing a heavy button-down that’s much too big for him, ripped jeans that expose his pale skin. Heavy boots. He’s using a crutch, which he waves half-heartedly at Will, raising an eyebrow as Will’s face somehow lights up even more.

“And?” Will says, leaning against the other side of the door.

“‘S easier,” Nico says quietly.

Will pauses, looking at him. He isn’t wearing any eyeliner. He looks tired.

“You okay?” Will asks gently. Nico blinks at him, looking startled.

“Tired,” he says quietly, his voice almost lost in the echoing of the hallway. “…Leg hurts.”

Will nods.

“You need anything?”

Nico blinks again before he shakes his head, almost smiling.

“I took something before I left,” he says softly. Will nods again.

“Let me know later, yeah?”

Nico nods, tilting his head.

“Has anyone said anything?” Will asks, nodding at the crutch. “I’ll kick their asses,” he offers lightly, quirking an eyebrow. It makes Nico snort.

“No,” he says quietly. “No one’s said anything.”

“I think they’re scared of you,” Will says, and Nico furrows his brows, smiling and shaking his head. “No, you’re pretty terrifying.”

“Right,” Nico says doubtfully, nodding. “‘Specially with this,” he says, lifting the crutch. “Worst case scenario, I just…” He smacks Will’s leg lightly with the crutch, and Will giggles, flinching back from it as Nico smiles. He has a lovely smile. Will would walk across broken glass to see it.

—————

On Wednesday it’s raining. Hard. They can hear it even in the crowded hallways, pounding on the roof loudly. It’s like an overwhelming white noise, above and under and in between other students’ voices, overlapping and layering. Will hates it. He’d like to be at home, laying in bed, maybe with a book. Or asleep. He’d like to be asleep.

It’s his free period, and he glances at his watch. He doesn’t have much homework to do. Maybe he can take a nap before his next class.

His thoughts stop in their tracks when he spots Nico, standing by his locker, a hand covering one of his ears as he sorts something in his locker. His expression is pinched, brows furrowed, shoulders tensed.

“Hey,” Will says when he’s close enough to be heard over the noisy hallway.

Nico looks up at him, and his expression softens as his hand falls from his ear.

“Hi.”

“What’s up?”

“Uhm.” Nico takes a breath, glancing around the hallway. “It’s loud. And I’m kind of, uhm… Like. Overwhelmed.”

Will nods.

“What class do you have?”

“Uhm. It’s my free period.”

“Do you wanna go to the library?”

Nico pauses, his eyes flicking over Will anxiously.

“You don’t have a class?”

“Not until next period.”

Nico nods. He still seems apprehensive, but he flinches when someone shouts down the hall, his eyes squeezing shut for a second as his brows furrow.

“Library?” Will asks gently.

Nico nods, closing his locker carefully. He holds Will’s arm as Will leads him down the hallway, careful to avoid being jostled by the others.

The library is quiet. The rain is still loud on the roof, but it fades into white noise when it’s not overlapping with the noisy, echoing voices of kids and the slamming of lockers. Will leads Nico to the back of the library, where he usually sits on the floor because nobody ever comes back here. It’s a nonfiction section, rows and rows of biographies and books on religion.

“Better?” Will whispers quietly as they sit on the floor against the bookshelf. Nico exhales, nodding, and he closes his eyes, letting his head fall back.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Just… Can’t really, like. Breathe.”

“Like an allergic reaction or like a panic attack?”

Nico scoffs, smiling weakly, and he tilts his head up, his hair catching on the bookshelf behind them.

“Panic attack.”

He exhales shakily, blinking blearily at the ceiling, his fingers knotted in the ends of his sleeves of his hoodie.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Will whispers. Nico nods, and Will shifts closer, reaching out and carefully pressing his hand to Nico’s belly. “Breathe in,” he instructs gently, watching Nico’s eyes flutter shut as he inhales. His breath catches in his throat, but he tries again without Will telling him to, taking a soft, hiccuping breath, his belly rising against Will’s hand.

“Good,” Will says quietly. “Out.”

Nico exhales shakily, and one of his hands reaches down to Will’s, sliding across the back of it before he holds onto his fingers loosely as Will strokes his thumb over his skin softly.

“One more time,” Will murmurs. Nico squeezes his fingers, taking another deep breath, his belly rising and falling as he exhales.

“I don’t like loud noises,” he says finally. “They’re…”

“‘S okay.”

Nico sighs, shoulders slumping, still blinking at the wall across from them.

“Grapes,” he says after a long moment.

“...Hm?”

“I’m— I’m allergic to grapes.”

“Oh.” Will looks at him, at the way his face has softened. “Penicillin.”

Nico’s lips curve into a smile and he exhales, laughing softly.

“Are you laughing at my allergy?”

“No. Yes. ‘S just… ironic. For a doctor.”

Will hums.

Nico doesn’t let go of Will’s fingers, holding his hand against himself.

“Your hand’s warm,” he says softly.

“I run hot.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Will snorts, his stomach fluttering as Nico’s lips curve into a smile and his cheeks turn pink.

“Sorry,” Nico says quietly.

“No, ‘s fine,” Will says, still giggling. “That was funny.”

Nico takes another deep breath, smiling as he exhales, pressing Will’s hand against himself firmly.

“Okay?” Will asks softly. Nico nods.

He relaxes against the bookshelf, sighing, closing his eyes, and Will brushes his thumb back and forth over his belly. He can’t pull his hand away, not when Nico is holding onto his fingers and breathing slowly, calmly, like he might be about to fall asleep.

Nico’s hand shifts on Will’s, slipping over his knuckles, and the end of his sleeve slides up a little bit, exposing his wrist just under his palm. There’s something dark there, a small tattoo, but Will can’t see what it is. He tilts his head, shifting so he can brush over it with his thumb, but Nico jerks his hand back, his eyes opening as he pulls his sleeve back down.

“Sorry,” Will says quickly, watching the way Nico’s cheeks flush. His eyes are wide, avoiding Will’s gaze.

“It’s…”

He’s fidgeting with the end of his sleeve, tightening, and Will’s stomach twists. He’s hiding something, and Will has a sickeningly familiar feeling of what.

“Is that a tattoo?” he asks softly, wanting Nico to relax again. Wanting his shoulders to slump and his eyes to close.

Nico looks at him hesitantly before he holds his wrist out, pulling the sleeve up just enough to expose the tattoo. Will looks closer, reaching to touch it lightly, careful not to move his sleeve. It’s a small B with a period, a tiny cursive initial that makes Will’s chest ache.

“Bianca?” he asks softly. Nico nods, his fingers curling around Will’s hand, and Will pulls his sleeve back down before holding his hand carefully. “‘S pretty.”

“Hazel did it for me.”

“Really?” Will smiles as Nico nods, his expressions softening, his posture relaxing a little bit.

“After I moved in. She said I wasn’t allowed to sue if it got infected and we had to amputate.”

Will snorts, scrunching his nose.

“Looks like it healed alright,” he says quietly.

“You know a lot about tattoos?”

“Not a lot, but…” He hesitates before he lets go of Nico’s hand, shifting to pull up the end of his t-shirt sleeve just enough to show the tattoo on his inner bicep. Nico leans closer to look, his face lighting up with a smile.

It’s a few leaves, the lines thin and delicate, shaded with dots. Nico traces them with a careful fingertip.

“When’d you get it?” he asks. His voice is low, quiet and breathy.

“My eighteenth,” Will says. “Two months ago.”

Nico gazes at the tattoo again, the gears in his head whirring before he says, “August.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you a Leo?”

“Yeah.”

Nico smiles, nodding.

“When’s your birthday?” Will asks.

“January.”

“What’s your sign?”

“Aquarius.”

“Aquarius,” Will says, nodding. He pauses for a moment before he pulls his phone out, casually holding it so Nico can see, opening Safari and typing into the search bar as he speaks out loud. “Are… Leos… and… Aquariuses… compatible…”

Nico snorts, reaching to smack his phone out of his hand, but Will swerves, holding it out of his reach as it loads, grinning as Nico tries to reach across him to it.

“You’re so annoying,” Nico says, but Will can hear his smile in his voice.

“We are!” Will says brightly, ignoring him. Nico lets him read the top result, his shoulder pressing to Will’s. “‘One of the best among the zodiacs,’” Will reads, shooting him a look and grinning when Nico’s cheeks flush pink as he rolls his eyes. He reads further, suppressing a smile. “‘Aquarius’ attraction to Leo can be likened to moths being drawn to light,’” he reads, looking at Nico with a raised eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Nico’s cheeks flush darker, and he finally smacks Will’s phone away.

“Shut up.”

Will snickers, picking his phone back up and shutting it off before sliding it under his leg. Nico is still blushing, looking at the ground before he moves so his legs are out straight. He knocks one of his feet against Will’s, looking at the scuffed black leather of his boot next to Will’s sunflower Vans.

Nico leans against him, finally relaxing after a few moments, and he reaches for Will’s hand, tracing lines down his fingers when Will opens them. It tickles a little bit, and his rings are cold.

“Are you going to get more?” Nico asks, tracing the lines of his palm.

“Tattoos?”

“Mhmm.”

“Probably not soon, but I'd like to.”

“What are you gonna get?”

“Not sure yet,” Will says, watching Nico’s fingers lace with his. “Maybe a bird or something.”

“What bird?”

“Uh. A pigeon.”

Nico giggles. Will grins.

—————

“Will, I’m going!”

Will rolls off his bed, hopping to pull open his door, sticking his face out as his mom swings her purse around her shoulder, her curls flying because she hasn’t tied them up out of the way yet.

She pauses in the hall to peck his cheeks and ruffle his hair.

“Love you, nene.”

“Love you, Mami. Drive safe.”

“Always.”

He goes back to lay in bed when the front door shuts, letting a leg hang over the side of it as he opens his phone.

Vincent sent him a selfie, skateboarding down a sidewalk and flipping the camera off. Will responds with a picture of Lucita laying on her back, legs in the air.

He’s scrolling through some memes from Dahlia when a notification pops up at the top of his screen, and he grins.

bonechurch: bored. help.

He goes to open the message, pausing before he types.

willsoulless: wyd

bonechurch: laying on my floor

willsoulless: for why

bonechurch: because comfy
bonechurch: also because bored

Will grins, and he calls him before he can talk himself out of it.

“Hello,” Nico says dryly when he answers.

“Still on the floor?”

“It’s been thirty seconds. Yes.”

Will snorts, grinning as he slides down the bed to lay on his back. Nico’s voice is nice over the phone. It’s not the same as it is in person, but nice nonetheless.

“Are you up to anything else?”

“Not really,” Nico says lightly. “Finished my homework. Hazel’s out with friends.”

“How come you’re not?”

“You think I have friends?”

“I think you should.”

“Hm. I’ll look into that, then.”

“Just for me?”

“If it makes you happy…” Nico says in a voice so dreamy Will knows he’s being a sarcastic shit again, and Will beams.

“Aw, you’re such a darling.”

“Anyway,” Nico says loudly. “What are you doing?”

“Staring at my ceiling. Talking to you.”

“Eventful day, huh.”

“Extremely.”

Nico sighs heavily, and Will giggles, stretching his legs, letting his free arm swing over stretch across his bed. He looks over when his hand hits the rabbit, and he pulls it closer, setting it on his chest.

“Wanna play a game?” he asks.

“Ominous. Sure.”

Will is laughing again. He can’t stop smiling.

“Okay,” he says, thinking for a moment as he fiddles with the rabbit’s ears. “Uh. Answer as fast as you can. Quick answers.”

“Okay?” Nico says, and Will can hear his smile.

“Name something… green.”

“Oh, uh…”

“Fast.”

“Fuck, uh, grass.”

“Name something orange.”

“Orange.”

“That’s a shitty answer.”

“I’ll hang up on you.”

“Don’t. Name something red.”

“Blood.”

“Holy shit.” A laugh bursts out of Will, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Oh my god.”

“That’s my answer,” Nico says loudly, still smiling. “I thought this was a fast game.”

“Jesus, okay, uh, pink.”

“Uh… cotton candy.”

“Wow. Uh, blue.”

“Your eyes.”

Will blinks, his smile faltering. His hand that’s been flopping one of the rabbit’s ears up and down falters too, and the ear falls as he pauses.

“Oh.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Will stares up at the ceiling, even as Lucita crawls across his legs, lounging between them.

“Hello?” Nico’s voice says quietly, and Will blinks again.

“Yeah, hi.”

“Did I break you?”

“Uh. I think so, yeah.”

He hears Nico giggle. It’s a little quiet, like Nico’s pulled the phone away from his mouth, and Will cracks a smile, blinking again.

“Jesus.”

“Is the game over?”

“Oh, right. Uhm. Purple.”

“Uh… Hazel’s favorite blouse.”

“That doesn’t count, I don’t know what that looks like.”

“Oh well.”

“Ugh.”

—————

“Anyway. She gave us an extra worksheet and I fear I may lose my entire mind.”

Nico snorts, reaching up to fit a book on the upper shelf of his locker.

“Your entire mind?” he says. “Little bit dramatic.”

“I’m queer and Puerto Rican, what did you expect?”

Nico’s nose scrunches when he laughs, and Will’s heart swells, because he’s fucking adorable.

“What are the worksheets?”

“Oh, they’re actually not too bad, one’s just multiple choice about some Hank Green video and the other has two open-answer questions about the chapter we had to read.”

“So that should take you…”

Will shrugs even though his shoulder is against one of the lockers next to Nico’s.

“If I procrastinate like usual, maybe until the next time I have her class. If I just do it like a normal person, like an hour or so.”

Nico is smiling as he sorts his books.

“Glad you’re self-aware,” he says, and Will reaches out to poke his waist, grinning when Nico shrinks away with a giggle. The fabric of his jacket is thick, heavy denim. “Dare you to finish them tonight,” he says when he finishes with the books, swinging his locker shut carefully and locking it. His fingers spin the lock deftly, and Will watches, almost mesmerised.

“Why would you do that?” he says, referring to the dare, not his hand, and Nico tilts his head at him, eyes shining brightly.

“Because I know that you’ll put it off until Monday, like five minutes before your class starts.”

“Wo-o-ow…” Will glances over Nico’s shoulder as he leans against his locker to mirror Will, watching some boys approach one of the lockers behind Nico. They’re muffling their laughter as one spins the lock, and Will looks back at Nico. “You think you know me so well.”

Nico raises an eyebrow, a smile teasing his lips,

“Am I wrong?”

Will makes a face, sticking his tongue out, and Nico’s smile widens.

“No, but still. A vote of confidence would be nice.”

“You have my confidence,” Nico says. “I think you can finish your homework. But you actually have to do it to finish it, so…”

Will just groans, his head falling back, and Nico laughs, eyes squinting under his smile.

“You’re so dramatic.”

Will gestures to himself with a flopping hand, and Nico laughs again. Will opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t get anything out before the locker that the boys are at slams shut, the metal sound loud enough that he startles, looking past Nico at the boys with a sharp, “Jesus.”

They’re laughing again, looking back at Nico and Will, and Will’s chest aches as he looks at Nico, whose hands are clapped tight over his ears, his head down. His hair is hiding his face, but Will can see that he’s already shaking.

“Hey,” Will says softly, but Nico doesn’t move, frozen in place. Will leans down to look at his face, his chest tight as concern bundles in his stomach, and the bundle grows when he finds Nico staring at the ground, wide-eyed, frozen, taking sharp, shallow breaths. “Nico, hey.”

He reaches to touch Nico’s arm, and Nico startles, eyes cutting to Will’s, and then they’re flooding with tears as he exhales sharply, eyelashes fluttering. Will touches his arm more firmly, holding his forearm carefully, nodding, but Nico lets out a, “No,” and Will’s chest clenches. The boys are still laughing.

“Come on,” Will says, pulling at his arm gently to pull him down the hallway, catching him with an arm around his shoulders when he stumbles, because his knee gives out for a moment. “You’re okay, I got you, come on.”

He glares at the boys as they pass.

There’s an empty classroom down the hall and around the corner, and Will opens the door, glancing around to make sure there’s no one inside before he pulls Nico inside. Nico is still holding his ears, and he’s hyperventilating now, eyes squeezed shut as Will guides him and shuts the door gently. It’s quiet in here, the echoey sounds of the hallway muffled into white noise. Nico’s breathing is loud, too loud, too fast, and Will wants to cry, his hands shaking with fear and with anger. He’s so angry.

“Hey,” he says again, holding Nico’s arm, and Nico’s eyes fly open as he looks up at him. They’re glassy and almost unfocused, searching for Will right in front of him. “Come here, you’re okay.”

He drops his own bag to the floor, nudging it aside with his foot, and he reaches for Nico’s hesitantly, taking it and setting it aside when Nico lets him before he gently guides Nico to sit on the floor because there’s no furniture in the room. Nico collapses with him, still holding his ears, but he seems to find Will as they sit, reaching out with both trembling hands and grabbing at Will’s shirt tightly.

“Will.”

“I’m right here,” Will says softly, gently, touching his hands and nodding as Nico looks into his eyes. “I got you.”

Tears fall down Nico’s face and Will aches, reaching up with a hand to wipe his cheek carefully, tenderly.

“You’re okay,” he whispers even though Nico is far from okay right now, hyperventilating and panicking.

“No—”

“You are,” Will argues softly, touching his cheek as he blinks hard and more tears fall. “I know that was scary, but you… You’re safe, Ni, I got you, okay?”

Nico chokes Will’s name again, and Will nods, moving closer and reaching to carefully place his hand on Nico’s belly, watching carefully in case Nico recoils or panics more. But Nico’s eyelashes just flutter again, and he just looks confused, like he doesn’t know who Will is even as he holds onto his shirt.

“Slow,” Will says softly, carefully pulling one of Nico’s hands from his shirt and placing it on his own belly as he inhales slowly, deeply. Nico’s eyes look down, looking at his own hand on Will, and Will exhales. “Take a deep breath for me.”

Nico blinks at him, and there are tears caught in his eyelashes, and his cheeks are red, and even when he’s panicking he’s beautiful. Will nods, inhaling again, demonstrating, and Nico tries to copy, but his breath gets caught in his throat and he gasps, hiccuping.

“You got it,” Will encourages quietly, and Nico is leaning closer, eyes trained on Will’s face. “Try again.”

Nico tries again.

And again.

And again.

Until he finally lets out a slow exhale, his lips pursed as he blows the air between them, and Will smiles.

“There you go,” he says gently. “You got it.”

Nico blinks at him, and he’s crying as he tries to inhale again, his breaths catching and stuttering in his chest, and Will wants to cry too, but he doesn’t. He presses closer, holding Nico carefully, chest aching as Nico’s hands press harder.

“I know,” Will says, nodding when Nico lets out a quiet whine. “It was just some assholes, Ni, you’re okay.”

Nico’s lip quivers. Will touches his face.

“I got you,” he whispers. “You’re safe, okay?”

And Nico falls forward against him, letting out a quiet, deep sob that comes right from his chest, burying his face in Will’s neck as Will gathers him into his arms, squeezing his eyes shut. Nico is still shaking, crying quietly into Will’s neck, and he curls up into a ball between his legs, arms tucked between them, legs drawn to his chest, and Will holds him.

And Will has never felt like this before.

He feels so… soft. And careful, and quiet, but there’s still this fire in his chest, this fucking rage, and Will doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry before. He keeps it locked away until Nico stops crying, pressing his cheek to the top of Nico’s head and rocking him a little, whispering that he’s okay, that he’s safe, and wishing he had the stuffed rabbit here for Nico to hold.

When Nico stops crying, he doesn’t move. He just sniffles, turning to wipe his face with his sleeve, melting against Will even more because he’s tired.

“You alright?” Will asks quietly, whispering as he runs a hand over Nico’s hair. Nico shrugs weakly. “You are,” he says. “Can you say it? That you’re alright?”

Nico shakes his head.

“No talking right now?” Will asks, and Nico nods, pressing close so his forehead is touching the side of Will’s neck. “Is it okay if I talk?”

Nico nods again, and one of his hands finds Will’s shirt, grasping the fabric like he’s pulling Will even closer.

“I got you,” Will murmurs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Nico exhales shakily.

Will plays with his hair, combing through it as Nico catches his breath, twisting the curly ends around his fingers, scratching at his scalp. Nico melts against him, making quiet noises that Will doesn’t quite understand. But it doesn’t matter.

He rubs Nico’s arm gently, squeezing his bicep reassuringly, and Nico reaches to hold his shirt again, his hand grasping the fabric lightly. His breath is warm on Will’s neck, and he’s quiet for a while before he sniffles and presses closer. Will tightens his arms around him, squeezing.

“They’re just a bunch of dickheads, Ni,” he says softly. “I don’t know why, but they… They don’t fucking matter, okay?”

Nico just nods into his neck.

After a while, he shifts a little, just enough to fish his phone out of his pocket without sitting up, and Will watches, expecting him to open the notes app or something, but he pulls up the phone app, finding Hazel and holding the phone up for Will to take.

He takes it hesitantly, looking at the picture of Hazel. Her hair is in two puffs on top of her head and she’s wearing heart-shaped sunglasses, sticking her tongue out.

“You want me to tell her where we are?”

Nico nods, relaxing against him again and exhaling. Will calls.

It’s quiet as he waits for her to answer, and he rubs Nico’s arm again, smiling when Nico reaches for his hand, tentatively sliding their fingers together so he’s gripping Will’s index and middle fingers in a loose fist. Will murmurs a soft, “‘S okay,” and Nico’s grip tightens.

“Hi, hi,” Hazel says brightly when she answers.

“Hey,” Will says awkwardly, realizing he’s never even made eye contact with her. He brushes his thumb over Nico’s hand. “Uhm.”

“You’re not Nico,” she says.

“No, I’m— I'm with him. Right now.”

She’s quiet for a moment, but there’s a rustling sound, and then,

“Did something happen?”

“Uh, yeah, he… he had a panic attack. But he’s okay right now, just… recovering.”

Nico presses his face into Will’s neck, squeezing his hand.

“Can you put him on?” she asks.

“He’s nonverbal right now,” Will says, keeping his voice soft because Nico is so close. “He wanted me to call and let you know that we’re, uhm, in one of the empty classrooms in the main building.”

“Which room?” she asks, and she’s walking now, saying, “I gotta go, I’ll text you later,” to whoever she’s with.

“The one with the taped-over window,” he says. “On the second floor.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a minute. He’s okay right now, right? He doesn’t need anything?’

Will tilts his head, whispering.

“You need anything?”

Nico shakes his head.

“No, he’s okay,” Will says.

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

They hang up, and Will turns the phone off, setting it down next to them on the floor because Nico doesn’t let go of him to take it, and it falls quiet again as Nico rubs his cheek against Will’s shoulder and squeezes his fingers.

“I got you,” Will murmurs.

Nico moves their hands, letting go and twisting his hand to play with their fingers. Will closes his eyes, turning his head a little bit to rest his cheek on Nico’s head before he presses a kiss to his forehead. It’s instinctive, almost habitual, and his face flushes with heat.

“Sorry, I…”

Nico makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat, lacing their fingers and pressing closer.

“Was that okay?” Will asks hesitantly, and Nico nods. “...Okay.”

They wait for Hazel, Nico pressed up close to Will’s chest, holding his fingers, and Will rubbing his leg, squeezing his knee, his thigh, watching their fingers tangle and untangle and dance as Nico fidgets tiredly. He presses his lips to Nico’s forehead, not quite kissing him but just holding him there. Nico sighs.

They both look up when the door opens, and Hazel steps in, carefully shutting it behind herself.

“Hey, you okay?” she asks quietly as she comes closer, setting her bag down and kneeling before she plops onto her bottom. Nico nods, sitting up a little, letting go of Will’s hand. “What happened?”

Nico looks at Will.

“Uh, some kids slammed a locker,” he says, the anger bubbling in his stomach again. “Like, right next to us. Loud as fuck.”

He sees the pain in Hazel’s eyes as she looks at Nico again, and she reaches out.

He moves to hug her, his arms around her neck, and Will watches, sighing as she embraces him tenderly, running a hand over his head. She murmurs something quietly to him, too quietly for Will to hear.

Will moves, glancing at the door.

“Hey,” he says softly, and Nico sniffles, lifting his head and looking at him. “Is it cool if I go somewhere?”

Nico hesitates, then releases Hazel, reaching up to hug Will tightly, face buried in his neck, and Will hugs him back, closing his eyes and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. Nico nods when they part, and Will smiles, reaching to touch his face, brushing his thumb over his cheek gently.

Nico leans back against Hazel as Will gets his bag, and Will meets Hazel’s eyes as he stands. They communicate something silently, something like it’s okay, and Hazel says, “Thanks, Will,” in a soft voice. It isn’t until Will is shutting the door that he realizes he never told her his name.

But he doesn’t have time to think about it, because he’s storming down the hall, heart pounding loud in his ears, hands already shaking. One of his hands is gripping his backpack, but it feels almost weightless in his anger.

The boys are still there, gathered around the lockers. A few of them are still snickering, but the one that slammed the locker, whatever the fuck his name is, is talking to a girl.

“I’m just saying that was fucking shitty,” she’s saying, holding some notebooks to her chest. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jesus,” he says with an eye-roll. “How the fuck was I supposed to know he’d react like that?”

“You knew he doesn’t like loud noises,” she snaps. “Everyone knows that. You knew what you were doing.”

“Jesus,” he says again.

“Hey.” Will practically throws his bag aside, letting it land against the lockers and fall to the floor, and the boy turns toward him as he comes closer, almost smirking.

“Look, man, I didn’t know—”

But he can’t get any other words out before Will’s fist hits his face. Gasps erupt around them, and one of the boys cackles, but Will doesn’t hear any of it as the boy swears and hits back.

—————

“You know I hate violence, Will.”

Her voice is too strong, upset. She’s never upset like this. She really hates violence.

“I know, Mami.”

He kicks his shoes off while she locks the door, and he drops his back at the table as he reaches for the freezer door. His cheek is sore, already bruising.

“What the hell happened?” she asks, practically tossing her purse onto the table before she sets her hands on her hips. “They said you started it!”

“Yeah,” he mutters, finding an ice pack in the freezer door, small and blue. “I started it.”

“Why?”

“Es un cabrón, Mami,” he snaps, turning and slamming the door shut. She startles, wide-eyed. “He’s a piece of shit, and he deserved it.”

“Why?” she says again, but she doesn’t seem as upset this time. Just… distraught. And Will aches, and his eyes burn, because in her eyes he punched just another kid. His hands shake.

“Just…” He swallows thickly and holds the ice to his face, and he waves a hand dismissively, going around the table to go to his room, but she stops him.

“No, ven acá, estamos hablando.”

He stops short, looking up at the ceiling, and he sighs heavily before he turns back around and sits at the table, collapsing into a seat as she sits next to him.

“¿Qué pasó?” she asks, her hands on the table. “You’ve never… acted out like this before, Will, this isn’t you. A suspension, it’ll be on your permanent record.”

“It’s only one day,” he grumbles, looking down at his hand in his lap. His knuckles are red. He got lucky really, that the other students in the hallway vouched for him, told the principal and the teachers and everyone that would listen that the kid had purposefully triggered Nico’s panic attack. One student claimed the kid’s been harassing Nico since Nico started school, teasing and making fun of him for weeks.

“Will. What happened?”

“He gave Nico a panic attack,” he snaps, his voice too loud, “and he fucking laughed.”

She blinks, startled again, because he doesn’t usually talk like this, not to her. She stares, absorbing his words before she asks in a softer, curious voice, “Who is Nico?”

He looks back down, huffing, his eyes burning.

“...My friend.”

But she can see right through him. He knows she can.

“What happened?” she asks after a moment, and he looks at the ceiling, blinking tears back, taking a shaking breath.

“Nico tiene…” His voice wavers. “PTSD. Y no le gusta… ruidos fuertes.” He looks at her across the table, and she nods, her brows furrowed, not because she’s upset now, but because she’s listening intently. “Este chico que…”

He cuts off with a hiccup, and he wipes his face, but he forgets about the bruise and he jerks his hand away, hissing in pain. The pain makes his eyes water more, and he drops his head, wanting to laugh because of his own stupidity, but his mom just stands and brings a box of tissues over from the living room.

“Está bien,” she says gently, touching his head as he wipes his face more carefully. “Dime.”

“He… he slammed a locker,” Will says, too emotional to translate everything in his head, and she understands, sitting again, dragging her chair closer to him. “Right next to where Nico was standing, and it was so loud, and it— it just scared him, and he had a panic attack, and the kid that did it was just fucking laughing like it was funny, and I didn’t plan on hurting him, I was just so angry, Mami, I’m sorry—”

She reaches out and touches his hand, squeezing as she says softly, “Respira.”

He drops his head to the table, taking a stuttering breath, and she touches the top of his head, quiet. He closes his eyes, taking another breath.

He isn’t really sorry, but he doesn’t say that. She doesn’t have to know.

He lifts his head after a minute. She’s looking at him, and he knows she can tell that he isn’t sorry. He doesn’t have to say it.

She picks up another tissue and wipes his face tenderly, careful over the bruise on his cheek before she picks up the ice pack from his lap and holds it to his face. He takes it.

“We have ice cream,” she says. He blinks. “¿Quieres?”

She gets up before he answers, finding two bowls in a cabinet.

“You’re not mad at me?”

She sighs, getting the ice cream from the freezer. They haven’t even had dinner yet.

“I hate violence,” she says lightly. “But I hate assholes like that boy too.”

Will scoffs.

“I understand,” she says. “You weren’t thinking. You were upset because he hurt someone you care about.”

Will looks at the table. Someone he cares about. It seems like just such a light way to phrase it, even though he’s only known Nico for, like, a month.

“People make mistakes,” she continues. “And maybe scaring Nico was a mistake he made, but he didn’t seem very apologetic about it. And fighting him was a mistake on your part, but you know that.”

The spoons clink in the bowls. The freezer opens and shuts. And then she’s sitting next to him again, sliding a bowl in front of him. She’s half-smiling as she looks at him, and he’s crying again even though he doesn’t know why.

“I hate violence,” she says again, and her brows furrow as she leans in, her voice softening even more. “But I love how much you love, nene.”

He falls forward to lay his head on her shoulder.

“How is your Nico?” she asks. His cheeks flush.

“He’s not my Nico,” he mumbles, sitting up. She just hums.

He pulls his phone out and looks at it as she eats her ice cream.

bonechurch: where did you go?

Will bites his lip, looking at the message, and he doesn’t really want to tell him but he knows he’ll find out by tomorrow morning, probably.

willsoulless: i may have punched that guy in the face and gotten suspended

He takes a bite of his ice cream while Nico types.

bonechurch: ?????????????

willsoulless: yeah
willsoulless: i will not be at school tomorrow

Will bites his thumbnail, watching the Typing… that appears on his screen, and his mom reaches over to push his hand away from his mouth.

bonechurch: oh my god
bonechurch: are you serious

Will’s stomach twists, and he takes a deep breath, exhaling heavily. His ice cream is melting.

willsoulless: yeah
willsoulless: i was pissed at him
willsoulless: which obv isn’t like an excuse but
willsoulless: he was still laughing and i just kinda

He stops rambling, setting his phone down, the screen facing up, and he presses his hands to the table. His mom doesn’t look at the phone. She’s never done that, never peered over his shoulder or anything to look at what he’s doing unless he told her to. He’s always appreciated that.

He takes a bite of his ice cream as Nico types, lifting his legs up to cross them on his chair.

bonechurch: holy shit
bonechurch: i did not see that coming

willsoulless: sorry

bonechurch: oh im not mad
bonechurch: youre a badass

Will snorts and shakes his head.

bonechurch: 🖤🖤🖤my hero🖤🖤🖤

And Will has to close his eyes for a moment, his face flushing with heat. Nico seems so much braver when they’re not face to face, and so shy when they’re together. All blushy cheeks and averted eyes and shut ups instead of teasing heart emojis and (affectionate).

willsoulless: oh my god stop

bonechurch: no
bonechurch: my knight in shining armor 🖤🖤🖤
bonechurch: my guardian angel 🖤🖤🖤

willsoulless: leaving you on read

bonechurch: except you didnt

Will rolls his eyes and clicks his phone off, unsuccessfully suppressing a smile as he scoops ice cream into his mouth. His mom looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

“‘Not my Nico.’”

He blushes again.

“Whatever.”

His phone lights up with a notification, and he giggles into his bowl.

bonechurch: wow

His mom goes to bed early to catch up on sleep she missed from the night shift, and he cleans up the kitchen, quietly putting away dishes and closing cupboards. Lucita sits at the table watching, and she follows him when he goes to his room.

He didn’t really end up leaving Nico on read, replying to his messages between chores, smiling at his phone in a way that would make his mom (and Vincent and Dahlia) tease him relentlessly. But Lucita is the only one watching, so he allows himself to beam.

His phone lights up his room when he goes to bed, and Lucita curls up on top of his legs.

bonechurch: so
bonechurch: can you call me
bonechurch: i’m still not really talking but

Will’s stomach flutters, and he hesitates.

willsoulless: yeah ofc
willsoulless: is everything ok

bonechurch: yes i’m fine
bonechurch: i just kind of want to be near you
bonechurch: which doesn’t really make sense but

Will smiles at his screen, sighing before he calls him.

“Hi,” he whispers when he picks up, and Nico is quiet for a moment before he whispers back.

“Hi.”

His voice is so soft he’s almost just breathing, and Will closes his eyes, rolling onto his side slowly. Lucita moves to lie next to his legs.

“Are you falling asleep?” he whispers.

“...Mhmm.”

Will smiles again.

“You can go to sleep,” he murmurs. “I’m right here.”

Nico sighs.

Chapter Text

Will swings the dish towel in the air as he crosses the room again, drying his fingers before he hangs it up. It’s cloudy outside, a little grey, and he wishes it would rain.

Lucita sits on the counter, watching him as he puts the rest of the dishes away, her eyes unblinking, and Will wonders if she’s thinking about the change in routine. He wonders what she’d be doing if he was at school like he’s supposed to be, if she’d be taking a nap on his bed or on some windowsill, or if she’d be playing the cardboard tube in the hallway. Will stops after he finishes putting away the dishes, picking her up and flipping her onto her back as she meows brightly before he buries his face in her belly, sighing.

He sits in the living room, lounging on the sofa with Lucita on his chest, and she curls up into a roll, her face in his neck as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He scrolls back through the messages from the groupchat with Vincent and Dahlia. (The groupchat was titled a lesbian and her bitches a year ago and they still haven’t changed it.)

wokeuppretty: HELLO?

willsoulless: good morning

deafandunavoidable: HEY WHAT THE FUCK

willsoulless: good morning to you too

wokeuppretty: YOU FUCKING
wokeuppretty: PUNCHED SOME DUDE
wokeuppretty: WHAT

willsoulless: yeah hes a dick
willsoulless: i regret nothing

deafandunavoidable: OHHHH MYYYY GOOOODDDDDDDD

willsoulless: you have way too much energy for seven thirty in the morning

deafandunavoidable: IM LOSING MY MIND
deafandunavoidable: WHY ARE YOU THENFIRST ONE OFNUS TO GET IN A FIGHT

willsoulless: ok not the reaction i was expecting

wokeuppretty: LMAOOOOOO
wokeuppretty: wait willy do you have a black eye or anything are we allowed to laugh at this

willsoulless: stop calling me that
willsoulless: yes and yes

deafandunavoidable: PICS RN

Will had sent a selfie he took in the bathroom, eyes still squinting in the morning light that reflected off the white walls and mirror, hair still tousled from sleep, the bruise on his cheek now purple. He’s half-smiling in the photo, holding a thumbs-up.

wokeuppretty: hot

willsoulless: LMAO

deafandunavoidable: no hes right

willsoulless: i thought you didn’t know what cute boys are

deafandunavoidable: i didnt say you were cute
deafandunavoidable: has your boyfriend seen you yet

willsoulless: hes not my bf

wokeuppretty: but you know who we’re talking about 👀

willsoulless: idk what ur talking about

deafanunavoidable: answer the question william

willsoulless: no

deafandunavoidable: was that thr answer to the question or are yourefusing to answer the question

willsoulless: youre insufferable

They’re in class now, and he lets his head fall back against the armrest of the sofa, petting Lucita’s head as she purrs quietly. He doesn’t have any homework to do. He finished the assignments Nico dared him to do last night, sitting at the dining table with his mom while she cleaned and hummed along with the music playing from her phone. Will supposes there’s probably a long-term assignment he could work on, but he doesn’t want to get up.

But he’s forced to when the hears a loud buzz from the front door, and he sits up heavily, carrying Lucita in his arms.

“Solaces,” he says, his voice a little rough, as he hits the intercom button.

“Uh, hi.”

He pauses, finger still holding the button.

“...Nico?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

Will’s stomach flips, and he buzzes him in without another word. He leans against the table while he waits for him to come up, and he drops Lucita to open it. Nico is wearing a hoodie, and he pulls the hood down as he steps inside, looking up at Will, his eyes shining.

“Hey, are you okay?” Will asks, shutting the door behind him. Lucita rubs against Nico’s legs. “Why aren’t you at school?”

“Just…” Nico steps closer, and Will remembers the bruise on his cheek as Nico reaches up to it, his fingertips brushing over it lightly.

“I’m fine,” Will whispers, smiling.

Nico lowers his hand, his mouth twisting like he’s deep in thought, and he takes a breath.

“I, uhm. My dad called me in sick today.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I just. Wanted to see you.”

Will leans against the table again, looking at him.

“What’s up?”

Nico looks like he might cry, tense and pained, his lip between his teeth as he looks intently at Will. He’s wearing a jacket that’s too big for him, and his hands are stuffed in his pockets, and Will wants to hug him. But he just waits, holding the edge of the table. It’s kind of ironic, the contrast in how they dress, which Will noticed ages ago, obviously, but even now when Will is still in his pajamas, his only-at-home clothes, his pink cut-off shorts and the t-shirt that reads it’s a full-time job being a bitch (a birthday gift from Dahlia), and his mismatched fuzzy socks. (One is rainbow striped and the other is checkered, pink and purple.)

Nico’s hoodie has a ribcage on the front, the lines thin and reddish-orange, carefully painted with bleach and a tiny paintbrush. (Will knows without asking that Nico did it himself.) He’s wearing black joggers and his Converse, the laces tangled in messy bows, and his hair is messy, falling in his face. Will wants to push it back.

“I didn’t… I didn’t actually thank you,” Nico says finally, rocking up onto his toes and then back down again. Will blinks.

“You don’t—”

“No, just… let me.”

“...Okay.”

“I…” Nico swallows, looking down, his eyes following Lucita as she winds between his ankles affectionately. “Thank you. For… defending me. I didn’t— I don’t want you to get hurt, but you…” He’s looking at Will intently, desperately, “And— And thank you for… for protecting me? And getting me away from them? And helping me calm down, and being just so— so respectful when I couldn’t talk, and for making sure I was okay, and—”

“Hey,” Will interrupts softly, tilting his head and standing up straight. “It’s okay.”

“You…” Nico hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek, hands pushing farther into the pockets of his jacket. “I feel safe with you,” he says finally.

Will blinks, somehow surprised.

“And I think— I think that was the fastest I’ve ever calmed down during a panic attack, and it was like— like you knew exactly what to do, you did everything right and I just…” He looks close to tears, and Will steps forward, reaching out for him. He touches his face, brushes his thumbs over his cheeks, and Nico takes a breath.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” he says weakly, his voice softer now. “...I really like you. And I like being around you. And I just…” He blinks, and a tear falls down his cheek. Will wipes it away tenderly. “I feel, like, overwhelmed with it, with— with how I feel about you, but I can’t…” He blinks another tear out of his eye, and his voice shakes when he speaks again. “I need you.”

Will’s lip quivers, and he leans down to kiss Nico’s forehead softly, feeling Nico let out a shuddering breath before he presses their foreheads together. Nico’s eyes are closed, and he’s biting his lip, eyebrows furrowed like he’s trying not to cry.

His hands find Will’s waist after a moment, his fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

“I need you too,” Will whispers, because it’s the only way he can say it. That he’s overwhelmed by it too, almost claustrophobic, surrounded by it. It feels so fucking intense, way more intense than it should be after such a short about of time, but Will can’t bring himself to care that it’s a little ridiculous when Nico shudders again and hugs him, arms wrapped tight around Will’s neck. Will hugs his waist so tightly that he lifts him up a little bit, Nico’s legs hanging down as he buries his face in Will’s neck.

Will sighs, swaying, holding Nico tightly, and his eyes squeeze shut when Nico’s hand presses into his hair.

When he finally lowers him, they part slowly, their faces close, and Nico keeps one hand on Will’s neck. His fingers are cold. His other hand wipes his own face as he exhales, and Will smiles, kissing his forehead again. They’re quiet, breathing slowly, just holding each other, until Lucita meows from the floor, and Nico looks at her, smiling weakly.

“She wants in,” Will says, and Nico laughs lightly, stepping back as Will bends down to pick her up, and he reaches to pet her head as Will cradles her. Will looks over her at Nico. His eyes are still wet, but he seems so much lighter now, relaxed and tired and soft. “You wanna watch a movie?”

Nico nods. Will gestures with a tilt of his head.

Nico kicks his shoes off and sorts them by the door as he takes off his jacket and hangs it up before he follows Will to his room. (His socks have spiderwebs on them.)

They climb into the bed as Lucita waits at the end of it, watching them, and Will pulls his laptop up from where it’s sitting under his nightstand. Nico taps his fingers on his leg to call to Lucita, who bounces over happily before plopping herself in Nico’s lap.

Nico moves closer when the movie starts. (Ponyo, because Nico’s never seen it, to Will’s horror.) Their arms press, and Will reaches into his nightstand to pull out the bag of Sour Patch Kids he has stashed there next to his weed. Nico nibbles at them slowly, his other hand petting Lucita’s head as she purrs.

“Will,” he says after a while, his voice soft.

“Yeah?” Will whispers, like they’re in a theatre instead of in his room alone.

“…Bianca would have liked you.”

Will blinks, sorrow flooding his chest, and he wants to cry. He wishes he could have met her.

He moves closer, lifting an arm to put it around Nico’s shoulders, and Nico leans into him, sighing as he relaxes against him.

“I think I would have liked her too.”

Nico nods, sighing again, bending his knees to curl into himself, gently pulling Lucita up to his chest. She lays her head on his shoulder. Will kisses Nico’s head.

They’re halfway through their second movie when Will's phone buzzes, and he pulls it out of his pocket.

wokeuppretty: haven’t seen nico today
wokeuppretty: hmmmmmmmmm
wokeuppretty: 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Will smiles, his cheek squishing against the top of Nico’s head.

“Ni?”

“Hm?”

“Is it cool if I tell my friends about us?”

“…The cartoon character?” he asks, sounding sleepy.

“Yeah, and one other.”

“Mm. Yeah.”

Will moves his phone to take a picture, and Nico looks over at the camera, still curled up against Will, around Lucita. He hides his face with his hand, flipping the camera off. Will smiles.

“Nice.”

He sends it and holds the phone out so Nico can see. Nico’s eyes skim the messages above the photo, and he smiles. And then he’s giggling as messages flood the chat.

wokeuppretty: HELLO?????
wokeuppretty: OH MY FUCKING GOD
wokeuppretty: I WAS JOKING

deafandunavoidable: AREBYOU SHITTING MEEEEEEEEE
deafandunavoidable: UOU FUCKING GUYS

wokeuppretty: WILLIAM
wokeuppretty: WHAT IS HAPPENING

deafandunavoidable: ARE WE IN A AIMULATION
deafandunavoidable: THERES NONWAYBYOU GOT A FUCKING BOFRIEND BEFORE I GOT A GIRLFIRND
deafandunavoidble: FUCK YOU

Will laughs into Nico’s hair as Nico comments, “She isn’t very good at typing.”

willsoulless: YOU DONT TALK TO GIRLS THAT IS NOT MY FAULT
willsoulless: also goodbye i will text you later were watching movies

wokeuppretty: Watching Movies
wokeuppretty: we all know what that's code for

willsoulless: oh my god goodbye

deafandunavoidable: YUCKY!!!

Will rolls his eyes and sets his phone aside, kissing Nico’s temple as Nico giggles again.

“They’re funny.”

“They’re chaotic,” Will says. “But they’re cool.” He squeezes his arm gently, laying on his head for a moment again as they watch the movie.

“William,” Nico murmurs after a minute.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Nico says lightly. “‘S funny.”

“My name’s funny?”

“Mm. ‘S fancy.”

“You don’t think I’m fancy?”

“Have you seen what you’re wearing today?”

Will snorts.

“You wanna know who gave it to me?”

“Who?”

“Dahlia. The cartoon character.”

Nico snickers quietly.

“I like her.”

“You should meet her,” Will says softly. “If you wanna have lunch with us next week.”

Nico presses his face into his shoulder.

“Okay.”

He sighs, resting against Will, and they watch the movie.

Will makes them lunch later while Nico watches, legs crossed on the chair he sits on.

“I finished my homework, by the way,” Will says, flipping over one of the sandwiches.

“The one I dared you to do?”

“Mhmm. Did it last night.”

He looks over at Nico. His chin is resting on his palm, his elbow on the table.

“Knew you could do it,” he says dreamily, sighing the words, and Will laughs softly, lifting the spatula like a microphone.

“I’d like to thank my lovely boyfriend,” he says, “who always believed in me.” Nico giggles, ducking his head, his hair falling in his face, and Will grins, turning back toward the stove before the sandwich can burn.

When Will sits with him, setting their plates on the table and nudging Lucita away as she inches closer curiously, Nico looks at him. His eyes are wide, and Will pauses, tilting his head at him.

“Hi,” he says lightly.

Nico smiles.

“Hi,” he says softly.

He gazes at Will for another moment before he moves, reaching to hold Will’s chin as he leans forward and presses a soft, soft, soft kiss to the bruise on Will’s face. Will’s eyes flutter shut, and he feels Nico pull back just enough to look at him, and then Nico is kissing his cheek again, his lips curved into a smile as they press to Will’s skin. His fingers are gentle on Will’s chin, holding him in place as he presses kisses across his cheek fondly.

And then he pauses before he presses one last kiss to the corner of Will’s mouth, and then he leans back into his seat, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite as Will opens his eyes. His face is hot.

Nico is smiling.

“You’re such a tease,” he grumbles, and Nico just sways back and forth happily.

They go back to watching movies.

Nico lays on his chest, curled up as small as he can be, and Will plays with his hair, barely paying any actual attention to the movie because he can feel each of Nico’s breaths.

His mom stays out late, getting dinner with her friends, so Will orders takeout, and he and Nico eat sitting on his floor. Will teases him about his hair. Nico calls him Rapunzel and reaches out to tug the ends of his hair.

They watch another movie.

Nico holds the rabbit against himself, and Will can sense him drifting off. He smiles, shifting down so Nico can lie on his shoulder.

“Will?” Nico mumbles after a while.

“Mhmm?”

“Is it okay if I stay over?”

“‘Course, honey.”

Nico hums and shifts closer, wrapping his arm around Will’s waist, and Will holds him close. Nico moves after a moment, pulling his phone out to text Hazel, eyes squinting, and then he reaches to set his phone on the nightstand before he rests against Will again, sighing. He falls asleep.

He doesn’t wake up when Will carefully moves away, using his hands to move Nico so he’s lying down and setting the rabbit in front of him. It’s earlier than it usually is when Will goes to bed, and his mom is still out, so he cleans the dishes he and Nico used for lunch and dinner, putting them away as quietly as he can, and he sends her a text.

Will: hi just letting you know nico came over and hes spending the night
Will: so youre not wondering why a strange boy is in our house when you get back

She responds as he’s going to pick up Lucita, humming back as she meows sleepily at him.

Mami: Nico? Tu Nico? Strange?

He sighs, glancing up as he shuts his bedroom door. The room is dim, lit up by one of the lamps, and Nico is sleeping, the rabbit now held to his face.

Will: …si

Mami: Si????? Si tuyo o si extraño?

Will: both
Will: es mi novio

He climbs into bed, setting Lucita down, and she crawls over to where Nico is lying, crawling in a circle before she plops down next to him, her face resting on his forearm.

Mami: 🎊🎊🎊💞💞💞👏🙌🙏

Will shakes his head as he lies down, smiling, his face burning. He reaches to switch off the lamp.

Will: okay calm down

Mami: I want to meet him!!!

Will: you will
Will: hes shy though
Will: act normal

Mami: Por su puesto
Mami: Go to sleep, nene

Will: have fun w your friends
Will: love you

Mami: I love you 💞

Will sets his phone on the nightstand, his eyes straining to see in the dim light from the city outside, and then he sighs, carefully, slowly lifting the blanket and setting it over himself. Nico is still curled up into a ball, similar to how Lucita is, and Will wants to hold him, but he doesn’t want to wake him up. He closes his eyes, sighing and listening to the cars pass outside.

Nico shifts after a while, rolling onto his back, and Will opens his eyes to check on him, but Nico is just reaching blindly for Will’s arm, grabbing at it weakly and then pulling it so it’s draped over his waist as he rolls back over. Will smiles, pulling him close so his back presses to Will’s chest, and Nico hums softly. Will shifts to move his other arm, and Nico lifts his head enough for Will to slide it under him so he’s holding Nico in his arms. Nico sighs.

They’re still laying the same way when Will wakes up, his face buried in Nico’s hair. He feels so warm here, even though it’s grey and windy outside, even though Nico is perpetually cold. Will sits up slowly, hearing a shuffle in the hall and a meow by the door, and he presses a soft kiss to Nico’s shoulder before he gets up.

Lucita is by his door when he opens it, and he stoops to scratch the top of her head.

“Morning, Mami.”

“Morning, cariño.”

She’s eating breakfast, scooping oatmeal into her mouth as she types something on her phone one-handed. He leans down to kiss her forehead and he tilts her head up to let him, eyes trained on her phone.

“Nico is asleep still?” she asks.

“Mhmm. Little sleeping beauty.”

She snorts, looking up at him.

“You’re in lo-o-ove…”

He rolls his eyes, reaching down to snatch a strawberry from her bowl. She tries to stab his hand with her spoon but misses.

“When did he come over yesterday?” she asks.

“‘Round ten-ish.” He sits next to her. “He called in sick.”

“For love,” she says dreamily, swaying toward him, and he blushes, rolling his eyes as he pushes her way. She’s giggling. “What did you do?”

“Watched like seventy-five movies. Cuddled.”

“Netflix and chill?” she says, scooping more oatmeal into her mouth, and he recoils as she laughs again.

“God, stop,” he says, pushing at her shoulder.

“No homework?”

“I finished it after we ate that ice cream.”

“Ah.” She gives him a look. “Okay.”

“I did,” he insists. She raises her hands in surrender.

“Okay.” She takes one more bite of her oatmeal before she passes the bowl over to Will. There are still some berries left in it. “I need to change.”

“I got the dishes.”

“Thank you, nene.” She disappears down the hallway and Will nibbles at the berries, holding a strawberry out when Lucita hops onto the table and paws at his arm. When he finishes he goes to the sink, sighing as he starts washing the dishes.

He’s almost finished when he hears Nico’s voice say his name softly, the floor creaking by the doorway, and Will turns a little, rinsing the bowl.

“Morning, sunshine,” Will says lightly. setting the bowl aside. “How’d you sleep?”

Nico doesn’t say anything, and Will turns to look at him. He’s rubbing his cheek, his hair messy, and one of his hands is holding the stuffed rabbit.

“Hey, you okay?” Will asks, grabbing the dish towel to dry his hands. Nico looks at him, his mouth twisting almost thoughtfully, and then he holds his arms up. “What’s wrong?”

He tosses the towel aside and then wraps his arms around him, running a hand over the top of his head as Nico tucks his face into his neck, his hands finding Will’s waist.

“Had a nightmare,” he says finally, voice muffled by Will’s neck. Will tightens his arms around him.

“‘M sorry, honey,” he whispers, and he kisses the side of his head. Nico is shaking a little bit, his trembling just perceptible, and Will aches. “I got you.”

He knows Nico is crying, and he runs his hand over his hair again.

“You alright?” he asks after a moment. Nico nods, sniffling, gripping Will’s t-shirt in a fist.

“Yeah. Sorry.” He doesn’t pull away.

“You don’t have to apologize, Ni,” Will whispers, running his fingers through his hair, untangling it gently. “‘S okay.”

They only part when Will’s mom comes back into the kitchen.

“¿Qué pasa?” she asks gently when her eyes meet Will’s, and Nico pulls away, startling. He wipes his cheek with the side of his hand, sniffling, his cheeks turning pink, and Will touches his back lightly. “What did you do?” she asks Will, and he lets out an offended noise as Nico laughs wetly, wiping his cheek again.

“I didn’t do anything,” Will says, and she narrows her eyes at him.

“I just had a— a bad dream,” Nico says, his voice quiet, and she touches his cheek lightly.

“Aye, darling,” she says softly before she moves past them, reaching for a cabinet. “I have just the thing.”

“This is her cure-all,” Will tells Nico, rubbing his back gently. Nico smiles up at him, and then he looks down as Lucita paws at his leg. Will bends down to pick her up.

Nico pets her head and smiles when she tilts her head into his palm.

He’s still shaking a little bit, but he breathes slowly as he scratches behind her ears, and Will leans over her to kiss Nico’s forehead.

“Here you are,” Will’s mom says brightly after a few minutes, holding a mug with a teabag hanging out of it. “Three minutes for this one, right?” she asks Will, moving the mug to the table carefully, and he hums affirmatively. She looks at Nico, who’s still petting Lucita’s head, and she puts a hand over her heart.

“Lucita le gusta Nico,” Will says lightly, and Nico looks up at him, eyes shining.

“¿Si?” She comes up close and touches Nico’s cheek again fondly before she looks into his eyes intently, tilting his head down to look at her. (They’re almost the same height, but not quite.) “You have Lucita’s approval. You’re a Solace now.”

Nico laughs again, his eyes squeezing shut as he giggles, and Will snorts.

She leans up to kiss Will’s cheek and then leans down to kiss Lucita’s head. Lucita meows.

“I have to go to work,” she says moving to the front door and finding her shoes on the shoerack. “But you should come for dinner sometime, okay?”

“Yeah,” Nico says, still smiling a little, now holding the rabbit to his chest, arms hugging it. “Okay.”

He leans against Will when she leaves (“Have a good day, darlings!”), and Will shifts Lucita into one arm to hold him.

“You want your tea?”

Nico hums quietly.

They sit at the table together. Nico brings his feet up onto his chair, his knees drawn to his chest with the rabbit in his lap, as he sips the tea slowly.

“You hungry?” Will asks as he holds Lucita to his chest. Nico shakes his head after a moment of hesitation.

“I’m never really hungry in the morning,” he says quietly. “Maybe later.”

“Okay,” Will says softly. “...Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks after a moment.

Nico looks at his tea, exhaling.

“You don’t have to,” Will whispers, leaning a little closer. Nico glances at him and then back at the tea, shaking his head.

“‘S okay, just… It was the accident.”

Will’s chest hurts. He nods.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Nico says softly, swirling the tea around. “Just… Wanted you to know.”

Will’s gaze somehow softens even more.

“‘S okay,” he says again. He strokes Lucita’s head, and then she crawls out of his arms and stalks across the table like she can sense how Nico is feeling, and she rubs her head against his knee. He smiles, reaching out to pet her. “You wanna start the day or are you tired?” Will asks after a moment as Nico tips his head back to finish the tea. “You wanna go lay down?”

Nico hesitates, rocking back and forth as he scratches Lucita’s head before he speaks again, quiet and shy.

“Can we go back to bed?”

Will smiles.

“Yeah. ‘Course.”

Nico stands slowly, pushing the mug away, and Will takes it to the sink, tossing the teabag into the trash as he passes before he goes back. Nico is still holding the rabbit, smiling down at Lucita. He looks up at Will when he comes closer, and Will gazes, tilting his head. Nico reaches up and touches his cheek, just under the bruise, and then he’s lifting onto his tiptoes, tilting his chin up as he pulls Will’s face closer. He kisses the bruise softly. His mouth and fingers are warm from the tea. He’s blushing when he pulls away.

Will leans down and wraps his arms around Nico’s waist, pausing so Nico can hug his neck, and then he lifts him up, sliding a hand down his hip to tug at his thigh, gesturing for him to wrap them around his hips. Nico does, burying his face in Will’s neck, and Will smiles, carrying him back to his room. Lucita follows.

“There we go,” Will says lightly as he goes to set Nico on the bed, but Nico’s limbs tighten around him and pull him down as he lets out a soft, “Mm.”

So Will lowers himself down on top of him, smiling as Nico sighs.

“‘M not too heavy?” Will whispers after a moment.

“Mm-mm.” Nico exhales, one of his hands pressing into Will’s hair. “Feels good.”

Will’s smile widens.

“...Okay.”

Nico falls asleep again, his legs around Will’s waist, his hand heavy on his head. Will presses his face into his neck, and he can hear his pulse, steady and slow and somehow beautiful, and he can feel his chest rise and fall with every breath. Lucita crawls onto Will’s back, and he has to consciously hold back a laugh as she settles.

—————

Will’s bruise is starting to fade a little by the time Monday comes around, but it’s still there, in shades of purple and blue and yellow. Vincent tugs him close to look at it when he gets to school, looking at it with his lips parted in awe.

“Wild that you’re the first one to get in a fight,” he says. Dahlia pokes at him for a turn to analyze Will’s face.

“Why are we shocked that it’s me?” he asks, leaning down for her to look. She touches it lightly. “Ow.”

“You’re the resident sunshine boy,” she says, patting his other cheek and letting him stand up straight.

“Vincent’s blond too.”

“Not naturally,” Vincent says, grinning when Will makes a face at him. “Also you have freckles.”

Will makes a face at him.

Vincent teases him the whole day, calling him the resident badass, and Will ignores him, rolling his eyes, and he ignores everyone else too. The stares in the hallways, the hushed whispers, the gestures in his direction.

He doesn’t see the boy he fought, but he sees his friends. He ignores them too.

Dahlia takes a picture of him when he sits with her in the cafeteria during lunch, touching his chin to make him turn his face towards her.

“My mom wants to see.”

“You told your mom Will got in a fight?” Vincent says, his voice muffled from the sandwich he’s eating.

“I tell my mom everything,” she says lightly, looking down at her phone after taking a picture.

He leans over to look at it, suppressing a smile as he watches her press edit and draw a few sparkles around the bruise, but before he can say anything a hand lands gently on his shoulder, and he looks up to find Nico sliding into the seat next to him, holding his shoulder gently.

“Hi.”

Will lights up, almost gasping, and Nico smiles softly at him, his hand sliding into his hair and tugging gently.

“Hi, honey.”

Vincent starts cooing loudly, obnoxiously, and Will drops his smile, looking at the ceiling as though praying for strength, and Nico giggles lightly, tugging his hair again.

“God, it’s like you’re eighty,” Dahlia says, looking up at Will and making a face. He sticks his tongue out at her. “Hi, Nico.”

“Hi,” he says lightly, dropping his hand from where it’s lingering in Will’s hair. He’s sitting so close to Will, his arm pressing to Will’s, and Will nudges him lightly, eliciting a shy smile and blushy cheeks. He nudges him back.

“My mom says you’re still handsome,” Dahlia says after checking her phone, and Will snorts.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Nico, how are you?” Vincent asks brightly, his voice muffled because his mouth is full, and Nico tilts his head at him.

“I’m okay,” he says softly. “Will said I should come sit with you guys.”

Will elbows him, and he elbows him back, his smile widening.

“I think Will is just tired of us,” Dahlia says. “He doesn’t love us anymore.”

“Untrue,” Will says dryly.

“No, it’s true,” Vincent says lightly. “He told me himself.”

“Wha— When?”

“Last week,” Vincent says like it’s obvious. “And it was over text, you son of a bitch.”

Dahlia is snickering, opening a bag of Cheetos, and Will stares at them before turning his head to fix a look on Nico, who looks back, his eyes shining. He shrugs.

“I believe him.”

Will splutters, and Nico giggles. That might be Will’s favorite sound, Nico laughing like this. So light, careless. Beautiful.

“Nico, what’s your favorite band?” Vincent asks after a moment, passing his chip bag to Dahlia and grabbing her Cheetos. She wrinkles her nose, sliding his across the table and snatching the Cheetos back. Nico laughs lightly as he watches.

“Uh,” he says, pausing. He rubs his cheek awkwardly, and Will reaches over to him under the table, touching his knee and squeezing lightly. “I really like Slipknot,” Nico says, reaching to take his hand, lacing their fingers carefully. “And, uhm, Korn. Metallica. …Yeah.”

Vincent stares for a long moment before he gets up abruptly, tugging at the puffy sleeve of Dahlia’s cardigan, ignoring her eyeroll and heavy sigh. She slides into where he was sitting so he can take her place in front Nico, who watches with wide eyes.

“What’s your favorite song?” Vincent asks, leaning across the table, and Nico grins, his hand tightening on Will’s.

Will smiles and looks across at Dahlia, who’s already looking back at him with wide eyes as she eats her Cheetos slowly. Will raises an eyebrow as Vincent and Nico talk quietly.

You’re in love, Dahlia signs between bites. Will’s face flushes with heat and he rolls his eyes like she’s being ridiculous. And he looks back at Nico, who’s holding onto his arm with his other hand now, leaning so his chest is touching the edge of the table to focus on what Vincent is saying. His eyes are wide as he listens, and Will gets stuck looking at him, at the angle of his nose, at the slope of his neck. At the strands of hair that have escaped the messy bun he’s tied his hair up in.

Will looks back at Dahlia. Her eyebrows are raised. Will just lowers his head to the table.

—————

He’s having a bad day.

Not for any particular reason. It’s just one of those days.

Will wakes up to his alarm going off on his bedside table and Lucita climbing across his bodyy, and he just wants to shut his phone off and hug her to his chest and fall back asleep so he doesn’t have to deal with… this.

But he has a quiz today in chemistry that he can’t miss because Mr Miller is an asshole who would never let him make it up.

So he just sighs and looks at the ceiling for a few seconds, running his hand over Lucita’s back, before he sits up and reaches to turn off his alarm, squeezing his eyes shut and groaning quietly. He feels like his body is sore even though he doesn’t really a have a reason to be sore.

He sets up after a few minutes, making his way to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine, getting out his mom’s travel mug and his own mug. It’s his favorite, blue with painted on fluffy clouds.

His mom comes in as he’s pouring the coffee, and she presses a kiss to his cheek when he leans down a little for her.

“¿Qué pasa?” she asks gently, touching his face like she’s feeling his temperature. He half-smiles, setting the coffee pot down and shrugging.

“Nada.”

Her lips thin as she presses them together, worry shining in her eyes the way it always does when she notices him feeling like this. He smiles again, leaning to touch their foreheads.

“Estoy cansado, Mami,” he says softly. “Esta bien.”

She touches his cheek.

“Vale.” She pauses to look at him for a moment, tilting her head. “Tell Nico I say hello, si?”

“Vale, vale.” He kisses her forehead and passes the travel mug across the counter. “Don’t be late.”

“I’ve never been late,” she says haughtily, reaching to the sugar. “Except when I was in labor with you,” she adds, nudging her hips into his, and he laughs.

She kisses his cheek before she goes, and he sighs, listening to the door shut before he leans down onto the counter, closing his eyes.

Vincent is the first to see him when he gets to school.

“How you feel?” he asks like always, and Will says, “Tired.” Like always.

“Of?”

Will doesn’t look at him, but he pauses as he straightens his books in his locker, and he shrugs.

Vincent sets his chin on Will’s shoulder, looking at him so closely it makes Will snort.

“Would a hug help?”

Will exhales and lets his head fall to rest on Vincent’s before Vincent stands up straight and opens his arms for Will to lean against him. Vincent’s arms wrap around him tightly, and Will closes his eyes, sighing. He kind of wishes he could stay here all day, his face tucked in Vincent’s neck, breathing slowly as Vincent’s hands run up and down his back gently. He smells like cinnamon.

They sway there, and without pulling away, Will pushes his locker shut before he reaches to hold onto Vincent’s arm, his fingers gripping the worn denim of his jacket for a moment before he takes another deep breath. Vincent presses a kiss to his temple when he pulls away.

“Just gotta get through today,” Will says quietly, rubbing his face. He’s so tired.

“You got anything to look forward to?” Vincent asks, leaning against the locker next to Will’s, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Uh,” Will sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe Mom will bring pizza for dinner.”

Vincent hums, looking past Will down the hallway, and he half-smiles.

“I know something you can look forward to,” he says, and Will raises an eyebrow before Vincent gestures down the hall with a jerk of his chin. Will turns, and he can feel himself lighten when he sees Nico approaching.

Nico smiles at him, swerving to avoid a student that passing by, and Will exhales, already holding his arm out.

“Hi,” Nico says, stepping under his arm and pressing close to him, shifting so he’s holding his crutch of the way. Will wraps his arm around him, lowering his face to press his cheek to the top of his head, and Nico sighs.

“How’re you?” Will asks softly.

“I’m okay,” Nico says. Will is suddenly glad he came to school today. “How are you?”

He looks up at Will, who touches his face, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear tenderly.

“Uh.” Will exhales, gazing at him. “Not great, but…”

He always does that. Includes a but. Downplays it so his friends and his mom don’t worry. But Nico sees right through him, and he tilts his head, blinking his eyes at Will like he’s waiting.

“Not great,” Will says. He glances toward Vincent, but Vincent is gone now, and Will almost wanted to laugh.

“What would help?” Nico asks lightly, nudging Will’s side with his hand. Will looks at him. There’s eyeliner smudged around his eyes, and his cheeks are pink like’s he’s blushing just standing close to Will. He’s wearing a Ghost t-shirt, oversized even over his black hoodie, and his hair is tied back out of his face.

“You’re already helping,” Will says softly. He doesn’t mean to say it. But Nico’s lips twitch into a smile, and he lets his head fall to Will’s shoulder.

“Do you wanna come over after school?” Nico asks when he lifts his head, looking at Will nervously.

“…To yours?”

Nico nods. He fidgets with one of the strings of Will’s hoodie, twisting it around his finger.

“Yeah,” Will says, gazing at him. “Sure.”

Nico’s eyes shine, and he smiles, and somehow Will already feels better. Will reaches to touch his face, brushing his thumb over his cheek lightly, tender and gentle, and Nico’s eyelashes flutter as he blinks at him.

And Will wants to kiss him, but they’re in the crowded school hallway, standing against Will’s locker, and he can’t do that here.

Nico turns his face into Will’s hand and kisses his palm.

He kisses his palm.

Will’s throat tightens, and his eyes sting suddenly, and he exhales shakily. Nico tilts his head again, and he seems to get it. He leans in and presses his face into Will’s neck, hugging him tightly, and Will wraps his arms around him, closing his eyes and sighing heavily.

“I’ll see you in history,” Nico says softly when the bell rings. Will nods, taking another breath, kissing Nico’s cheek before they part.

Will is tired all day. He always feels tired when he feels like this, tired like he wants to just lay in bed even though he knows he wouldn’t be able to sleep. That he would end up staring at the ceiling or the wall, or scrolling on his phone until he’s numb.

He only smiles when he sees Nico in history, when Nico approaches their desks and reaches out to touch the top of Will’s head, threading his fingers in his hair and tugging lightly, shaking Will’s head a little bit fondly. Will can’t help but smile, letting him.

The class is quiet while Katz talks, flipping through a slideshow, and Will stares at the ground. He doesn’t try to follow along, doesn’t take notes like he usually does. He only realizes he’s picking the skin off his lips when Nico’s hand touches his, gently pulling it away. Will blinks and looks at him, and he realizes there’s blood on his lip. He wipes it away on his other hand, cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but Nico just squeezes his hand.

Will watches while Nico glances across the room, at Katz reading off a slide, at the students with their heads down, the students talking quietly with each other, and then Nico is sliding his chair closer to Will’s, putting his notebook on Will’s desk.

Will moves to make space for him, wiping his mouth again, and then Nico is taking his hand again, holding it gently. There’s a tiny bit of blood on his fingertips, and Nico wipes it away carefully.

Nico caresses his hand, tracing his knuckles so lightly it almost tickles, and Will watches.

“Can I draw on your hand?” Nico whispers softly.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Nico smiles and reaches for Will’s pen, gently moving Will’s hand so it’s palm-down, flat on the cool surface of the desk. Nico leans over his arm, and Will can feel his breath on his hand, and he watches as Nico carefully draws on the back of his hand, as bones appear in black ink, messy and sketched out on his skin. It looks awfully good, and Will wonders how often Nico’s drawn this on himself or on paper for him to be able to do it so well without a reference in front of him.

Nico pauses when the outlines are done, looking at it before he glances up at Will. He does a sort of double take, looking up at Will again and making a frustrated face, pressing his lips together as he reaches up and smacks Will's other hand away from his mouth.

Will drops his hand sharply, suppressing a smile. His lower lip hurts. He hadn’t even noticed himself peeling the skin away. Nico looks at his mouth, moving the pen to his other hand before he reaches up and presses his thumb into Will’s lip, wiping the blood away carefully.

Will lets him.

Nico wipes the blood off on his jeans before he goes back to Will’s hand, adding details and shading to the bones. Will watches, sliding his other hand under his leg to keep it away from his mouth.

When Nico finishes, he pauses again, looking at the bones. Then he turns Will’s hand over and traces his wrist lightly, his fingertip skimming just over his skin, across the bluish green lines of his veins where the sleeve of his hoodie has ridden up. Will watches as he touches them, as he looks and looks and almost fucking gazes at them. Nico lowers his head to rest his chin on his own forearm, still looking as he pulls Will’s hand closer, running his thumb back and forth over his skin like he thinks it’s beautiful.

Will looks at the drawing for the rest of the day. The lines of it blur a little from his sleeve falling over his hand, but he likes how it looks.

They meet after school by the front doors, and Will pauses a few moments to let a group of students pass by, headed toward the buses. Nico waits by the doors.

“Hi,” he says lightly, reaching to pull Will in by his hoodie, kissing his cheek. Will thinks the stars have taken pity on him. That’s the only explanation for this, for the prettiest boy Will’s ever seen in his entire life kissing Will's cheek. “You okay?”

“Mhmm,” Will hums, tucking Nico’s hair back. “Tired.”

“You still wanna come over?”

“Yeah,” Will says without even thinking. Nico smiles.

He holds Will’s hand as they head toward his apartment building, and Will texts his mom one-handed to let her know he’s going to Nico’s. It’s a quiet walk, like Nico can sense that Will doesn’t really feel like talking, and Will focuses on the feeling of Nico’s fingers laced with his, the feeling of Nico’s thumbs brushing back and forth over Will’s skin.

The building Nico lives in is big. The lobby is all shiny, freshly cleaned and smelling like citrus and cleaning chemicals. Will looks around as Nico leads him toward the elevators, and then he looks around the elevators. The ground is red, velvety-looking, and one of the walls is a mirror, spotless and only interrupted with a brass handlebar. Nico hits the button for the top floor.

Nico leans against him as the elevator jolts into motion smoothly, and Will wraps his arms around him, presses a hand across his waist and tilting his head down to press his lips to Nico’s forehead when Nico sighs softly.

Will lifts his other hand to touch his face, brushing his fingers across his jaw. He smiles when Nico fishes his phone out of his jacket pocket and opens his camera, lifting the phone to take a picture.

Nico hums softly when he looks at the photo, lifting it so Will can see. Nico’s face is partially hidden by the phone, and Will’s face isn’t visible, but his hands are, caressing Nico’s face, holding his waist.

“Soft launch,” Nico says. Will laughs quietly.

“That would do numbers on Pinterest.”

Nico smiles, lifting the phone again and tilting his head onto Will’s shoulder, snapping another picture when Will kisses his forehead.

“You’re sweet,” Will murmurs as the elevator comes to a stop, dinging cheerfully. Nico snorts, shaking his head.

Will exhakes when they enter the apartment, pausing to take his shoes off and set them next to Nico’s before he looks around, following Nico slowly, his eyes scanning the whole apartment. The floor to ceiling windows that show the whole city, every building that reflects the afternoon sunlight. There’s art on the walls, colourless abstract paintings in plain white frames that match the white furniture. The grey rug in the living room. The grey pot that’s home to a plant that Will already knows is plastic.

He doesn’t know what he expects Nico’s room to look like, but he feels oddly disappointed when Nico leads him in. It’s so… empty.

The windows are the same as in the living room, but some have the blinds pulled down, and there are a few boxes stacked in a corner, the top one open. There are some clothes scattered around the room, on the ground and on his desk chair, and there are pieces of paper on the desk and the floor that Nico picks up after dropping his backpack.

Will supposes he expected more… Nico. Music posters and artwork, drawings and paint stains. But the walls are bare, an odd shade of grey that’s almost white but not quite. He looks around as Nico tidies up, kicking his clothes into a pile.

On top of his dresser is where Will finds him. A glass jar holding incense sticks and a wooden incense holder covered in ash. A small blue vase full of wilting flowers, a few petals scattered around it. A photo frame.

Will looks closer curiously, and Nico glances at him, picking something up off the ground. He doesn’t say anything.

The photo frame is gold and silver. It looks old, faded. It’s pretty.

Will’s eyes focus on the photo. He recognizes Nico right away, even though it’s clear the photo is a few years old; Nico’s hair is shorter, his face softer. He’s smiling. His arm is around a girl, and Will’s heart aches as he recognizes her too. She has the same eyes as Nico, her hair similar to his hair right now, dark and shoulder-length and a little bit curly at the ends. She’s smiling too. The smiles look real, like they’re both about to burst into laughter, like they know something the photographer doesn’t.

Will wonders if Nico used to smile like that a lot.

He looks away after a moment, turning to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, and he goes to join him, setting his backpack on the ground.

“What do you wanna do?” Nico asks.

Will shrugs.

“What do you do when you feel like particular shit?” he asks softly. Nico looks at him for a moment, hesitating, and something flashes in his eyes that Will doesn’t like.

“...Listen to music,” he says. Will looks at him.

“Let’s do that.”

“My music,” Nico specifies, raising his eyebrows, a smile teasing his lips, and Will smiles, nodding.

“Let’s do that.”

Nico lets out a soft laugh, and he leans to touch his forehead to Will’s shoulder.

“Okay.”

“Where do you listen to music?” Will asks, raising a hand to touch the back of Nico’s head, pressing his fingers into his hair.

“The floor.”

Will blinks, his hand pausing as he remembers the time Will called him. Nico saying the floor was comfortable. And he wonders if Nico felt like particular shit when he texted Will that he was bored.

“Okay,” he says softly.

He lowers to the floor while Nico takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of his desk chair, while Nico finds a small speaker on his desk and connects it to his phone. Will lays on his back, sighing heavily, looking at the ceiling. It’s just white. He adjusts his hood so it isn’t bunched up under his neck, pulling it over his head before he relaxes again, letting one of his arms drape across his stomach.

The music starts, and Will can feel Nico looking at him, waiting nervously. Will just smiles and sighs again, closing his eyes.

The music is heavy, and loud, and intense. The volume would be too high to play in Will’s apartment without a complaint from a neighbor, but it seems fine here.

Will hears Nico lay on the ground next to him. He can still feel him looking at him.

And then he feels Nico’s hand slip into his, and their fingers lace, and it feels so fucking soft compared to the music, and maybe that’s just who Nico is. Will brushes his thumb over Nico’s skin softly. His hands are always a little cold.

Will feels like he could fall asleep, even with the music, with Nico’s hand in his, with Nico breathing so softly, quietly.

After a few long songs, Nico shifts, and his hand pulls away from Will’s. Will cracks his eyes open to look at him curiously. He’s got himself propped up on one elbow, looking at Will with furrowed, thoughtful brows. Will doesn’t say anything.

And then Nico is reaching out with his other hand, pushing Will’s arm out of the way before he moves closer, letting his head rest on Will’s chest. Will smiles, wrapping an arm around him and running it over Nico’s back as Nico relaxes against him, his hand resting on his chest in front of his face. Will’s stomach flutters, and he’s awfully conscious of the way his heart speeds up because Nico is laying on him, because he’s sighing softly and reaching for one of the strings of Will’s hoodie, flicking it between his fingers. And Will knows they’re boyfriends, but God, he has such a crush on him. Nico notices his heart speed up.

“Shut up,” Will says dryly when Nico snorts, and Nico just giggles.

“I didn’t say anything,” he says, and Will can hear the amusement in his voice.

“And you don’t have to.”

Nico giggles again, pressing closer, nuzzling his face into Will’s chest.

“Me too,” he whispers softly after a moment, and Will only just hears it over the music. Will slides his hand into his hair and combs through it, smiling brightly at the ceiling because him too.

Will closes his eyes again. He can feel Nico breathing, can feel the rise and fall of his chest against him, and he can feel it become heavy, slow and sleepy as Nico drifts off. Will glances down at him. The string of Will’s hoodie is twisted around his fingers, touching his mouth like he was brushing it against his lips when he fell asleep. Will looks up at the ceiling again and closes his eyes.

He falls asleep with his fingers in Nico’s hair.

He doesn’t know how long he sleeps, but he wakes to the music being turned down, and he blinks his eyes open blearily, focussing on the ceiling before he looks toward the desk where the speaker is. Nico is still heavy against him, their legs now tangled, Nico’s arm around Will’s waist.

Hazel smiles when their eyes meet, the speaker in her hands as she clicks the volume down. She doesn’t turn it off, though, leaving it loud enough for them to hear from the floor.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hi,” he says roughly, keeping his voice quiet so he doesn’t bother Nico, who nuzzles closer.

“You guys are really cute,” she whispers. He smiles sleepily, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Tell me ’bout it.”

She laughs quietly.

“I’ll be in the living room,” she whispers as she heads toward the door, and Will nods.

He sighs, running his hand gently over Nico’s back, sliding the other up over his arm gently. Nico exhales, his arm tightening around Will, and Will smiles, carefully pulling him on top of himself. Nico lets out a soft noise, tucking his face into Will’s neck, his hands curling into loose fists against Will’s chest. Will holds him tenderly, listening to his heart beat, sliding a hand to the small of his back.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly.

He falls asleep again.

He wakes up again when his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he furrows his eyebrows, suppressing a groan. Nico is still on top of him, and he can’t reach his phone with him here, so Will shifts him to lay on his side, but Nico keeps an arm around him, his face pressed to Will’s chest, his cheek squished.

Will blinks at his phone when he opens it, squinting as he finds the text from his mother. He sighs.

“Nico,” he says softly, touching his face softly. “Baby.”

Nico groans quietly. Will smiles.

“Nico…” he whispers, tracing a line over his cheek. Nico blinks his eyes open after a moment, finding Will blearily. He hums. “I gotta go home.”

Nico groans again, his hand gripping Will’s hoodie and pulling as he pouts.

“It’s a school night, Ni,” Will says, amused. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Nico sighs heavily, relaxing.

Will kisses his forehead, savoring the way Nico exhales slowly, the way he holds Will close.

He gets Nico up into bed, giggling as Nico clings to him and groans dramatically, and he lays next to him for a moment, brushing his hair out of his face and gazing at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Will whispers.

“Do you feel better?” Nico asks before he can leave, pulling at the front of Will’s hoodie and brushing their noses together. Will touches his cheek. It’s warm, and there’s a line in his skin from the folds in the fabric of Will’s hoodie.

“Yeah,” he murmurs truthfully. “I feel better.”

Nico smiles sleepily at him.

“Text me when you get home,” he whispers, brushing their noses together again.

“I will.”

Hazel is in the living room when Will finally tears himself away from Nico. She has a show playing on the television, the volume low, as she looks down at a worksheet in her lap, but she looks up when he comes out of Nico’s room, smiling.

“You going home?” she asks. Will rubs his face, nodding.

“Yeah.”

She hesitates.

“Is he okay?” she asks, lowering her pencil.

“Uh, yeah, he’s…” Will hesitates, glancing toward Nico’s closed door. “Probably knocked out by now, but…”

She smiles, nodding. She has a nice smile.

“‘S just… He usually listens to music like that when he’s upset,” she explains, her voice gentle. “During hard days. I’ll come home and go to turn it down and ask if he’s okay, and we’ll usually end up talking for a while or something. Wasn’t really expecting to come home and find him all cuddled up with you.”

“Oh.” Will’s cheeks burn, and he rubs the back of his neck. “I was actually having a hard day,” he says finally. “I asked what he usually does when he feels like shit, so…”

“Oh.” She nods, looking at him. “...Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just…” He hesitates, looking at her, but the shine in her eyes is so earnest that he just speaks. “It comes and goes, you know. Today was just kinda rough. But Nico…”

She grins, and she looks almost mischievous looking up at him like this, like she’s hidden his shoes.

“Anyway,” he says pointedly, looking away, and she giggles.

“Get home safe,” she says lightly, smiling that smile again, and he hesitates.

“Oh, hey, uhm…” He leans against the sofa to look down at her. “The other day, when Nico had a panic attack, uhm. How did you know my name?”

She blinks blankly at him.

“When I left,” he clarifies. “You said my name, but I didn’t tell you it.”

“Oh.” The grin is back. Mischievous. Knowing. “I didn’t know who you were on the phone, but when I got to you and Nico I figured you had to be Will because Nico will not shut up about you.” She stage-whispers the last few words. Will’s cheeks flush with warmth.

“Really?”

“Really,” she says adamantly, like she’s exasperated. “Will not shut up. People think he’s so quiet, but the man ta-a-alks. After our first day at school he laid upside down on my bed for like an hour talking about how nice and pretty you are.”

Will’s stomach flutters, and he raises a hand to nibble his nail absentmindedly as Hazel beams at him.

“Really?” he says again. She nods resolutely.

“And he’d kill me for telling you that, so shush.”

He mimes a zipper across his lips. He feels giddy when he leaves after exchanging numbers with her and promising to text when he gets home.

He’s texting both of them when he steps into the apartment, kicking his shoes off as his mom greets him from the kitchen.

“Hi, Mami.”

She’s wearing her pajamas, her curls tied up in a ponytail, and she’s playing solitaire on her phone as he leans down to kiss her forehead.

“How is your Nico?” she asks, reaching up to squeeze his arm as he passes by her to the sink.

“He’s good,” Will says lightly, smiling. “We listened to music.”

“What music does he like?”

“Heavy metal,” Will says fondly. She laughs behind him as he fills a glass at the sink.

They’re quiet for a moment as he sips it slowly, and he glances at his phone to see a message from Hazel reading nico’s still asleep; man’s not gonna finish his homework by tomorrow.

“Are you and Nico being responsible?”

Will chokes on his water, coughing and turning toward the sink.

“What?” he asks when he turns back around, wiping his face with the back of his hand. She glances up from solitaire.

“I just want to make sure,” she says lightly, nonchalantly. “I can get supplies for you if you need me to—”

“Oh my god, no,” he interrupts, his face burning. He sets the cup in the sink. “I don’t need you to get us anything, Mami, Dios—”

She’s smiling at her phone, amused.

“I’m just saying you need to be safe,” she says.

“I know to be safe,” he says adamantly. “And if I need anything I can get it myself, oh my god.”

She snickers at her phone, shaking her head.

“Que dramático,” she says lightly. “I can get condoms from the hospital for free, you know—”

“Mami,” Will groans, covering his face. “Stop, porfa.”

She laughs again, muttering something to herself that Will doesn't hear.

“I got it,” he says when he drops his hands. “I’m very responsible.”

She glances up at him.

“Okay,” she says lightly.

He takes a deep breath, watching her tap her phone screen, and he presses a hand to his cheek, willing his face to cool down.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he says after a moment. She hums in acknowledgement, furrowing her brows at her game, and he shakes his head, pausing to kiss her forehead and say goodnight as he passes.

“Love you, nene.”

He goes to his room and lays face-down on his bed for a while.

—————

“Hey, honey.”

“Mm.”

Nico lays falls against him, letting his head bump against Will's shoulder, and Will smiles, wrapping an arm around him.

“Happy Friday.”

“Mm.”

Will touches his hair, tilting his head to look at him, but his face is hidden.

“You okay?”

Nico hums, rubbing his face against Will's chest, squishing his cheek.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Just… Argued with my dad last night.”

Will runs his fingers through his hair.

“Was it bad?”

“Not really, just… a disagreement. No, like… bad blood. Or anything.”

He sighs heavily, wrapping his arm around Will's waist.

“I don’t like him very much,” he mumbles.

He buries his face in Will's neck. His cheeks are cold from the air, rosy red and pretty.

“Is he an asshole?”

Nico sighs again, moving to lean back a little, against the wall they’re next to. The wind blows his hair, and Will wishes he had a camera to take a picture of him, his dark hair and pale skin against the reddish brown brick of the school.

“Not really,” he says. “He just…” He holds Will’s jacket, fiddling with the zipper absently. “He wasn’t around when I was a kid. He’s not bad, I think I’m just… still kinda bitter about it. ‘Nd I think…”

He pauses, scanning Will’s face as he thinks.

“With the… I don’t know,” he says, almost whispering. “The grief, and… Everything. It’s just hard to be around him sometimes.”

“‘S okay,” Will says softly.

Nico looks at him.

Will wants to kiss him.

“I don’t feel like being around him,” Nico says quietly. “But he just got back from a trip, so he’s gonna be at home for a while.”

Will twists his mouth to the side like he’s thinking, and he reaches out, tugging at Nico’s denim jacket, pulling him so he stumbles into Will with a suppressed smile, catching himself with his hands on Will’s waist, looking up at him.

“You wanna come stay at mine this weekend?” Will asks lightly, tracing a line over Nico’s neck. Nico tilts his head, smiling.

“Yeah.”

Nico bops Will’s nose with his fingers, and Will snorts.

“I got invited to a party tonight,” he says, tucking Nico’s hair behind his ears. “You wanna stop by with me?”

“A party?”

“Mhmm.” He touches Nico’s cheek, watching his eyes flutter shut before he opens them to gaze at him. (He does that. Gazes. It blows Will’s fucking mind.) “Just someone from my calculus class.”

“Ugh, I forgot you take calculus,” Nico says, wrinkling his nose, and Will snorts again, rolling his eyes.

“Is that a yes?” he says. Nico’s eyes flicker over his face.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Sure.”

“We can leave if it’s too much,” Will says softly. “If it’s too loud or if anyone’s being a dick. Or if you just wanna go.”

“You’re so nice,” Nico says lightly.

He lifts his arms up, setting them on Will’s shoulders, his fingertips playing with the ends of his hair.

“Only to you,” Will says, holding Nico’s hips.

“Not true,” Nico says. “You’re a sweetheart.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re so annoying.”

Nico is smiling, tilting his chin up to nudge their noses together, and Will is breathless, eyes closing as Nico does it again, as their lips brush, and Will’s lips part as Nico’s thumbs brush over his cheeks.

And the bell rings.

It startles them both, and then Nico is giggling as Will sighs heavily, his head falling back.

“Fuck.”

“Come on,” Nico says lightly, pulling the front of Will’s shirt to lead him back inside. “I’ll see you after school,” he says as they go inside, squeezing Will’s hand and smiling when he sees the look Will gives him.

They stop by Will’s to drop off their school bags before they go back out. There’s still some time before the party, so they wander around for a while.

“No, come on, I swear you’re gonna like it,” Will insists, tugging at Nico’s hand. Nico is rolling his eyes, half-smiling as he begrudgingly follows behind him. His hand is cold on Will’s, but Will doesn’t mind.

“How do you know I’m gonna like it?” he asks. He’s got his hood up, and it’s making his hair fall into his face, covering his eyes a little as he stumbles after Will.

“Because I know you,” Will says lightly, glancing at him. “And I know you’re gonna like it.”

Nico sighs heavily, dramatically.

“Fi-i-ine…”

Will bounces on the balls of his feet with excitement, squeezing Nico’s hand tighter.

“It’s close, I promise.”

He leads him. Smiles when he feels his thumb brush back and forth over the side of his hand, soft and gentle and patient even though Will is so excited, even though he’s pulling him across the street and under a gap in a chainlink fence and into a grassy, tree-filled area.

“Is this the part where you axe-murder me?” Nico asks, stepping over a branch as his fingers squeeze Will’s.

“No, not yet.”

Nico snorts, pulling Will’s hand so he slows down, so Nico can grab his forearm with his free hand, so they’re walking side-by-side.

Will leads him through the trees, and in his peripheral vision he sees Nico’s head lift, sees him raise his gaze to look at how the sunlight is streaming through the bare branches in golden beams that land on the ground, how bugs flying in the air seem to glow in it. It’s so quiet here, the city sounds distant and muffled and far away. (Probably even more so because Nico is here.)

“Is this the part where you propose?” Nico asks after a few moments of listening to their shoes crunch in dead leaves and twigs. Will laughs lightly.

“No, not yet.”

“Oh, is that when you axe-murder me?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Nico giggles, snorting, and Will feels like he just stepped into a sunbeam.

Will leads him farther away from the city sounds. Deeper into the trees, over fallen logs, giggling when Nico stumbles and catches himself on Will’s jacket. Until they reach what Will is looking for, the underside of an old metro track. Will is grinning, turning to look at Nico as Nico’s eyes find it, as they widen and his lips part, as he exhales a soft Oh.

It’s almost a tunnel, cement that’s covered with colorful graffiti and leaves and flowers growing out of cracks and between blocks. The sunlight is making its way into the tunnel even more perfectly than Will had expected, lighting up the graffiti so it’s vibrant and bright, and there isn’t even anyone here. Sometimes Will will come out here and there will be a few kids spraypainting or getting high or venting to each other passionately because no one’s around to hear it. Will always makes friends for a few hours before they part ways.

But it’s empty as Nico pulls at his hand, walking into the tunnel and looking around, his eyes wide as they find the ceiling that’s covered in tags and zig-zags and a painting of the sun surrounded by stars that’s faded with time, but no one’s covered it up. On one beam of cement, there’s a blue jellyfish that’s stayed vibrant for so long that Will is surprised he’s never seen the person that keeps touching it up. Around it are fish, and a piece of coral, and cartoon octopus, all done by different artists. On another, a love letter wraps around it. It’s hard to read (Will got a headache when he tries a while ago, walking in circles with his eyes squinted), and some of the words have faded by now, but Will loves that it’s there. An anonymous letter to someone. Will wonders if they ever read it. If they got a headache too.

Nico lets go of Will’s hand to explore, stepping between beams to look at the graffiti, to read the tags, and his are shining now, smiling even though his lips aren’t. He traces one piece of graffiti, a large skull with a flower blooming from a crack in the cement. The paint was done around it intentionally. It looks recent. He looks at another piece that reads TELL ME A SECRET, his hands tightening into fists around the ends of his sleeves as he reads the secrets others have added under it. Will leans against Nico’s shoulder to read with him.

i picked her flowers on my way to her house, but i threw them away before i got there because i got scared.

I DON'T THINK MY DAD LIKES ME VERY MUCH! BUT I DON’T REALLY CARE!

I don’t want to get married, but I already said yes.

I really really really really really want to get high, but I’m scared of what might happen if I relapse again.

i think my little sister is turning into a mini me, and it fucking scares me

I can’t read analogue clocks

i dropped out of college and haven’t told my parents yet…

IM PREGNANT!! IT’S A GIRL!!!!!!

im two years clean (it keeps getting easier)

i’m actually a girl

I FELL IN LOVE WITH HIM.

I cheated on my bio test and still failed

I’m running away in 2 months. No one will know until I’m gone.

i know my sister’s boyfriend cheated on her but i don’t know what to do

I got the job and it feels like my life is finally falling into place

I don’t know who I am if I’m not who he wants

I dreamed about the sky last night. It was smiling.

Each entry in different handwriting, colors, sizes. Some followed up by different people. Under the analogue clock entry, someone added me either, and there are doodles of confetti in several different colors around the pregnancy announcement. Under the runaway’s words, someone wrote can i come?. The words are tiny, but under them, even smaller, is a phone number. Will wonders where they went.

He looks at Nico after a while. He’s staring at it all, and as Will watches, a tear slips down his cheek. Nico wipes it away quickly, sniffling.

“What do you think?” Will asks quietly when they turn away from the wall, as Nico looks around again. He’s almost whispering, like he’s scared of stirring the air, like they’re hiding.

Nico leans against him.

“I like it,” he says softly.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. You were right.”

Will raises a fist to the sky, and Nico giggles, letting his head fall to Will’s shoulder. He’s quiet for a moment.

“I think I need to get some spray paint.”

“I think you absolutely do.”

They’re late to the party.

No one notices. It doesn’t really matter. It’s not a formal party, just a house party or whatever. It’s almost dark when they get there, Will’s hands stuffed in his pockets as Nico holds onto his arm. When Will glances at him, he can see his breath in the air against the light of the house. His cheeks are flushed with color.

“Let me know if you wanna leave, okay?” Will says as they pass by some kids on the lawn, laughing as they toss something back and forth. Nico hums affirmatively. He doesn’t look anxious as they go inside, his eyes wide and shining curiously, and Will can barely look away from him as they take off their jackets and put them together in the entry room.

Nico holds his arm again.

He’s quiet as Will says hi to some of his friends, greeting them with one of his hands so Nico can hold the other, and when he glances at him between friendly What’s up man?s, he’s looking around, his eyes shining as they look at the fluorescent lights, reflecting them like he’s in a movie or something, and dammit, Dahlia was so fucking right.

“I’ve never been to a party before,” Nico tells him as he’s serving them some kind of punch. It’s red. He’s nibbling at the rim of his cup, looking at Will over it, and Will wishes he could take a picture of him like this, smiling and shy and so beautiful it hurts.

“What do you think?” Will asks, setting the ladle back in the punch bowl and moving to stand next to where Nico is sitting on the counter. He sets his forearm across his thighs.

“...I like the lights,” Nico says, his voice almost inaudible under the pulsing music.

“I can tell,” Will says fondly, tilting his head. Nico looks away, taking a sip of his drink.

They don’t say much.

They don’t really have to.

Nico looks around, watching people dance and laugh and drink. His eyes find the lights again when they start flashing, and he looks transfixed by it, unblinking, gazing as if in awe. Will sneaks his phone out and takes a short video, capturing the lights flashing in the reflections in Nico’s eyes.

The music is too loud for them to talk when Will drags him into the living room, tugging at his hand the way he did when he took him to see the graffiti, grinning when Nico rolls his eyes again. Will makes him dance.

He tugs his hand up to make him spin, beaming when he sees the way Nico’s lips are pursed to suppress his own smile, and he pulls Nico’s hand to his shoulder, setting his hands on his hips like they’re slow-dancing even though the music is fast. Will doesn’t know how long they stay there, swaying and smiling and laughing when Nico tries to make Will spin. (He has to stoop under their arms because Nico is shorter than him.)

After a while Nico pauses, looking up at him and coming to a stop, his brows furrowing a little bit, and Will tilts his head at him. He asks if he’s okay, but it’s too loud.

Nico pulls at his shirt, stepping back and leading him out of the room as worry knots in Will’s chest.

“Ni?” he says, following after him as Nico looks around, down the hall. “Are you good? Is it too loud? Because we can go if you want to, we don’t have to stay all night, it’s okay, I…”

He trails off when Nico pulls him into a too-bright bathroom, shutting the door behind them and pushing Will back as he locks it.

“...Oh.”

The music is muffled now, the bass pulsing through the door, through the walls, and it feels as quiet as the woods when Nico turns to look at him, his eyes shining as he pushes his hair back nervously, his hand covered by the sleeve of his hoodie. Will leans against the counter by the sink, holding the edge of it as he looks at him patiently, smiling as Nico inches closer.

Nico looks away, his eyes finding Will’s sweater, and he reaches out to touch his waist, his fingers curling into the fabric tentatively. Will touches him back, running a hand up his forearm, careful not to slide his sleeve up, tucking his hair behind his ear with his other hand, and this all feels oddly fine.

Will’s stomach flutters with nerves when Nico moves closer, his hands sliding over his waist, but it also feels fucking fine. Even with the butterflies, he feels so calm with Nico so close, with the locked door and their shared breaths. Nico exhales shakily as he moves closer, nudging their noses together, and Will holds his face, brushing his thumb over his cheek gently to soothe him, and it seems to work. Nico’s shoulders slope, and he tilts his head, nudging their noses together again.

He kisses him.

He pulls back after a moment, looking into Will’s eyes nervously, but Will just smiles, looking back at him, brushing his thumb over his cheek again.

Nico’s lips curve into a slow, shy smile, and Will feels like the ceiling is opening up, like the stars are watching them, gazing, admiring, like they’re a constellation now.

Nico kisses him again, their mouths crashing together, and they’re both grinning, barely even kissing as Nico reaches up to wrap his arms around Will’s neck, standing up on his tiptoes. Will tilts his head, kissing him back, and he wraps his arms around his waist, hugging him tightly, and this is ridiculous.

His crush, his boyfriend, is kissing him stupid in the bathroom of a house party, holding Will’s head in place as he kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, like he’s desperate for it, like he’s frantic. Will feels lightheaded with it, gasping for breath between kisses, clutching at Nico’s waist for a few moments before he reaches down to his legs and tugs at his thighs. He mumbles a weak C’mere that finds its way into Nico’s mouth, but Nico gets it, letting Will lift him up and turn to set him on the counter haphazardly.

Nico catches himself with a hand behind him, but he doesn’t stop kissing Will as they get situated, pushing his fingers into his hair and pulling his head down as he spreads his legs for Will to stand between them. He wraps his legs around Will’s hips as Will reaches to touch his face, giggling when Nico’s teeth close on his lower lip for a moment.

Nico grins, pulling away with a gasp, and Will looks at him blearily, his cheeks flushed. Nico’s eyes are closed, and he’s taking slow, measured breaths, and Will can’t help but gaze at him, wanting to cry.

Nico tilts his chin up silently, his eyes still closed, and Will kisses him again, listening to Nico hum softly as he sucks on his lip for a moment, feeling his shoulders slump as he relaxes, and Will giggles again.

They’re both breathing hard when they part, and Nico presses his forehead to Will’s, holding his face softly. Will holds his waist, feeling his heart pound in his chest, and his face is sore from how much he’s smiling.

“Kinda makes sense our first kiss would be in some random person’s bathroom,” he says softly, his smile widening when Nico snorts.

“At least it’s clean.”

“‘S a good point.”

“I was too nervous to kiss you at the graffiti,” Nico says quietly.

Will lifts his head, looking at him. His cheeks are pink.

“You wanted to kiss me there?” he says. Nico looks away from his eyes, down at Will’s chest, at the colorful stripes that contrast his own black hoodie.

“I always wanna kiss you,” he mumbles shyly, his fingertips playing with the ends of Will’s hair. Will’s chest aches, and his cheeks flush, and he leans in to kiss him again, tender and slow. Nico ducks his head when they part again, hiding his face, but his legs tighten around Will’s hips.

“What changed?” Will asks.

“Just…”

He glances at his eyes, and then he looks away again, pulling his arms back from Will’s shoulders, but he takes Will’s wrists and tugs them closer, pulling Will so he’s trapping Nico on the counter, surrounding him, their faces close. Nico puts his hands in his lap, fidgeting with the fraying ends of his sleeves. He shrugs.

“You were smiling,” he says softly. “You smile a lot, but you just… looked really happy. And you laughed when I tried to spin you, and I— I couldn’t hear you laugh, but it was like I could feel it.”

Will looks at him. At the freckles scattered on his nose, at his pink cheeks.

“And I just…” Nico is whispering now, and it’s like they’re in the woods again, the distant city sounds replaced by muffled music and laughter. “I just suddenly needed to, I— I just had to.” He glances at Will and reaches to hold the hem of his sweater, feeling the fabric between his fingers. “And I couldn’t do it out there, so…”

Will kisses him again. Nico hums, tilting his head, and he’s smiling when Will pulls away. He looks almost bashful, shoulders hunched happily as he grins, and Will’s eyes sting as he caresses his cheek.

Nico pulls at the front of Will’s sweater, tugging him into another kiss.

It’s heavenly, Will thinks. Kissing Nico, even in some random, glistening white bathroom that smells vaguely of citrusy bleach. (Nico smells like incense, like smoke and flowers.) Will feels like he’s floating, like he’s lightheaded as Nico’s fingers run through his hair and hold the back of his neck, as he licks into his mouth and makes quiet humming noises like he’s content here.

His tongue tastes like the punch they drank earlier.

Will furrows his brows, tilting his head, focusing on the taste, on the feeling of Nico’s hands on him, of his waist under Will’s hands, listening to his breathy hums drown out the muffled music. He feels so gentle, like he’s being careful with Will, like he’s tentative and nervous, and Will feels the same, like he doesn’t want to scare him off, even as he kisses and kisses and kisses him. Nico’s fingertips dance lightly over Will’s cheeks, over his jaw and his neck, over his throat. It tickles, but Will just hums softly under his breath, pressing a hand gently into the small of Nico’s back to pull him closer, and Nico finally pulls away only to tilt his head and lick his lips and lean back in.

And Will wants to say something. He doesn’t know what, what would feel right, or what would sound right, what would slip between his lips into the air between them like it belongs there, what would find a home under Nico’s skin.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs into Nico’s mouth, his hands pressing into the small of his back, and Nico lets out this noise, this weak, quiet, desperate noise. It’s almost a whimper, something between that and a whiny hum. He wraps his arms around Will’s neck. Will hears the denim scratch against itself as Nico crosses his forearms, and he hugs Nico’s waist as their foreheads press, and Nico locks his ankles behind Will.

“You really think so?” Nico asks softly, whispering. Will scoffs.

“God, yeah,” he whispers back. “Fuckin’ Nico di Angelo, with his angel eyes, ‘nd—”

“You’re so annoying,” Nico says, but he’s laughing sofly, shaking his head as his cheeks flush. Will kisses his lips gently. “...I think you’re perfect.”

Will tilts his head fondly, smiling.

“Shut up,” Nico says. Will just laughs.

“I didn’t say anything—”

“Shush,” Nico says again, grinning and forward.

“I didn’t—”

Nico kisses him, holding his face in his hands, and it’s a little sloppy because they’re both smiling too widely to actually kiss. Will giggles into his mouth.

They leave the bathroom when someone pounds on the door a few minutes later, loudly complaining that she needs to pee, and Nico won’t let go of Will’s hand, clutching at him and giggling like he’s tipsy even though the punch barely had any alcohol in it, and he didn’t even finish his drink. Will’s face is sore from smiling.

It’s cold out when they leave, the stars hidden behind clouds that seem lighter than they should in the city lights. They stumble down the sidewalks, stepping over each other’s feet and over the cracks in the pavement like they’re playing a game with secret rules that neither of them knows. Nico doesn’t let go of him until they’re stepping into Will’s apartment.

Nico scoops Lucita up when she meows at him, and he follows Will to his room after they leave their shoes at the door. Will goes to his dresser to get some clothes for Nico to wear as Nico kneels on the ground, setting Lucita on the bed and resting his chin on the mattress next to her. He’s cooing at her, murmuring quietly in Italian, his head tilted to look at her. His eyes are shining, and his hair is messy and windswept.

Will falters with the hoodie he’s holding, watching. Nico is playing with her sleepily, tracing a line over her nose, between her eyes, pulling his hand back when she tries to catch it, and his voice sounds almost musical, like he’s singing under his breath. Will finishes finding some sweatpants for Nico before he speaks, holding them with the hoodie bundled up in his hands.

“Ni?”

Nico looks over at him, humming a soft Mhmm?

“...Can I kiss you?”

Nico smiles, his eyes squinting across the room at Will, and he nods, lifting his chin. He doesn’t move to get up, his hand lingering on Lucita’s head as she purrs, and Will scoffs. He comes close, leaning over where Nico is looking up at him, eyes sparkling, and he leans down, reaching with a hand to touch his chin lightly. When their lips touch, one of Nico’s hands touches Will’s leg, holding the fabric of his pants, and he hums softly, the sound gentle and sweet in the silence of Will’s room. Will smiles against his lips, tilting his head to kiss him again, sliding his fingertips to hold his jaw gently.

Nico blinks up at him when they part, his eyes wide and shining and almost curious-looking, and Will has to look away before he fucking melts, his face flushing with heat.

“Here,” Will says softly, holding the clothes out for him. Nico is still smiling as he takes them. “I’m gonna get us some food while you change.”

“Okay,” Nico says softly, still gazing up at him. Will lingers a moment longer, looking down at him, and then he sighs, leaning down to kiss his lips chastely before he goes.

Nico kisses him as they go to bed after eating and taking turns in the bathroom. Will giggles, rolling onto his back as Nico hovers above him, holding himself up on an elbow next to Will’s head. The lights are off, and it’s dark, but in the light that’s sneaking through the open window, Will can see Nico above him when he opens his eyes.

“You’re good at that,” Nico whispers, his lips brushing Will’s. His breath tastes like mint. Will smiles, trailing a hand over Nico’s waist.

“Kissing you?”

“Mhmm.”

“Mm. You’re not too bad either.”

Nico giggles, kissing him again, and his other hand slides up Will’s chest, and Will melts into the mattress, sighing as Nico’s fingers find his neck and hold it loosely, his fingertips pressing into Will’s pulse. When they part, Nico hums softly, pressing another kiss to his cheek before he buries his face in Will’s neck, sighing.

“Night, honey,” Will murmurs, wrapping his arms around him as their legs tangle, and Nico just hums sleepily, becoming heavy against Will. He says something back, but his voice is too muffled by Will’s neck and his voice is too slurred with sleep for Will to understand. He kisses the top of his head.

Saturday is sleepy. They wake up slowly, still tangled together as light rain taps on the window. It’s sunny out even though it’s raining, and the light is soft in Will’s room when he blinks his eyes open. His vision is obstructed by Nico’s curls, and he can hear him breathing slowly, can feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. His arms are around Will’s waist, his fingertips touching the small of his back where his shirt has ridden up a little bit, and it makes Will’s cheeks flush as he smiles across the room.

He closes his eyes again, sliding a hand into Nico’s hair, careful not to tug on any of the tangles in his curls. He scratches at his scalp, sighing, and Nico stirs, nuzzling closer.

“How is it already morning?” Nico grumbles after a few moments, his voice rough and muffled. Will laughs softly, playing with his hair.

“We got home late.”

Nico hums sleepily, but he doesn’t move, staying close to Will’s chest.

“You can go back to sleep if you want,” Will says quietly. It feels like he’s already asleep before Will even finishes speaking.

So Will goes back to sleep, too.

—————

They go back to the graffiti after Nico gets a can of spray paint. He only gets one, just black, but he brings some kind of paint pens with him in a bag that’s stuffed in his backpack as it hangs from his shoulder. Will holds his hand as he leads him back through the woods, and there are a few people there when they arrive. One of them is asleep, dozing in the sunlight as he lays on a fuzzy blanket that’s been laid out, and others are talking quietly, trading a blunt back and forth. They startle when Will and Nico come through the trees and then relax when Will waves awkwardly and then tugs Nico past them, under the concrete and into the shadows.

“Go ‘head,” Will says, gently pushing Nico toward a wall that’s covered in colorful paint, the words and shapes unintelligible as the paint overlaps and drips and fades. Nico tugs his hand for a moment, squeezing it, and he leans in to kiss Will quickly before he turns to look at the wall. And Will sneakily pulls his phone out to take a photo of his back. His clothes and backpack are black and stand out against the wall, against the colorful mess of paint that’s lit up in the sunlight that sneaks under the concrete. Will looks at the photo to make sure it’s not blurry or anything, and then he slips his phone back into his pocket, looking up to watch as Nico drops his bag to the ground, still analyzing the wall. Will leans back against the wall behind him, pushing his hands into his pocket. He’s smiling absently, fondly.

Nico crouches to the ground and unzips his back, opening it enough to pull the can of spray paint out and set it aside before he opens the plastic bag of paint pens, moving the plastic so it’s sitting open and he can see all of them. He bounces on the balls of his feet when he stands up again, holding a white marker, and one of his hands swings by his side, his fingers slicking like he’s trying to get something off of them, but it's just an absent sort of fidget as he thinks, staring up at the wall. Will smiles, watching him fidget and stim, watching him think out loud.

He loves when Nico does this. Lets himself exist without hiding it the way he used to when they met. He used to sit on his hands, used to catch himself rocking back and forth in class and make himself stop, make himself bounce a knee up and down under his desk instead. But when they’re like this, all alone, and sometimes in class when they’re sitting close together, he lets himself. Like he knows Will doesn’t mind.

He makes a few seemingly random marks on the wall with the marker, and from where he’s standing, Will can barely see them, but Nico finds them sufficient, capping the marker and stepping back to look again. He steps back and forth for a moment, the steps light like he’s about to take flight, like he’s about to fall into a dance, and then he grabs the can of spray paint.

He shakes it as he sways back and forth, the sound of the can rattling filling the air, echoing, and then it’s followed by the sound of the paint spraying. Will pulls his phone back out and snaps a few photos of Nico’s back again, capturing him as he reaches up to spray higher on the wall.

He can’t see the art because Nico is covering it as he paints. So he waits. Leaning against the wall and letting his head fall back to rest on it, listening to the spraying and rattling and Nico’s shoes scraping against the dirt on the ground. It takes a while, but Nico doesn’t seem to tire, pausing only to look at his work.

When he finally finishes, he steps back, exhaling sharply like he’s been holding his breath this whole time, and Will moves closer to stand behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist as Nico drops the can of spray paint and Will’s eyes scan over the wall.

“Shit,” he breathes. Nico scoffs quietly.

“Is that a good shit?”

Will nods, his chin hitting Nico’s shoulder.

It’s a ghost. He thinks. A vague, human-like figure in black, but Nico somehow managed to hold the can of paint at an angle or something, making the paint spray so it faded, so there’s a kind of fading shadow, so it looks fucking three-dimensional but still see-through, showing the colorful wall behind it. It’s wearing a crown, and the crown is see-through, too, but glittering like there are crystals embedded in the wall, the colorful paint from Nico’s pens spotting the concrete.

“Yeah,” Will says quietly. “Good shit.”

Nico giggles quietly, and he turns his head to look at Will before he pauses to look down at his hands. They’re stained with black paint, mostly on his fingertips from a leak in the nozzle of the can, and Nico sighs heavily.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wanna touch you,” Nico mumbles. “But I don’t wanna get paint on you.”

Will laughs softly, and he kisses his cheek. Nico inhales, his eyes fluttering for a moment as his head turns like he’s absently trying to catch Will’s lips. Nico’s cheeks flush pink, and he looks away.

Will presses his lips together, tilting his head fondly. The other people here are playing music from a speaker, and it’s quiet and little echoey from the concrete. Will doesn’t recognize the song.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks quietly.

Nico’s eyes flicker across his face.

“Yes, please.”

They’re close enough that Will barely has to lean in to kiss him, and their mouths crash together as Will kisses him desperately, touching his face tenderly, cradling it between his hands. Nico doesn’t touch him, but he kisses him back just as desperately, tilting his head and lifting his chin to reach him.

When Will finally pulls back and opens his eyes, he finds Nico standing with his hands hovering in the air like he’s surrendering, and a laugh bursts out of Will as Nico’s eyes open blearily.

“Are you trying not to touch me?”

Nico blinks at him like he’s spacey.

“I— I don’t wanna get paint on you,” he says adamantly. “It’ll stain, and you’re not wearing black like me.”

Will smiles fondly and kisses him again, stomach fluttering when Nico hums under his breath, before he lets him go and nods toward his painting.

“Lemme take a picture.”

Nico lets him, laughing when he crouches onto the ground and leans back to take a photo from a lower angle.

They flip through the photos together as they lean against the wall, and Nico points out his favorites. One photo of the wall with everything in the frame, the ghost almost blending in with it all. Another from a lower angle, Nico’s backpack and bottle of spray paint in the frame, blurry as the camera focuses on the wall. One of Nico working, arm reaching above his head.

“Can you send those to me?” Nico asks as they start to head back out, Will’s arm across his shoulders.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Will selects the photos, using his peripheral vision to guide him as he walks, but he’s distracted by—

“Thank you, baby.”

Will turns his head to look at Nico, who’s looking out in front of them and smiling awkwardly at the people that are still smoking and lounging around. Will stares at him for a moment before he pulls him close and smacks an obnoxious kiss on his cheek, making him giggle and shrink away before he wraps an arm around Will’s waist.

Chapter Text

Will takes him on a date the next week.

Although Nico insists on paying, Will takes him to another art exhibition. This time, Nico holds his hand as they wander slowly, squeezing periodically like he’s making sure Will is still there. Will squeezes back, occasionally lifting Nico’s hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

Nico points out an art piece of the sun in the middle of the night, and they pause in front of it, staring as Will brushes his thumb over Nico’s skin lightly. Nico lets his head fall to Will’s shoulder.

Nico takes a picture of Will as he’s looking at another piece, but Will doesn’t notice until later that day, as they’re swiping through the photos they’ve taken of the day, and he sees it, raising an eyebrow as he leans closer. Nico just giggles.

It mirrors the photos Will took of him in front of the graffiti wall, his back turned as he faces the art piece, and Will wants to laugh.

Nico sits with his back to Will’s chest as they eat, Will’s chin on his shoulder, and when Hazel texts to ask what they’re up to (as she procrastinates her biology homework), Nico props his phone up on his bent knees, setting the timer as Will smiles bashfully and buries his face in Nico’s neck. Nico laughs softly, reaching to bury a hand in Will’s hair, messing it up as the camera snaps a few photos.

“You’re cute,” Nico says lightly, easily, as though it doesn’t send butterflies into mayhem in Will’s stomach. He groans weakly, hiding his face in Nico’s neck again, and Nico giggles again, taking another picture even though Will isn’t looking.

Nico posts one of the photos on his Instagram story that night, zoomed in on his hand in Will’s hair, his black nails standing out in the blond curls, a red heart emoji in the empty space above them. The next picture is the one from the elevator that Nico had taken, both their faces hidden as Will holds his waist and his jaw. It’s in black and white, which feels very Nico.

willsoulless: kissing u in my head rn

bonechurch: i can feel it

Their next date is after school one day. They go to the library after stopping by a convenience store for snacks, and they sit in a booth that’s mostly hidden from view. Nico sits sideways with his back against Will’s side, and Will wraps an arm around him, across his chest, as they both do their homework. Nico fidgets with Will’s fingers as he thinks, squeezing and fiddling and tugging. He has his headphones on, and Will can just barely hear his music as it plays. He kisses his head between questions. Nico squeezes his fingers in response.

Vincent and Dahlia join them a little while later, sitting on the other side of the table, and Nico takes his headphones off to greet them, but when they fall into silence, he puts them back on. He finishes his homework before Will does, and he opens his notebook to a blank page, pulling Will’s arm more tightly around him before he twirls his pen in his hand.

He draws a spiderweb across the page, his hand steady enough to draw the straight lines, and Will watches for a moment, admiring, before he goes back to his homework.

Hazel joins them on their next date, procrastinating her homework again, and she insists on paying for the three of them even though Will is already holding his card out. Nico just gives him an I-told-you-so look, and Will rolls his eyes. Hazel pinches both their cheeks when they’re sitting, saying something about her sweet darling angels, and Nico smacks her hands away, grumbling, “We’re both older than you.”

“You don’t think you’re a sweet darling angel?” Will teases, looking at him and leaning close. Nico’s cheeks turn pink, and he rolls his eyes as Hazel coos, reaching over to poke his cheek. He swats her hand away again.

“I’m not a sweet darling angel,” he says dryly.

“My sweet darling demon,” Will fixes, nuzzling his cheek for a moment as Nico glares at him, and then Nico looks away.

“‘S better.”

Hazel laughs, poking him one last time.

— — — — —

It’s dark in Will's room, and Nico is warm against him. It must be around three am now, but Will is too tired to find his phone to check. He doesn’t open his eyes, his hand shifting on Nico’s waist. He can feel him breathing, slow and steady, but after a moment Nico sighs, his legs shifting under the blankets, and Will blinks his eyes open, looking in the dark to find him even though he isn’t facing him.

“Ni?”

“Mhmm?”

Awake. Will can’t find the glow of his phone in the dark, and he blinks in confusion.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice slurring and mumbling as he sits up a little, but Nico holds his hand in place, shifting to face him a little bit.

“Yeah,” he says softly, quietly. “I’m fine.”

“Wha’s wrong?” Will mumbles, his eyes closing as Nico shifts closer, trying to stay awake.

“Nothing,” Nico whispers. “Just can’t sleep.”

“Can I help?”

“No,” Nico says, and Will can hear his smile in his voice. “Just happens sometimes. Go to sleep, baby.”

“M’kay,” Will mumbles, but he pauses, reaching up behind himself and feeling around the pillow blindly until he finds the stuffed rabbit. He pulls it down, passing it to Nico, who laughs softly as he takes it.

“Thank you.”

Will hums, wrapping his arms around Nico and pulling him close, smiling when Nico tucks his face into his neck. He opens his mouth to speak again, but what almost comes out is I love you, and he stops himself, sighing instead as he blushes. Nico nuzzles closer, and Will can feel the flutter of his eyelashes on his skin.

Nico is asleep when Will wakes up in the morning, facing Will and holding the rabbit to himself, his cheek squished against its head. One of his hands is holding onto Will's shirt, fingers curled into the fabric loosely. Will waits for him, gazing at him.

Nico opens his eyes slowly, inhaling as his fist tightens on Will’s shirt, and he blinks. His eyes meet Will’s, and he closes them again, exhaling a soft laugh.

“Creep,” he grumbles.

Will giggles, lifting a hand to touch his face the way he’s been wanting to. He tucks a curl behind his ear, tracing a line over his cheek.

“You’re so pretty,” he coos, and Nico somehow rolls his eyes even though they’re closed.

Nico stretches, squeezing his eyes shut and wincing, and Will watches, suppressing a smile. Nico sighs when he relaxes, nuzzling into the rabbit for a moment before he lifts his chin, opening his eyes and looking at Will like a puppy.

“Kiss?”

Will’s smile widens, and he moves closer to nudge their noses together before he kisses him. Nico sighs as he kisses back, his hand tightening on Will’s shirt and pulling him closer. Will pulls back, but Nico moves closer, kissing him again and moving so Will rolls onto his back, holding himself up above him as Will giggles quietly, reaching up to hold his face. One of his cheeks is warmer than the other, and there are lines on it from the creases in the pillowcase.

Nico finally pulls away, pressing his face into Will’s neck and kissing him there. It tickles a little bit, but Will just hums and tilts his head.

“You’re beautiful,” Nico murmurs quietly, his lips brushing Will’s skin. Will has butterflies.

“Says you.”

Nico just hums back, kissing him again.

They get up after a few minutes, and Will hopes Nico hasn’t left a mark as they greet his mom in the living room. She kisses both their foreheads and grabs her keys from where they’re hanging on the wall before she leaves. Breakfast is on the stove, and Will serves them both. Nico is still sleepy, holding the stuffed rabbit like he always does in the mornings when he stays over, and he lays his head on the table, petting Lucita as she paws at his face.

“You wanna go to the living room?” Will asks as they’re finishing their breakfast. “Watch a movie or something?”

Nico nods, covering his face with the collar of the sweatshirt he’s wearing as he yawns. Will leans down to kiss his forehead as he carries the dishes to the sink, and then Lucita follows them into the living room as they go slowly, sleepily. Nico is holding one of Will’s hands, and as they sit on the sofa, he draws his legs up to his chest, leaning against Will, who wraps an arm around him gently.

“You can go back to sleep if you want to,” Will says softly, kissing the top of his head as he sighs. “I know you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Nico groans softly, pressing closer to Will, curling up around the stuffed rabbit. Will turns on the television and lowers the volume, selecting a random movie. Nico wraps an arm around Will’s waist, pulling him closer, and Will smiles, setting the remote aside.

“C’mere.”

He pats his leg when Nico looks at him, and Nico smiles, uncurling and moving to Will’s lap. He leans against his chest, and Will hugs his torso, one arm around his back and the other around his front, between his torso and his legs as they bend again. Nico tucks his face back into Will’s neck, sighing as he relaxes against him, and Will lets his head fall back for him, running a hand over his waist slowly, soothingly.

He feels the exact moment Nico falls asleep. He exhales and becomes heavier, nuzzling into Will’s neck, hugging the rabbit to himself. Will looks down at his hands, pale and thin, his fingers pressing into the soft fuzz, at the black chipped nail polish. His hands are always a little cold.

It’s kind of ironic that he smells so warm. Which feels like a weird thing to think, but it’s true. Will isn’t sure how often Nico burns incense in his room, but he always smells like it, like burned flowers and dry fruit.

Will sighs. The volume of the movie is so low he can barely hear it, but he doesn’t mind. He can hear Nico’s heartbeat. It’s beautiful, he thinks.

Nico wakes up slowly, pressing closer to Will and groaning weakly as Will murmurs softly.

“I got you.”

“You got me,” Nico mumbles. His voice is rough with sleep.

Will runs a hand through Nico’s hair, combing through it and scratching his scalp and tracing a line down his neck tenderly. Nico hums.

“You’re so warm,” he says softly.

“Comfy?”

“Mm.” He sighs, nosing at Will’s jaw before he kisses the side of his neck. “Where’s Lucita?”

“Probably getting into my laundry.”

Will turns his head and calls her, and a moment later she appears in the doorway, a sock in her mouth. She looks oddly proud of herself.

“What’d I tell you?”

Nico giggles, watching as Lucita hops onto the back of the sofa, stepping around Will’s head and letting him take the sock from her mouth as she climbs down his shoulder and into Nico’s lap on top of Will’s forearm. Nico kisses her head as she gets situated, laying her head on the rabbit.

“You sleep okay?” Will asks softly, gathering his hair back. Nico nods.

“It’s hard to sleep sometimes,” he says quietly. “Sometimes my— my leg hurts, or, uhm. I’m scared of nightmares, so I, like, try to stay awake. But last night was just… I wasn’t sleepy.”

Will hums, listening to him.

“Sometimes it sucks,” Nico adds. “If I’m, like, restless, but it was… It was nice. With you. Like… Listening to you sleep. Is that weird?”

“No,” Will says, smiling. “I don’t think it’s weird. Also I was fully watching you sleep before you woke up this morning so I don’t think I can say anything about you being weird.”

Nico snickers into his shoulder, fingers scratching at Lucita’s head, behind her ears, as she purrs happily.

“Also I was, um. Listening to your heartbeat just now. Before you woke up.”

“I listened to your heartbeat last night,” Nico says almost excitedly, grinning as he looks at Will. “I could feel it on my face.”

“You could?” Will says, smiling, and Nico nods, leaning to tuck his face back into Will’s neck.

“Right here,” he says, nuzzling so it tickles, and Will giggles, his shoulder hunching.

“Is that why you like it there?” he asks.

“Mm. Part of it. ‘S warm. You smell good.”

“You smell good too,” Will says.

Nico falls asleep again with Lucita on his lap. She falls asleep too. And Will feels so fucking happy. He keeps playing with Nico’s hair, untangling it gently.

They have lunch and finish their homework together at the dining table, kicking at each other’s feet and throwing balled-up paper scraps to distract each other. Nico finishes before Will does, and he lays his head on the table, watching Will work quietly, just staring. Gazing. Will suppresses a smile when he notices, his cheeks flushing, and Nico doesn’t say anything, but a few minutes later Will looks up at him, and he’s drawing on the back of an old worksheet. The red, marker 9/10 seeps through the back, and he ignores it, sketching Will quietly with a black pen. Will looks away before Nico notices him looking.

Nico puts it back in his backpack when he finishes it, and then he looks back at Will again, laying his head down on his forearm, his cheek squishing, his eyes sparkling.

Will never really felt pretty until he met Nico.

Vincent and Dahlia have always told him that he’s pretty, and his mom has always told him that he’s handsome and everything, but it always just felt like people that love him being nice. He’s never seen the appeal. On the rare occasion that someone confesses that they have a crush on him, or that they did have a crush on him, he’s mainly just felt confused. He’s never liked his freckles, or his scars, or the way his hair falls around his face.

But Nico gazes at him like he’s the sunset. And when their eyes meet, Will just blushes.

His eyes are wide as he looks at Will, a smile just teasing his lips, and he’s quiet. Looking.

“Yes?” Will asks, writing something on his worksheet without looking. Nico’s cheeks flush with color, and he looks away, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

“Nothing,” he says, his voice muffled by the fabric of his sweatshirt. “You’re cute.”

Will giggles, looking back at his worksheet.

“You’re adorable.”

“Shut up.”

He giggles again.

They go back to the living room after Will finishes his homework. Nico pulls a blanket around his shoulders, bundling up into the corner of the sofa as Will leans against him and scrolls through the movie selection.

“What do you wanna watch?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Wanna look?”

“Sure.”

Will holds the remote out for him, and Nico’s hand emerges from the blanket as he reaches for it, but Will’s eyes get stuck. The sleeve of Nico’s sweatshirt is caught on the blankets, and it gets pulled back, up his forearm. Exposing lines crisscrossing across his skin. Red and brown and pale, small and scattered.

They’re healing, Will notes as he looks.

Nico realizes as he’s taking the remote, and he jerks his hand back, pulling his sleeve back down and pulling his arm under the blanket as he looks away, taking a sharp breath. Will’s fingers fumble with the remote as Nico pulls his hand away, and it falls to the ground, but neither of them looks or reaches for it.

It’s too quiet, suddenly.

Nico knows Will saw them. He’s staring at the television like they already put a movie on, and his lips are pursed like he’s trying not to cry. He’s shaking, fist holding the blanket tightly as he avoids Will’s eyes.

Will’s whole body aches.

He’d had a feeling.

And he knew they’d have to talk about it eventually.

But he hadn’t expected to be… thrown into it.

Nico takes another breath, and he looks like he’s about to have a panic attack. Will wants to cry.

“Ni,” he breathes. Nico glances at him, swallowing as he looks back at the television.

“Yeah?” he says shakily. Fake casual.

“...Can I kiss you?”

Nico exhales, his fingers knotting in the blanket again, and he nods, his lip trembling as he swallows again. Will reaches to touch his face, his fingers pressing into his jaw as he tilts his head and leans in, kissing him gently. Nico lifts his chin, kissing him back.

They both exhale when they part, and Nico looks away again, wiping his cheek with the blanket quickly.

“Nico,” Will murmurs, moving a little closer. “We… We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t— if you don’t want to. But I…”

He shifts to face him as Nico swallows again, taking a breath. His eyes are shining with tears, and Will feels a little sick.

“Sweetheart,” he says softly. “...I know.”

Nico shakes his head, a tear falling down his cheek.

“No, you don’t,” he chokes.

Will’s vision blurs, and he tilts his head, trying not to cry.

“Ni…”

Nico looks at him, another tear falling, and Will exhales, hesitating for a moment.

He shifts, pulling at the sleeve of his shirt. It’s too long to roll up, so he pulls it off, slipping his arm out from under it as Nico watches. He holds his arm out, watching Nico’s face as his eyes find the scars on his upper arm, just above the tattoo of the leaves.

Nico reaches to touch them, his hand trembling, and his fingers are cold when they land on his arm, tracing the biggest scar gently.

And then he’s crying, his eyes squeezing shut as he holds Will’s arm tightly, and he falls forward. Will catches him, gathering him into his arms carefully and closing his eyes.

Nico’s shoulders are shaking as he cries, and Will's chest tightens as he runs a hand over the top of Nico’s head.

“I know, baby,” he whispers. “‘S gonna be okay, Nico, I promise, I got you.”

Nico hugs Will’s neck, shifting closer so he’s climbing over his lap, the blanket falling, and Will tightens his arms around him. His eyes burn, and he takes a stuttering breath.

He rocks back and forth with him in his lap, one of his arms firmly around his waist as the other cradles the back of his head. His neck feels wet where Nico is hiding.

Nico pulls away after a while, wiping his face with a hand as he leans back and looks at Will’s arm. It’s still bare, his shirt hanging from his shoulder, and Nico’s trembling fingers touch the scars again, tracing them lightly as he takes shaky breaths.

“Hey,” Will says softly. Nico’s eyes raise to meet his, shining with unshed tears, his cheek glistening and rosy red. “Breathe for me, honey.”

Nico inhales, his fingers closing around Will’s upper arm, squeezing it as he holds his breath for a moment and then exhales slowly. Will nods, touching his cheek.

“It’s okay,” he whispers.

Nico squeezes his eyes shut, sobbing quietly, and Will pulls Nico closer so their foreheads press, whispering again.

“I’m— I’m sorry,” Nico chokes, and Will’s stomach twists.

“Baby, no,” he says, pulling away to look at him. He reaches up to touch his face, wiping his tears carefully and holding him. “Look at me.”

Nico looks at him, but Will knows he’s blurry in his vision. He tries to smile.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he says softly. “You understand me? Nico, I’m not mad at you, okay?”

Nico sobs again, his other hand moving to hold the side of Will's neck.

“I’m mak—making you sad,” he sobs, his words almost unintelligible, and Will blinks tears out of his eyes.

“Nico, baby, I…”

Nico hides his face in Will's neck again, and Will closes his eyes, holding him.

It takes a while for him to stop crying, and when he finally does, Will leans to grab a tissue from the stand next to the sofa. Nico avoids his eyes, wiping his cheek with the end of his sleeve, taking the tissue silently and blowing his nose as Will pushes his hair back.

Nico sniffles, looking down, holding the tissue balled-up in his fist as he wipes his cheek with his sleeve again roughly. It leaves his skin reddened, and Will touches it gently, rubbing his thumb across his cheek gently.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers. Nico nods, lifting his chin and looking at him. His eyelashes are clumped with tears.

Will leans up and kisses him softly, holding his face in his hands, and Nico exhales, tilting his head as he kisses him back. One of his hands presses to Will's stomach and slides up, catching the fabric of his shirt. His skin is still tacky from his tears, and it sticks to Will’s as they kiss, but he doesn’t mind.

“‘S okay,” he breathes when they part. Nico exhales, pressing their foreheads together, but he doesn’t say anything. “Baby.”

Nico hums weakly. Will fixes his shirt, slowly sliding his arm back into the sleeve before he touches his face again.

Will kisses him again, caressing his face, and Nico exhales, turning his face into his palm.

“Where else?” Will whispers.

Nico takes another breath, shifting and looking down. He starts to pull one of his sleeves up, but Will stops him, setting a gentle hand on top of his.

“You don’t have to show me,” he says softly. “If you don’t want to.”

Nico leans forward and presses his face to Will’s, taking a slow breath, and Will runs his thumb over his knuckles gently.

“Want you to know,” he breathes. “I don’t— I don’t want to hide from you anymore.”

His voice breaks as he says it, and Will’s heart hurts.

“…Okay.”

Nico doesn’t pull his head away as he pulls his sleeves up slowly, exposing the healing cuts on his arms. Will lowers his hands, not looking yet as he reaches to touch his wrists, slowly, gently sliding his fingers over his skin. He can feel the cuts on his fingertips.

Nico exhales sharply, closing his eyes, and he inhales slowly.

“I got you,” Will whispers. Nico nods.

“Nobody— Nobody else has, uhm.” He swallows, taking another slow breath. “Seen them.”

Will’s throat tightens. He brushes his thumbs over Nico’s forearms gently before he reaches up to touch his face.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he murmurs.

Nico nods again, reaching to Will’s face and leaning in to kiss him. Their mouths crash together harder than Will expects, and he furrows his brows in focus, his hands drifting to hold Nico’s forearms. They’re warmer than his fingers are.

“I trust you,” Nico says breathlessly when they part before he kisses him again desperately. Will hugs his waist, sliding a hand up his back gently as he tilts his chin to kiss him. Nico tilts his head, and his lips part, his teeth catching Will’s lower lip and nibbling lightly.

Their foreheads press when they pull away to breathe, and Nico holds his face, his fingertips slipping into his hair. He breathes slowly, intentionally, steadily. Will listens to each breath, tracing his spine over the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.

“Baby?” Nico says after a little while.

“Yeah?”

“…Can we go to your room?”

“Yeah, ‘course. C’mere.”

He pulls at the small of Nico’s back, and Nico hugs his neck, wrapping his legs around Will’s hips as he moves to stand. He wraps an arm around Nico’s waist, holding his bottom as he uses his other hand to push open the living room door.

He sets Nico on the bed gently, and he steps back to shut the door, pausing as Lucita follows them in.

He knows Nico loves his room. He’s told him, gazing around at Will's posters and photos and tapestries, almost smiling. Like he’s wondering. Curious. It’s warmer than Nico’s room at his dad’s. Decorated. Lived in. Safe.

Nico is sitting up as Will goes back to him, pulling the rabbit to himself and hugging it, his legs crossed and drawn to his chest like he’s hiding. His sleeves are still up, and it feels almost odd to see his pale skin.

Will moves onto the bed with him, leaning to kiss his forehead as he sits across from him. Nico moves closer, and their legs wrap around each other, faces close as Will pushes his hair back.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Will asks, touching his face. “Or do you just want some quiet for a while?”

He looks tired. Exhausted. Drained.

He shrugs, still holding the rabbit to himself.

“‘S up to you, honey,” Will says softly.

Nico looks down, turning his face into Will’s hand.

“…We can talk,” he says quietly. He lifts his chin, reaching out to tug at Will’s shirt, and Will leans in to kiss him gently, moving closer. Nico sighs shakily.

“Do you…” He pauses, fingers knotting in Will’s shirt. “Where else?” he asks instead, repeating Will’s own question in a small voice.

“My arms,” Will says.

“Can I see?”

Will nods, leaning back to pull his shirt up over his head. He sets it aside and Nico looks at his scars, pale and criss-crossed across his upper arms, near his shoulders. Nico blinks his eyes like he’s going to cry again, and he touches one of his arms carefully, his fingertips cold as he traces one of the scars.

“How… How long?”

“About eight months,” Will says quietly. Nico nods, sliding his hand over the scars as he looks at his other arm.

“How’d you stop?”

“Took a few tries,” he says. “I’m still…”

He trails off, chest aching at the way Nico’s eyes shine.

“It’s still hard sometimes,” he says softly, setting his hands on Nico’s legs, squeezing his thighs gently. “…I told Vincent and Dahlia. Text them when I want to hurt myself, and one or both of them will come over to hang out with me for a while. Or I’ll go out for a walk by myself. Distract myself.”

Nico blinks at him, listening, hanging onto every word.

“I have an app that, uhm, gives you, like, activities and stuff,” Will says. “To distract you or help you, like… express yourself. In a healthy way.”

Nico doesn’t say anything, his thumb brushing over Will’s scars lightly, absently.

“Talking to a professional helps,” Will adds. “Even though it’s just the school counsellor, she… It helps to talk to someone that actually, like, knows what she’s talking about. You know?”

Nico nods. Will caresses his cheek.

They’re quiet for a few moments, just holding each other, until Nico’s hand tightens on Will’s arm.

“I don’t… I don’t wanna hurt myself anymore.”

Will smiles softly, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

“That’s step one,” he says quietly. “Check.”

Nico finally smiles weakly, and he lets his head fall forward, his forehead pressing to Will’s cheek.

“Does Hazel know?” Will asks, holding the back of his head, his fingers pressing into his hair. Nico shakes his head.

He sniffles softly, lifting his head and wiping a tear that falls down his cheek.

“I— I wanna tell her, but I…” He takes a breath, one of his hands holding the rabbit tightly. “I don’t wanna make her cry,” he says quietly, his voice thin as he holds back another sob.

“She loves you so much,” Will murmurs, kissing his forehead. Nico nods, his shoulder shaking. “She doesn’t want you to hurt, baby.”

“I know,” Nico says, and he takes a shuddering breath, exhaling slowly, his head falling to Will’s shoulder. His hair tickles Will’s bare skin.

“You want me to be there when you tell her?”

“I don’t know,” Nico says, squishing his cheek against Will’s shoulder. “Maybe.”

Will runs his hands over Nico’s back, closing his eyes. Nico’s fingers are cold as they slide over Will’s arms and shoulders, as they find his chest. It almost tickles, how lightly he’s touching him, but Will doesn’t mind. It feels nice.

Lucita makes her way between then, her fur soft on Will’s skin, and Nico lets out a light laugh, looking down at her. Will’s shoulder goes cold where he was laying.

“Can we lay down?” Nico asks after a moment.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Will has to move Lucita, who meows in protest at him, and Nico shifts to kneel as Will moves to lay on his back, smiling when Nico’s eyes look him up and down. Will reaches for the rabbit that’s fallen aside, and he lifts it to his chest, next to where Nico usually lays his head.

“I like your freckles,” Nico says softly, moving closer and touching one that’s on Will’s belly. He’s almost smiling again, his expression light and sleepy. He pauses as Will looks up at him, hesitating for a moment before he pulls at the hem of his sweatshirt, pulling it over his head and sending his hair into a staticky mess. He’s wearing a t-shirt under it, black with KREATOR across the chest in red, blocky letters above some kind of demon creature. Will snorts.

“Shut up,” Nico says, suppressing a smile and dropping his sweatshirt over the edge of the bed. Lucita hops over Will’s chest and settles next to him, her head resting on his arm.

Nico slides a hand over Will’s stomach, gazing before he moves closer, leaning over to press a soft kiss to his skin. Will’s throat tightens, and he tries to pretend his eyes aren’t burning as Nico does it again, kissing another freckle. And then another. And another. Working his way slowly up Will’s stomach, chest, collarbones. Pausing to kiss his scars gently, moving up to his neck, where he lingers.

He lays down next to Will without pulling away, sighing as he stretches his legs out and slides his hand across Will's chest. Will closes his eyes, wrapping his arm around him.

“You’re so pretty,” Nico murmurs. Will’s cheeks flush with heat. Nico kisses his neck again, aiming for a freckle Will knows is there.

And then he’s touching Will's chin lightly, and Will turns to look at him. Nico’s eyes are shining, and his fingertips are soft on Will’s jaw. Will turns his face into his hand and kisses his palm.

“Thank you,” Nico says quietly.

“For what?”

“Just…” He shrugs. “Being so nice.”

Will blinks.

“You don’t have to thank me for being nice to you, Ni,” he says. “You’re my boyfriend. If I’m mean to you, you better dump me.”

Nico’s eyes close as he smiles, and he slides his hand over Will’s cheek.

“Good thing you’re nice, then.”

He looks like he’s going to fall asleep, eyes half-shut.

“You deserve niceness,” Will whispers, reaching to hold his wrist, moving his hand from where Lucitanis laying on it. “Even if you don’t think you do.”

Nico looks at him.

He opens his mouth to speak, but he’s interrupted when Lucita hops into the small gap between them, startling them both. Nico’s hand jerks back from Will’s face, and Will jumps.

“Jesus,” Will says sharply, and a laugh bursts out of Nico as Lucita settles between them happily. “We are having a moment here,” he says, watching Nico pet Lucita’s head, scratching behind her ear.

“She just wants to be included,” he says fondly. “But I’m gonna annoy her again because she’s in the way right now.”

He sighs and sits up, scooping Lucita with one arm and sliding her away from Will, who watches with a raised eyebrow. And then Nico is moving around her, moving to lay on top of Will, burying his face in his neck as Will wraps his arms around him. Nico hums.

“You're so warm.”

“‘S okay?”

“Mhmm,” Nico hums, nuzzling into his neck, his legs drawing up around Will’s hips like he’s trying to be as small as possible. “‘S ‘cause you’re hot.”

Will snorts, and Nico snickers into his neck.

“You’re a dork.”

“You’re a dork.”

“We match.”

“Aw. That’s cute.”

Will laughs softly, one of his hands tracing the hem of Nico’s t-shirt where it’s risen at the small of his back.

“Is this okay?” he asks, dipping his fingertips under it to touch his skin.

“Yeah,” Nico breathes. “Feels good.”

Will smiles, pressing his hand to his back under his shirt, his stomach fluttering when Nico moans softly.

“I like when you touch me,” Nico murmurs.

“I like touching you.”

Nico hums quietly.

They stay there for a while, not sleeping, but just holding each other. Will traces shapes over the small of Nico’s back, fingertips light, and Nico traces shapes over his chest. It tickles a little bit as Nico touches his freckles. He might be kind of obsessed with them. Will keeps catching his staring at his face, at his hands, absently smiling. But when Will asked a few days ago You like my sun damage, Nico? he just rolled his eyes.

Lucita lays next to Will, and Nico reaches to pet her as she rolls onto her back, purring.

Nico presses a kiss to the side of Will’s neck and Will hums quietly. He can feel each of Nico’s soft breaths against his skin, warm and gentle, and he can hear Nico’s heartbeat when he focuses.

And he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so comfortable. Even though he’s shirtless, which he usually tries to avoid at all cost, self conscious of the softness of his belly and hips, of the freckles spotting his skin, the dusting of hair on his chest. Nico seems to like it all. He presses his fingers into Will’s sides as they kiss or talk, and right now his fingertips are dancing over Will’s freckles lightly.

Will watches, head tilted to see Nico’s hand, and he never really noticed how tan he really was until now. Nico looks even paler than he usually does, his skin touching Will’s.

And Will thinks they’re beautiful.

“Can I tell you something?” Nico says after a while, his voice muffled because his cheek is squished against Will’s chest.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Nico sits up, straddling Will’s hips. His cheek is pink.

He slides a hand over Will’s chest, looking down. The band of his ring is warm as it slides over Will’s skin, and Will sets his hands on Nico’s hips, waiting as Nico looks at him.

“I’ve been thinking,” Nico says.

Will blinks.

“Okay,” he says lightly. He pushes himself to sit up, moving back against the headboard of his bed with Nico in his lap. Nico is sitting closer now, his fingers tracing Will’s clavicle as he smiles.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he says. Will scoffs, sliding his hands over Nico’s back and slipping them under the hem of his shirt.

“Okay,” he says again.

“I’ve been thinking,” Nico repeats, looking down at Will’s chest, shy. His fingers press into Will’s skin like he’s watching it go pale under his fingertips. “Like. For a while. About, uhm, what you said… the first night I stayed over.”

“What did I say?” Will asks softly, stroking his back gently.

“Uhm.” Nico closes his eyes for a moment. “That feels good.”

Will smiles, pressing his hand against his back, spreading his fingers, and Nico’s lips curve into a bashful smile as his cheek flush pink.

“You said, uhm. About— About how people…” He swallows, pausing, taking a breath. “About how people, like, live their lives, and— and make connections with other people, and, like… fall in love with people and stuff. Even though they know that, uhm. Grief is… inevitable.”

“Right,” Will says softly, running a hand over his back soothingly.

“I just…” Nico trails a finger down the center of Will’s chest, over his heart. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

He looks like he wants to keep talking, but he twists his mouth to the side like he’s thinking, touching Will’s collarbone. Will waits.

Nico kisses him. Chastely, shyly. Will smiles.

Then Nico kisses him again, sliding his hands up to hold his neck gently, kissing him slowly and tenderly, and Will feels like he’s fucking floating. He shivers when Nico’s fingertips trail over the sides of his neck.

Nico pulls away after a few moments, taking a soft breath, pressing his forehead to Will’s.

“I think…” Nico is speaking quietly, shyly, his voice almost just a whisper. It kind of sounds like the passing cars outside. “I’m falling in love with you.”

Will’s arms wrap around him tightly, and he beams.

“Really?” he says, looking up into Nico’s eyes. Nico suppresses a shy smile.

“You’re like a puppy,” he says, running a hand through Will’s hair and pushing it back. Will’s smile widens, and he sets his chin on Nico’s chest, looking up at him. “…Is that okay?”

“Is that okay?” Will repeats dramatically, and Nico giggles, closing his eyes. “Is that okay? Nico, you’re the man of my fucking dreams, of course it’s okay. Jesus.”

Nico giggles again, his cheeks pink, and Will reaches up to hold his face.

“Honey,” he says. “Sweetheart. My sweet darling demon.”

Nico’s nose scrunches, and he holds Will’s face back as Will leans up to kiss him chastely.

“I’m falling in love with you too,” he whispers.

Nico’s expression softens.

“Still?” he says softly.

Will’s chest aches.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Nico’s chin. “Don’t think there’s much you could do to stop me.”

Nico laughs softly, leaning down to kiss him messily, lips still smiling, and Will hugs his waist tightly, head tilting back to kiss him. Nico’s fingers twist into his hair, tugging it gently when Will nips at his lower lip.

Will pulls back for a moment, kissing Nico’s neck and then peppering kisses down his neck, over his shoulder, down his arm, over his scars until he reaches his fingertips. And then he kisses back up his arm, letting Nico set his hand on his shoulder as he does the other side.

Nico’s head tilts back when Will kisses his neck again, pressing his lips softly to his throat.

“Will,” Nico says weakly. His accent is stronger right now. Will smiles.

“Yeah,” he mumbles against his throat.

Nico is quiet for a moment, pushing one of his hands into Will’s hair and tugging it gently.

“…I love you.”

Will smiles against his neck, pressing a hand into the small of his back.

“I love you too.”

Will lifts his head after kissing the cut of his jaw softly. Nico is biting his lip, and he swallows, blinking his eyes rapidly for a moment.

Will looks up into his eyes, smiling softly when he sees how glassy they are.

“Okay?” he whispers.

Nico nods, sniffling, and he leans down to kiss him softly before he pulls away and wipes his cheek. Will swats his hand away and does it himself as Nico giggles softly.

Nico’s cheek is so soft. His eyelashes are wet, and his eyes are shining, his cheeks rosy, and Will feels like his knees would give out if he was standing right now.

“You’re so beautiful,” Will murmurs.

Nico just kisses him again, but they’re interrupted when Lucita gives a loud meow and paws at Nico’s leg. Nico lets out a wet giggle, wiping his cheek again, and they both turn to look at her, sitting and looking up at them almost politely as she paws at Nico again.

“You’re so needy,” Will says dramatically to her as Nico lifts her up, burying his face in her belly as he flips her onto her back. Nico sighs heavily, slowly, and Will holds his waist, leaning back against the headboard.

Nico looks at him as Lucita gets settled against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, and Will can’t quite read his expression.

“What is it?” he asks, running his thumbs over Nico’s waist.

Nico just shrugs.

“Love you.”

Will’s chest feels warm. He leans over Lucita between them and kisses Nico’s cheek.

“Love you too.”

Chapter Text

Will’s mom comes home and finds them there, cuddled in bed with Lucita, and they’re both red-faced because Will is still shirtless. But she doesn’t seem to care at all, probably because otherwise they’re both fully dressed and holding a cat.

Nico doesn’t hide his arms. And she doesn’t say anything until after dinner. Will knows what’s coming when he sees her rummaging through a first aid kit, and he kind of wants to cry when he remembers what she did a few years ago.

She calls Nico to the table as Nico is helping Will put away the dishes, and he sits with her at the table nervously after Will kisses his forehead and takes the towel. He crosses his legs, eyeing the first aid kit.

“Vale,” Will’s mom says, moving a little closer to Nico. “Okay. I know stop is easier said than done, yes? But if you’ll do it, you’ll do it safely, okay?”

“Okay,” Nico says quietly, watching with wide eyes.

“Okay,” she says. “If it’s too deep, you might need stitches, you know that. If you need to, you call Will,” she says, gesturing toward Will, who’s leaning against the counter, “or you call me. We’ll take you to the hospital, take care of you. If it’s an emergency you call 911.”

He nods, drawing his knees to his chest.

“To clean,” she continues. “Clean water, no antiseptic. Antiseptic might slow the healing, okay?”

Another nod.

“Keep pressure on it, with tissue or gauze. When it stops bleeding, you bandage. May I?” She gestures toward Nico’s arm, and he nods, holding it out, watching with his head a little ducked as she gently pulls it closer, analysing his cuts and scars, touching them lightly. “How long ago?”

“Uhm. Like a week.”

Will looks at the floor, closing his eyes. His chest hurts. His eyes burn a little.

He should have known. He should have talked to him sooner, brought it up sooner. Maybe he should have let Nico see his scars that day he showed him his tattoo.

“Okay,” his mom says. “It’s irritated because it’s healing, so it’s itchy, yes?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Moisturizer helps itching. If it’s too hot, or it’s swelling, or there’s fluid, it might be infected, you call Will or me. To bandage— I show you?”

“Uh, yeah, okay.”

She demonstrates, describing it all quietly as she shows him how to bandage his arm, how to clip the bandages in place, how to tape gauze in place.

Will remembers her showing him all of this a few years ago, even though he already knew it all.

And he remembers the tears.

God, there were so many tears.

His mom rolls the bandages up and puts them with some medical tape and gauze, sliding them toward Nico.

“These are for you.” And then she looks at him sternly. “No scratching at scabs. Okay? Will would do it all time, it drove me crazy—”

Will scoffs, and Nico looks at him, half smiling, wrapping his arms around his legs.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he says defensively. “It just itched so I scratched without noticing—”

“Shush,” she says, holding up a hand to silence him, and it elicits a small giggle from Nico. “No itching.”

“No itching,” he repeats softly.

“Okay,” she says. She holds her hands out for Nico’s, and he places them in hers hesitantly, looking at her with shining eyes. Will’s chest tightens. “Darling. You listen closely, okay?”

Nico nods, quiet.

“You’re not alone in this,” she says quietly, and Will can hear the tenseness in her voice, can tell that she’s holding back tears. And a part of him wants to smile because she fucking loves Nico, even though they’ve barely spent any time together. And Will kind of thinks she might love him because she knows Will loves him. Because she knew Will loved him before he knew he loved him.

“I don’t know everything you’re going through,” she continues, and Will blinks tears back. “And I don’t need to,” she says reassuringly. Nico’s eyes are glistening again. “But I know that it’s going to get easier, okay? I know it seems impossible sometimes.”

She’s whispering now, and Nico is crying again. She reaches up to wipe a tear tenderly before she holds his cheek. Her skin is a little darker than Will’s, but her nails are pale pink, almost the same color as the blush on Nico’s cheeks.

Will feels sore, looking at them. Like his whole life is in his kitchen.

“It’s going to get easier,” his mom says quietly. “I promise, Nico. Okay?”

He nods, sniffling, and she beckons gently before he lets his legs fall and hugs her tightly. She hugs him back, leaning over to him, and she murmurs something that Will can’t hear.

Nico is crying into her shoulder, and Will’s chest feels tight as he wonders when Nico last hugged someone that wasn’t him.

She kisses Nico’s forehead when they part, and Nico wipes his face, looking up at Will, who swallows with a tight throat before going to him. He leans down, holding his face and kissing his forehead as his mom tidies and closes the first aid kit.

“Okay?” he asks softly, brushing his thumbs over Nico’s tear-tacky cheeks. Nico nods. “You wanna change into pajamas and we can watch a movie?”

Nico nods again, lifting his chin shyly, nervously because Will’s mom is literally right in front of them, but Will leans in and kisses him softly anyway.

Nico picks up the bandages, gauze, and tape, and then he heads to Will’s room, where his backpack is sitting with Will’s under his desk, and Will watches. Lucita follows Nico.

“Mijo,” his mom says behind him, and he turns, pressing his lips together. She’s standing now, and when he faces her, she reaches up to hold his face. “Escúchame.”

He nods. He already knows what she’s going to say. It’s like she can read his mind sometimes.

“You are not responsible for this,” she says slowly, carefully. “You understand?”

He nods, but his eyes sting and his throat is tight and he knows he’s going to cry if she keeps talking. And of course she does.

“He didn’t want you to know, nene, it’s not your fault. You can’t kiss something like this better.”

“I know,” he says weakly, a tear escaping his eyes. She wipes it away, pulling him down and kissing his forehead.

“But it’s going to be okay,” she says softly. “You give him all your love. You be patient, and kind,” she says, looking into his eyes. “To him and yourself. Understand?”

He nods.

She goes to put the first aid kit away again, and Will waist until Nico emerges from his room. He’s wearing one of Will’s t-shirts, pale blue with a human figure on it. It’s short-sleeved, but it’s so big that the sleeves hang down to his elbows. It looks out of place on him, and Will blinks, used to seeing him in black or grey.

Will leans against the table, and Nico steps in front of him, reaching up to hold his face as he kisses him.

“I love you so much,” Will murmurs against his mouth. Nico kisses him again.

“I love you so much too.”

Will smiles.

His mom goes to bed earlier than them as they’re settling on the sofa, kissing both their foreheads as she says goodnight.

Nico leans against Will on the sofa, an arm across his stomach as Will runs his fingers through his hair gently. It’s dark during the movie, the lights all off, and Will thinks he could fall asleep here.

Nico slips his hand under Will’s shirt after a little while, fingertips cold against Will’s skin as he presses gently, absently.

“Will?” Nico says after a while.

“Mhmm?”

“…Is the counsellor at school nice?”

Will glances down at him. His other hand is touching his forearm, thumb brushing back and forth softly.

“Yeah,” he says. “She’s really nice. You talked to her, didn’t you?”

“Only once,” Nico says quietly. “But I think… I might want to talk to her. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“You can think about it,” Will says, kissing the top of his head. “Take your time.”

“I’m scared she’ll call my dad.”

“She won’t without your permission,” Will tells him. “Confidentiality and everything.”

Nico hums softly.

“I like your mom,” he says after a few moments. “She’s really nice.”

“She is.” Will moves down, and Nico shifts, his head on Will’s shoulder.

“I think she would have gotten along with my mom.”

“Probably,” Will says lightly, scratching Nico’s scalp gently with his fingertips. Nico sighs heavily. “You okay?”

Nico is quiet for a moment, his cheek pressing to Will’s chest, fingers pressing into his side.

“...I will be.”

“‘S right,” Will murmurs against his head. Nico sighs again.

—————

bonechurch: amore

willsoulless: omg that’s cute
willsoulless: hi what’s up my darling

bonechurch: i told hazel

willsoulless: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
willsoulless: how did it go

bonechurch: good
bonechurch: there were many tears
bonechurch: but good
bonechurch: i am tired
bonechurch: can you come over

willsoulless: i’m finishing some errands for my mom
willsoulless: but i will head over as soon as i’m done
willsoulless: love u love u love u

bonechurch: okay
bonechurch: love you

Will stops by his apartment to drop off the groceries and put them away quickly before he leaves again, pecking Lucita’s head as she watches from the table. It’s drizzling outside, raining so lightly it’s almost mist, the sky grey and dreary. His hair is damp by the time he gets to Nico’s apartment building.

Hazel lets him in.

It’s obvious she’s been crying when he comes inside and takes off his jacket, hanging it up as she waits. Her eyes are still a little glassy, her eyelashes wet, and when Will turns to her, she smiles shakily and holds her arms up. He has to lean down to hug her because she’s smaller than Nico, but her arms are strong around him as she embraces him, on her tiptoes. It’s a quiet few seconds as they hold each other until they let go. Hazel sniffles, smiling, wiping her cheek.

“Alright?” Will asks gently. She nods.

“I, uhm…” She pauses, looking at him. She stands out in the entrance of the apartment, her skin warm, her hair dark and spotted with small sparkly clips. Her cardigan is dark red, her necklace rose gold. She’s like a lit hearth in an abandoned house. “Wanted to thank you?”

“…For…”

“Nico,” she says softly. “Just… He’s had a really fucking hard time since the accident. And I just… You make him so happy.”

Will’s stomach flutters, and he looks down bashfully.

“And he feels so safe with you,” she continues. “He talks about you all the time, about, like, how funny you are and how cozy your place is.”

Will laughs lightly, and she’s smiling brightly up at him. She and Nico have similar smiles.

“I don’t even feel like you need a shovel talk,” she says lightly, and he lets out another laugh. “Y’know, break his heart and I’ll break your face, et cetera.”

He rubs his cheek, looking down again.

“Honestly, I… I would rather walk off the face of the Earth than hurt your brother.”

She gives him a grin, her nose scrunching, and apparently being adorable runs in the family, because Will kind of wants to squish her cheeks. He refrains.

She gives him one more hug before telling him Nico is in his room, and Will thanks her and pecks her forehead. She giggles.

Will knocks on Nico’s door gently before he opens it, and Nico is sitting on his bed, sketchbook in his lap. He looks up when Will comes in and shuts the door, smiling across the room at him.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi.”

Will slips his shoes off and leaves them by Nico’s door before he joins him on the bed, crawling over and looking at his sketchbook. He’s got his phone open next to it, displaying a photo of Will that he’s sketching onto the paper. Will looks at him, raising his eyebrows, and Nico looks at him blankly, clicking off his phone and tossing his sketchbook away.

“You love me-e-e…” Will teases, leaning in and kissing him chastely. Nico suppresses a smile, scrunching his nose (it definitely runs in the family).

“How are you?” Will asks, sitting cross-legged across from him, pulling at Nico’s legs gently so they’re resting over Will’s.

“I’m good,” he says softly. “I’m tired.”

Will hums sympathetically, touching his face, and he finally realizes what he’s wearing. A dark red hoodie with their school's logo on the front, a hoodie that Will knows has SOLACE across the back. He looks at Nico’s face again, and Nico has his head tilted, eyes sparkling, amused.

“When did you steal that?” Will asks. Nico just shrugs exaggeratedly. “You’re a menace.”

“Your mom helped me.”

“She’s a menace too.”

Nico giggles, leaning in and kissing him softly before he moves closer to sit in his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“Your hair’s wet.”

“It’s raining a little.”

Will shakes his head furiously even though he did this in the elevator, and Nico squeals, turning away as water sprays his face. There’s barely any water, but he wipes his face dramatically while Will laughs.

“How was it?” Will asks, hands sliding over Nico’s waist.

“Good,” Nico says. He traces a line over Will’s neck lightly, connecting two freckles with a light fingertip. “I asked if we could talk and, uhm. Told her I’m okay, but that it was kind of serious.”

“Mhmm.” Will slips a hand under the hoodie, pressing to Nico’s waist.

“…Told her,” Nico says quietly. “Showed her.”

“Mhmm.”

“We cried,” Nico says, sighing. “She said she loves
me. I told her about what your mom gave me and stuff.”

“How do you feel?”

Nico sighs again, picking at the collar of Will’s shirt absently, watching.

“Better,” he says after a moment. Will smiles softly, tracing up to touch his face, and he kisses him softly.

“Was gonna tell you something else,” Nico says when they part, his lips brushing Will’s, his hand holding the nape of his neck under his hair.

“What is it?” Will murmurs.

“…I threw away my razors.”

Will blinks, slowly lifting his head to look into his shining eyes.

“You did?”

Nico nods, half-smiling.

“Last time I took the trash out,” he says quietly. “I made sure to wrap them in newspaper and everything so they don’t damage anything or rip the bag and stuff.”

Will’s chest aches, and he holds his face in his hands, his eyes stinging.

“How do you feel about it?” he asks softly, because if he speaks up his voice will crack.

Nico blinks at him, relaxing into his hands.

“I don’t know?” he says hesitantly. “I think I feel better, but… when I remember I don’t have them anymore, it… makes me anxious. My chest gets all tight and I— I feel like I need them, but I’m…”

He exhales shakily, and Will nods, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks.

“Reminding myself,” Nico says quietly. “That it’s good if I don’t have them.”

“What about, like…” He hesitates. “Will you feel tempted? To use other things?”

Nico shrugs, twisting his mouth thoughtfully.

“I don’t think so,” he says. “But I don’t know. I don’t have anything else sharp in here, and I don’t think I’ll feel tempted with the kitchen knives or anything. But if I do I’ll tell Hazel,” he adds, looking into Will’s eyes. Will nods, smiling softly.

“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you,” he says softly, kissing him gently. Nico smiles at him, cheeks flushed pink, shoulders hunching bashfully. His hands are soft on Will’s shoulders as he touches him, squeezing gently as Will kisses him again, lingering.

Nico hums softly, tilting his head and biting Will’s lip gently, and Will pushes his fingers into his hair, pulling it back, away from Nico’s neck. Nico smiles against his mouth, sliding his hands down to his waist and pulling him closer before he pulls away for a breath.

Nico is still smiling when Will’s eyes flutter open to see him, still so close that he’s blurry. His cheeks are pink. Will kisses him again.

He pushes Nico back gently, slowly, and Nico goes easily, wrapping his legs around Will’s hips and his arms around his neck as Will hovers above him. He props himself up on a forearm next to Nico’s head, humming softly as Nico sucks on his lower lip.

Nico is always so sweet like this. Humming and whimpering and murmuring to Will, smiling and pressing against him. Playing with his hair. His back arching so Will’s hand can slide across it, legs tightening around him to pull him closer.

He tastes sweet too. Like he was eating fruit gummies before Will came over.

Nico’s hands tighten on the back of Will’s shirt and tug lightly. He pulls back, breathing hard, nose nudging against Will’s.

“Can you take this off?” he whispers. Will smiles, sitting up and looking down at Nico. His hair is spread out on his pillow, curls messy and tangled, and his cheeks are rosy, his eyes shining. Fuck.

Will pulls his shirt over his head, smiling when Nico immediately reaches up to touch him, his hand sliding across his belly and hip, just above the waistband of his pants.

“You’re so pretty,” Nico says softly as Will sets his shirt aside and leans back down, kissing Nico’s cheek gently.

“You are too.”

“I like your freckles.”

“I know.”

Nico’s palms are warm as he slides them over Will’s back and shoulders, fingertips pressing into Will’s skin as he kisses him again. Will hums, moving a hand down to slide under the hoodie Nico’s wearing, pressing to his waist.

He pulls back for a gasp of air when Nico pushes him away, but he’s barely even opened his eyes when Nico is rolling them over so Will is on his back. Will giggles, falling over, and Nico kisses him again, his hand sliding over his chest smoothly, his head tilting to kiss him deeply. Will’s stomach flutters.

It’s so quiet in Nico’s room, in a different way than it usually is in Will’s. Like every sound they make echoes, bounces off the empty walls. Nico lets out a soft moan as he licks into Will’s mouth, and Will smiles, touching his face. (His cheeks are soft.) Nico’s hand presses against his belly, fingers curling to scratch lightly, and Will hums.

Nico smiles against his mouth, pulling away enough to glance at him as Will’s hand slips under the hoodie again, fingertips pressing into his back.

Nico shifts to hover above Will, kissing him again as Will slowly drags the hem of his hoodie up his back, his other hands moving to slide over his skin.

They startle apart when there’s a knock at the door a second before it swings open.

“Hey, I’m— Whoa?”

Hazel stares at them for a moment, all three frozen in place.

“That was fast.”

“Hazel,” Will complains, letting his head fall back as Nico sits up, straddling Will’s hips, and snatches a pillow from the head of the bed before he throws it at Hazel.

She cackles, turning and shutting the door behind herself, and Will grins at the sound of her muffled laughter.

“I’m going to meet Frank,” she calls through the door. “I’ll be gone for a while, have fun!”

Nico just groans loudly, and she cackles again, tapping the door lightly before she goes. Will’s hands find Nico’s hips, holding him as he looks up at him happily, and Nico sighs before looking back at him. His cheeks are pink.

“She’s never gonna let us live that down.”

“Probably not,” Will says lightly. Nico sighs again.

And then he leans down, brushing away Will’s hair, lips pressing to his forehead before he sits up again. Will’s fingertips slip under the hem of the hoodie, pressing to his skin, and Nico smiles, cheeks reddening as he reaches down to the hem and pulls it up.

Will slides his hand over Nico’s torso as he pulls his hoodie up, but it gets caught around his head, and Nico groans.

“Why does this always happen—”

Will laughs, reaching up to sort it out. When he sets it aside, Nico’s hair is messy, and his eyes are closed as he smiles, and Will is kissing him before he can even think. Nico’s arms wrap around Will’s neck, his skin cool as it slides against Will’s. Nico hums quietly, lips parting for Will’s tongue, smiling as Will’s hands slide over his sides, over his spine.

His skin is warm from the hoodie. He tends to not wear shirts under hoodies, Will’s noticed, letting the soft fabric touch his skin. Will likes to slip his fingertips under them, run his thumbs over the soft flesh above the waistbands of his pants. He does this now, pressing against his skin, tilting his head as Nico presses closer to him, kissing him deeper.

Will slides a hand down farther, over the thick fabric of his sweatpants, squeezing gently, and Nico’s breath catches in his throat. Will pulls away just enough to look at him, hand pausing. Nico is breathing hard, lips shining, cheeks flushed. Eyes closed.

“Alright?” Will checks quietly, murmuring.

“Mhmm.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Will murmurs. “You want another kiss?”

Nico exhales, hips shifting, and Will’s hand tightens again. Nico’s eyes are closed peacefully like he’s sleeping, and he could be if it weren’t for the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the way his teeth are holding his lower lip in place.

“Mhmm,” he hums again, nodding.

“You’re so beautiful,” Will breathes without thinking. Nico’s cheeks flush with color, and he lifts his chin.

Will kisses him again softly, slowly. Sweetly. Nico holds his face, fingers on his cheeks and pressing under his jaw like he’s scared to let go as Will turns slowly. He lowers Nico to his back again, careful and gentle and slow, and Nico’s legs wrap around his hips, pulling him close. They let out simultaneous breaths, panting into each other’s mouths, and Nico grins, his fingers sliding into Will’s hair.

Will closes his eyes, sighing softly before he kisses Nico’s cheek, his jaw, down his neck slowly, pausing to nibble and suck and lick until Nico’s head is tilted back, until he’s fucking writhing.

“I love you,” Nico gasps, hand holding the back of Will’s head, fingers twisted in his hair. Will grins into his neck, lingering at a spot under his ear, sucking a bruise into his skin as Nico’s hand tightens in his hair, as he whines weakly.

Will doesn’t stop, kissing and kissing as Nico lifts his chin to bare his throat to him. Nico’s hands slip between them slowly, tentatively, and Will smiles, shifting to let him. Nico’s fingers find the waistband of Will’s jeans, tugging lightly as he exhales slowly.

Will nods into his neck, nuzzling closer and exhaling shakily as Nico’s fingers deftly undo the button of his jeans. And he smiles.

— — — — —

It’s dim in Nico’s room when Will finally looks at him. He’s bare, curled up against Will’s chest, skin pale and glowing a little bit, fingers tracing shapes over Will’s skin. He feels Will look at him, and his eyes cut up to him, shining shyly as he blushes and looks away, suppressing a bashful smile.

Will’s chest feels warm inside. Like his heart has a fireplace in it. Nico stokes the flames.

Will shifts and pulls him closer.

— — — — —

They’re watching a movie when Hazel comes home. It’s dark out, and Nico’s room is dim as he leans against Will, hands running over his forearm that’s draped around him. They hear the front door closed, the sound muffled behind the walls (which are thicker than the ones at Will’s) and Nico’s shut door, and a few moments later, there’s a knock. Nico laughs softly, sighing before he calls a, “Yes?”

Hazel comes inside wordlessly, closing the door behind herself as Will reaches out to pause the movie. She drops her jacket to the floor, and then falls onto Nico’s bed, face down, unmoving. Will blinks at her.

“Hello?” he says cautiously. She groans into the bed. Nico scoffs and sits up a little, Will’s arm falling from around him.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “You didn’t have a good time?”

“I did,” she says adamantly, voice muffled. “I had such a good time. It was a good time.”

“So why do you look like you’re having an existential crisis?” Will asks, shifting to look at her, watching as she rolls over onto her back, looking up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath, sighing heavily.

“He’s so…”

“He’s so…” Nico repeats, nudging her with his foot. (His socks are fuzzy and striped black and orange.) She tosses her arms over her face, hiding behind them as she groans again.

“Nice,” she says, voice muffled again. “And funny. And sweet. And I like him a lot.” She moves, rolling over and propping herself up on her elbows as she looks at Nico with wide eyes. Will glances at him. He’s watching Hazel with a soft, amused smile. His hair is still messy from earlier. “Like… A lot a lot. I like him a lot. Does he like me too?” she asks like the thought’s just occurred to her. “Do you think he likes me too?”

“Yes,” Nico says with hesitation.

“You said that really fast.”

“Well, you’d complain if I had hesitated, and also I didn’t need to think about it. I know he likes you.”

She groans again, dropping her head.

“Who are we talking about?” Will finally asks.

“Hazel’s boyfriend…” Nico says teasingly, nudging her with his foot again, and he giggles and leans back as she reaches out to one of his pillows and swings it at him without lifting her head. “Frank. He’s in our grade.”

“Oh,” Will says, blinking again. “Zhang?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, he’s in my U.S. history class,” Will says brightly. “He’s so nice.”

Hazel groans loudly, dramatically, similarly to how Nico did earlier today when she told them to have fun. Will laughs lightly, and Nico bump their shoulders together fondly, absentmindedly.

“Are you guys going out?” Will asks Hazel, nudging her himself. She doesn’t budge.

“Kind of,” she mumbles into the bed. “I don’t know. I’m scared to ask. I don’t know how to ask. I kinda really wanna be.”

“You should just text him,” Nico says, and this prompts Hazel to finally lift her head to glare at him. Her hair is falling in her face, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you insane?” she says sharply. “That is not a text conversation.”

“Call him,” Nico shrugs. She just rolls her eyes and drops her head back to the bed, groaning once again.

“No.”

“Talk to him next time you go out,” Will suggests lightly. “When you’re alone and you have privacy, but you’re still face-to-face. Just, like, casually ask if it’s a date or whatever.”

She groans louder.

“Is everyone in your family this dramatic?” Will asks, amused.

“Yes,” Nico says, wide-eyed. “Bianca once threatened to disown me because I closed a door in her face.”

“Could she have done that?” Will questions. “Can siblings disown younger siblings?”

“I’m pretty sure they can,” Nico says. “And even if they can’t, she would have found a way. I got her forgiveness by doing her chores that day.”

His eyes are shining as he talks about her, sparkling almost excitedly, smiling. Will’s chest aches.

“Why do you think Frank likes me?” Hazel says. “What makes you think that?”

“Because I saw you guys in the hallway, like, two weeks ago, and he was smiling like you’re the funniest person in the world—”

“I’m hilarious.”

“—And then when you guys said bye, he looked back at you before you were out of sight.”

“Shut up, he did not.”

“He one-hundred-percent did. I know what I saw.”

(Will has definitely looked back after parting ways with Nico on more than one occasion.)

Hazel sighs heavily again before she moves, crawling up Nico’s bed until she’s laying on her front between them, face still hidden in the bed. Will and Nico look at each other over her, laughing, and then Nico shifts to lay next to her, throwing an arm around her waist and hugging her tightly.

“He likes you…” he says in a soft, sing-songy voice. She lets out a rumbly sound like an annoyed cat. Nico sighs and closes his eyes, burying his face in her hair as he pulls her closer. Will moves to lay next to Hazel, reaching to run his hand over Nico’s forearm gently. Hazel sighs and hums softly as Will moves closer to her, sandwiching her between himself and Nico. He sees the way Nico’s eyes crinkles under his smiles over her head.

— — — — —

Nico is being weird.

Not too weird, just… His smiles are tighter lately. They don’t seem to reach his eyes until after Will kisses him or says something about how pretty he is. (That always gets him to smile all bashfully and flush all pink. So pretty.)

Will checks in with him every chance he gets. Asks how he’s doing, if he wants to hang out with Will after school, wants to have a sleepover. But Nico keeps saying no, opting to walk home alone with his headphones on, promising to text Will when he gets home. (Which he does, even including selfies in the elevator, face hidden behind his phone, hand raised in a loose peace sign.) He promises Will he hasn’t hurt himself when he realizes that he’s worrying him, smiling and lifting his chin for a kiss. (Will obliges. He could never not kiss him.)

Will texts Hazel just in case, asking if Nico is doing okay, if he’s said anything worrying recently, but Hazel says he seems to be fine. He just wants some alone time, I think.

So Will leaves him alone. Kisses him goodbye after school, lets their hugs linger a little bit because Nico hesitates before he lets go, texts him goodnight. And it lasts long enough that it become routine: kiss, hug, Text me when you get home. And Will misses him.

— — — — —

It’s a few weeks before Nico finally reaches out, and Will is grateful to see the notification on his phone screen when he finishes with the dishes. He’s drying his hands as he’s reading it, leaning over the dining table. Lucita is laying next to his phone.

bonechurch: amore
bonechurch: can you come over

And Will immediately tosses the towel aside, snatching his phone to respond as butterflies flutter in his stomach at the amore.

willsoulless: yes of course
willsoulless: right now?

bonechurch: yes please

willsoulless: omw see you soon

bonechurch: <3

Nico opens the door for him a little awkwardly, like it’s been weeks since they’ve seen each other even though it was only yesterday that they said goodbye after school and then last night that they texted each other goodnight. Will pulls his hat off and hangs his coat as Nico waits, hands stuck in his pockets. He’s wearing one of Will’s sweaters again, one that he must have stolen ages ago. Will follows him to his room, slowly meandering. It’s quiet in the apartment. Nico’s dad isn’t home (he usually isn’t), and Hazel isn’t here either, unless she’s taking a nap or something. Will assumes she’s out with Frank.

“Uhm,” Nico says nervously after shutting the door behind himself even though they’re alone. Will sits on his bed, looking at him. There’s a brief moment before Nico looks like he melts, face crumbling as he moves to stand in front of Will, reaching to hold his face between his hands as he kisses him. It’s a desperate kiss, like they’ve been apart even though it’s been less than a day. Will reaches up to hold his waist, closing his eyes as he kisses him back.

Nico exhales when they part, pressing their foreheads together as he holds Will close.

“I, uhm…” he says weakly, voice breathy.

“What’s going on?” Will whispers.

“Just… I— I needed to, uhm, talk to you.”

“Okay,” Will says softly, lifting his head and looking at him. Nico blinks his eyes open, thubs brushing ober Will’s cheeks, over his freckles.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he says, a smiling teasing his lips, and Will smiles back, tilting his head as he says, “Okay,” again. “I just… Kind of think you might… You might want to break up with me.”

Will blinks, faltering, hands still holding Nico’s waist.

“Why… Why would I want to break up with you?” he says quietly. Nico looks away, moving away so their hands fall.

“I, uhm.”

He swallows, rubbing his face as he looks away, and his eyes look like they’re shining now, glistening with tears, and Will’s stomach twists, anxiety tangling in his chest as he watches Nico step side to side. It’s quiet for a few moments, as Will watches, as Nico fidgets, thinks, chews on his fingernail.

“You… You ruined—” Nico cuts himself off, furrowing his brows and closing his eyes.

“I ruined what?” Will asks, blinking in confusion, but Nico’s cheeks flush pink.

“No, that— that came out wrong, I—” He exhales sharply, rubbing his face harshly, and he steps away, pacing, frustrated as Will waits patiently. Nico is shaking, breaths trembling as he hides his face behind his hands, as he steps back and forth. One of the sleeves of he sweater falls because it’s at least two sizes too big for him, and Will sees his scars; he’s clean, and Will feels a flash of pride burst in his chest alongside the anxiety. He’s starting to shake too, because his boy is so… whatever it is. Stressed, or scared, or something.

“I was supposed to leave!” Nico bursts finally, looking at Will desperately. There are tears on his cheeks now. He wipes them away.

“To leave?” Will says softly.

“I was— I was supposed to leave,” Nico repeats. “I was going to leave, I was going to run away after graduation.”

Will is quiet, listening, watching. Processing.

“To leave?” he says again, brows furrowing as he looks up at Nico, heart aching like it’s being tugged at the seams. Nico exhales, more tears falling.

“I…”

It feels too quiet in his room. Like all the furniture has disappeared and each of their breaths is echoing off the plain, boring walls. Nico exhales shakily.

“I was supposed to— to go. I was gonna leave after graduation, and— and Hazel was gonna help me pack and send me money, and I was gonna get on a bus and just fucking go, because I—” He cuts off for a breath, blinking tears out of his eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to stay, I didn’t— I didn’t want to come here in the first place. It was just because of…” He gasps, his eyes glistening, and he looks fucking distraught, and Will just wants to stand and take him into his arms, but he can’t right now.

“I wanted to leave,” Nico continues. “To— To run away, back home, or off to fucking wherever, I don’t— I don’t know, I just—” He starts pacing again, pushing his hands into his curls and pulling too hard. “I was supposed to come here, go to school, pass my classes, graduate, and then go, I— I wasn’t supposed to— to meet you and—”

He stops short, covering his face as he huffs. Will watches, lip quivering for a moment before he steels himself.

“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you,” Nico says finally, looking at him like he’s trying to glare, but it isn’t working because he looks kind of pitiful, eyes filled with tears, cheeks flushed pink and shining with tear trackers, hair messy from his own hands. “And you weren’t supposed to show me all the things you love about the city, or— or introduce me to your friends, and I wasn’t supposed to like them, and I wasn’t supposed to be happy here, Will, I wasn’t supposed to change my mind.”

Silence falls, and Nico’s breath stutters in his chest until Will speaks, his voice soft and broken, almost just whispering.

“So stay.”

Nico looks away, blinks tears out of his eyes angrily.

“I can’t stay here, Will,” he says, his voice hard and firm as he gestures vaguely around himself. “I can’t— I can’t stay with my father, and I can’t go to fucking college, and none of this was supposed to happen, but I don’t wanna go, and I don’t know what to do, and—”

He breaks off with a quiet sob, squeezing his eyes shut, and Will blinks tears out of his eyes as he stands, approaching Nico slowly until he can touch him, hands gentle on his shoulders, sliding up to his neck and his jaw.

“Take a deep breath,” Will says softly as Nico’s hands find his waist, trembling as his fingers curl into the fabric. “‘S okay.”

He presses their foreheads together, nodding when Nico inhales slowly, holds his breath for a moment, and then exhales. They’re quiet for a little while, holding each other close, until Will speaks again, his voice steadier.

“We’ve got months until graduation,” he says quietly, almost whispering.

“I don’t know what to do,” Nico cries, almost whining the words, pulling Will closer.

“That’s okay,” Will whispers. “You don’t have to know, baby, it’s fine to not know—”

“No, it’s not,” Nico says, and Will just presses his lips to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut, brushing his fingertips over Nico’s cheeks and jaw as gently as he can, tender and soft. Nico lets out a shuddering breath, falling against Will a little bit.

They’re there for a while. Holding each other. Swaying when Nico finally relaxes a little bit. Breathing.

Nico is calm now, hugging Will’s waist, his face hidden in his neck as he breathes slowly, and Will feels like he’s been away from him for weeks even though he saw him yesterday. He tightens his arms around him, sliding a hand into his hair to cradle the back of his head.

“Can I…” Will hesitates, cheek pressed to the side of Nico’s head. His hair smells like his shampoo. “Can I say something that might be, like… kind of insane?”

Nico pulls away and wipes his cheek with the end of his sleeve, sniffling. His other hand stays on Will’s side, holding him close as he takes a deep breath and wipes his cheek once more.

“I feel like we walk that line,” he says quietly, almost smiling. He looks tired. Will tucks his hair back.

“I, uhm…” Will pauses, thinking for a moment, stomach flipping. “You don’t— You don’t wanna live with your dad,” he says finally, and Nico nods, looking at the ground. “And you don’t wanna go to college or anything.”

Nico shakes his head.

“I don’t think I want to,” he says. “Maybe someday, just… Not yet.”

Will nods, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks again.

“I…” He swallows, pausing. “The school I’m going to allows freshmen to live off campus,” he says finally, forcing it all out, baring his heart, his chest wide open. Nico blinks and looks into his eyes. “We can… We can get a place together,” he says quietly. “If you want.”

“...Really?” Nico breathes. His face has fallen like he doesn’t actually believe him, and Will nods.

“Yeah,” he says, glancing away, suddenly shy with his chest open like this. “My mom and I are already looking for places close to the campus, but, like, obviously most of the ones we’re seeing now will be taken by then, but we—we’re looking for, like, one bedroom places, and she— she said she can pay the rent for my first year and I can find a job and stuff, and I just… We can live together. If you want to.”

Nico blinks at him, tears caught in his eyelashes, and his lip quivers.

“Really?” he says again.

Will smiles softly, tilting his head at him before he leans in and kisses him gently. Nico lets him, eyes fluttering shut, hands sliding to Will’s chest. They stay close when they part again, noses still nudging together as they take quiet breaths.

“I love you,” Will whispers. “Like… A lot. A lot more than I think I should, given how long we’ve been…”

Nico scoffs lightly. Will smiles, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks.

“But I swear I fall harder for you every fucking day, and I…” He takes a stuttering breath, focusing on the feeling of Nico’s hands pressed to his chest, firm and soft and tender. “I would be really happy if you wanted to live with me.”

“I wanna,” Nico says quickly, the words almost bursting out of him. “I— I wanna live with you, I want you.”

Will exhales. He feels like he felt the first time he heard Nico say he loves him; like the floor is falling out from underneath him, like he’s floating through space. It feels so fucking wild that Nico reciprocates Will’s feelings, that he wants Will the same Will wants him. That his eyes shine like he’s looking at the stars when he looks at Will.

Will kisses him, tilting his head to kiss him as deeply as he can, slow and careful as he holds Nico’s face, as Nico pulls at his waist so they stumble together.

“I missed you,” Will whispers when they part for a breath, and Nico pulls harder, kissing him once before he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be, Ni, I know.”

Nico kisses him again, humming softly, hands pressing harder to Will’s chest like he’s trying to press into him, like he’s trying to reach his heart right through him. Will hugs him tightly, smiling against his mouth, lifting him a little bit, enough that Nico giggles quietly into his mouth, feet leaving the ground. When Will sets him back down, Nico hugs his neck, nibbling Will’s lower lip and stepping forward so Will stumbles backward, toward the bed. He falls against it, sitting on the edge, holding Nico’s hips and tilting his head back so their mouths don’t detach. Nico’s fingers are deft and gentle on the sides of his neck, touching him lightly, delicately.

It’s a few moments before Nico seems to realize that he can move closer, and he does, stepping close and climbing onto Will’s lap as Will leans back, arms wrapping around him as he settles on top of his legs. His knees bracket Will’s hips, and Will smiles against his mouth again, hands sliding over the knit of the sweater he’s wearing. His head is still titled back because Nico is hovering above him, and he knows if he stayed like this for long it would cause a crick, but he doesn’t think he would mind. It would be worth it.

Nico’s fingers push into Will’s hair, and Will hums weakly. He can feel Nico smiling into the kiss. He loves it when Nico does that.

Will pulls away with a light gasp, and Nico nudges their noses together.

“Tilt your head back,” Will murmurs, and Nico does with hesitation, eyes closed blissfully as Will noses across his cheek and jaw, leaving soft kisses in his path until he can mouth at his neck. Nico giggles, shoulders hunching, and Will beams, kissing over his throat, feeling it shift as Nico swallows.

“Can we do this every day if we live together?” Nico asks breathlessly. Will scoffs, his breath hitting Nico’s neck.

“We already do do this every day,” he says. “Can you imagine if we lived together?”

Nico giggles again, tugging at Will’s hair to guide him back down to his neck, and Will goes happily, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around Nico’s waist.

There’s a light bruise on the side of Nico’s neck when they’re laying down in his bed. It’s faint, small and red, and Will kisses it as Nico crawls in next to him, tossing a blanket over them both. Nico sighs heavily, wrapping an arm around Will’s middle and hugging him tightly.

“Can we get a cat someday?” Nico asks after a minute, his voice quiet.

“Yeah,” Will says. “Of course. We can get it one of those cool tree things and keep it in the living room.”

“And name it something stupid.”

“And then never call it by its actual name,” Will adds. “We’ll give it a dumb nickname.”

“Can we bring your posters and stuff?” Nico asks, lifting his head to set his chin on Will’s chest and looking at him. His eyes are dark and shining in the dim lighting of the lamp. His blinds are pulled down. He always seems to prefer the dark.

“Yeah,” Will says again. “And we can get some posters for you too. Slipknot and what have you.”

Nico scrunches his nose with a little smile, rolling his eyes.

“And we can take photos and stuff,” Will adds, nodding toward Nico’s dresser. “We’ll bring that one of you and Bianca.”

Nico’s expression softens, and his eyes somehow shine even more now, glistening like they’re filled with stars.

“Yeah?” he says smally.

“Yeah,” Will whispers.

Nico is quiet for a moment, just looking at Will, unblinking, thinking.

“I have a few more,” Nico says finally. “That I want, like, printed. I just didn’t get them done because I was… leaving. Didn’t really see a reason to print them out.”

“Can I see them?” Will asks.

Nico just shifts to lay against his chest, letting Will wrap and arm around him from behind as Nico fishes his phone out from his pocket. He opens his photos, scrolls through for a moment before he pauses and goes back to his albums. He opens a photo, looks at it for a moment.

“This was… two years ago.”

He holds the phone up so Will can see it over his shoulder. It’s a photo of Bianca standing on a beach, her hair curly and messy, blowing in her face in the wind. She looks like she’s trying to push it out of her face, her eyes squinting under a smile. There’s sand on her cheek, and her shoulders are a little pink from the sun.

“She was so beautiful,” Will says softly. Nico hums in agreement.

“We always used to make fun of each other for being ugly,” he says quietly. “Because we looked exactly the same.”

Will scoffs.

“Peak sibling behavior.”

“We used to make ‘your mom’ jokes to each other.”

“That is so on brand for you,” Will says with a light laugh, and Nico glances over his shoulder at him, smiling lightly.

He swipes to the next photo. It’s of their mom, and Will gazes at the phone screen for a moment. He can’t quite place what he’s feeling right now; his stomach feels fluttery, like he’s meeting Nico’s mom instead of looking at a photo of her, but his chest aches with sorrow. He won’t ever meet her the way he should. He should be meeting his boyfriend’s mom.

It looks like she’s outside a cafe, sitting at a table and looking down the sidewalk, her expression light like she’s anticipating something, like she’s waiting for someone. There’s a cup of coffee on the table next to her. It’s black. Nico drinks black coffee too. Her hair is curlier than Nico’s and Bianca’s, hanging down past her shoulders in long ringlets, and her eyes are the same dark brown as Nico’s. She has the same strong nose as him too, the angle of it standing out as the sun shines on her.

“Wow,” Will breathes. Nico hums again, wordless as he looks at the photo.

She looks like she would get along with Will’s mom. Even though Will hasn’t even heard her speak, hasn’t heard her voice or her jokes, hasn’t seen her eyes shine the way Nico’s do when he’s happy. He can tell she had a soft soul.

“She was… She was scolding Bianca for something,” Nico says quietly. “I don’t remember what. But she— Bianca was, like, giggling, and Mamma just… I don’t know. She looked beautiful.”

“You have her nose,” Will says without thinking, and Nico scoffs, looking over his shoulder at him. Will’s cheeks flush red, and he rolls his eyes at the look Nico is giving him. “She was beautiful.”

Nico looks back at his phone, and he’s smiling now, his expression softening.

“She was.”

He swipes through a few more too quickly for Will to see them before he stops on one. It’s of Bianca and their mom, sitting on a bench side by side; Bianca’s leg is tossed over her mom’s lap, and they look like they’re tousling, but they’re both grinning widely, eyes squinting shut as they laugh. They have the same smile lines. Bianca’s are a little shallower. Will’s heart aches with the thought that she never got the chance to smile enough to deepen them.

“I like this one,” Nico says quietly.

“Do you remember what they were laughing about?” Will asks.

“Bianca was just being obnoxious,” Nico says fondly. “She liked to, like, climb on top of Mamma like she was little again even though she was already taller than her.”

Will laughs lightly, looking at the picture again, and he realizes Bianca is trying to slide onto her mom’s lap, and her mom is pushing her away, cheeks red as she laughs. He tries to imagine the scene, the three of them in what looks like a public park, Nico stepping away to take a picture of them. Mamma trying to pose nicely. Bianca trying to climb onto her lap. Nico smiling.

Will leans his head down and presses a kiss to Nico’s shoulder.

Nico swipes to another photo. It’s the three of them, Nico in the middle using the front camera of his phone. His nose is scrunched as his mom and Bianca press kisses to his cheeks, squishing them, both of them smiling with their eyes shut. It’s such a sweet photo.

In it, Nico is wearing a black hoodie and smudged eyeliner. His hair is shorter than it is now, and Will wonders how long he’s been growing it out. Bianca is wearing a dark purple sweater, and her hair is pulled back into a ponytail that’s tied with a black scrunchie. Their mom looks like she’s wearing a red coat, but her hair is covering it, fanned out over her shoulder and stuck to the fabric.

“This was… a few months before,” Nico say softly.

Will brushes his thumb back and forth where his hand is resting on Nico’s belly, over the soft knit of his sweater.

“I really love that picture,” Will says quietly. Nico sighs, shifting closer.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Will hums, nosing at the back of his neck. “So sweet.”

He looks softer in the picture. His eyes are shining, and his cheeks are rosy, and he looks like he’s fighting off a smile.

Nico doesn’t say anything. He scrolls the another photo.

“This was…” He pauses. “Two days before.”

It’s Bianca and their mom. They’re on a dark blue sofa, curled into the corner of it. Bianca’s head is resting on her mom’s shoulder, leaning against her, her eyes closed like she’s asleep, and she’s wearing grey sweatpants and a grey hoodie with a dragonfly on the front. It looks like it was bleach painted onto the fabric, and Will wonders if Nico did it for her. If it was a birthday gift, or a random surprise, or if she specifically asked for it. If she particularly liked dragonflies. Their mom is reading a book, eyes looking down at the pages, but one of her hands is reaching across herself to hold Bianca’s hand. She’s wearing striped pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt.

It looks warm. The lighting is dim, like the overhead lights are off, the room lit up by the lamp next to the sofa.

Will tightens his arm around Nico when Nico exhales shakily.

“They would have liked you,” Nico says, his voice tight. “They— They really would have…”

“‘S okay,” Will whispers softly. Nico falls quiet, but after a moment he takes a choked breath, and Will squeezes his eyes shut, pulling him closer as he begins to shake. “It’s okay, baby, I got you.”

“It hurts,” Nico says weakly, and he drops the phone, hands moving to hold Will’s forearms tightly. “It hurts so bad, I— I miss them so much—”

“I know,” Will says, his voice tight as his eyes sting. “You can miss them, Ni, it’s okay. Let yourself miss them.”

Nico shifts to face him and presses close, burying his face in Will’s chest, his hands tucked between them as Will wraps his arms around him tightly, squeezing and pressing his face into Nico’s hair. Nico sobs quietly, body tight like every inch of his skin burns, like each of his muscles is sore. Will closes his eyes, pushing a hand into his hair and combing through it gently.

He waits.

Nico cries. And cries. But he stays close to Will, face hidden, sobs muffled, shaking.

Until he falls quiet, breathing softly, shifting to press his cheek to Will’s chest. And Will waits some more.

Nico falls asleep. Will kisses his forehead after his drifts off, touching his face to wipe his tears away gently. He’s so fucking beautiful.

Will is mostly asleep when Nico wakes up, too asleep to say anything as Nico slowly sits up and sighs. It’s dark in his room now, quiet except some passing cars outside. Nico’s hand touches Will’s head, threading into his hair and scratching his scalp lightly like he’s petting him, and Will exhales, nuzzling into the pillow he’s laying on. He doesn’t have the energy to tell him that it feels good, but Nico already knows.

Nico’s hand pulls away after a few moments and then it’s quiet. Will can see the light of Nico’s phone through his eyelids, but he doesn’t think anything of it until he hears Nico’s voice.

“Dad? Are you, uhm, free to talk right now?”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Will can hear Nico’s dad’s voice over the phone, muffled and quiet.

“Uhm, I just… I wanted to talk to you about something,” Nico says. His voice is a little rough from sleeping, from crying. “...No, not— I still don’t wanna go to college, I… I don’t think I’m going to change my mind.”

Quiet again.

“Okay. It’s, uhm…” He pauses and shifts down on the bed, probably leaning against the wall. “I’m not going to college, but my— my boyfriend is, and he— he’s staying in the state, and we were, uhm, talking about… about maybe living together.”

My boyfriend.

God, that sounds good.

Will finally moves, his hand slowly, sleepily sliding to find Nico’s lap, moving over his thigh to squeeze at it gently. Nico’s hand is warm as he slides it over Will’s, pushing a firm pressure against it before he moves to hold two of his fingers. Will brushes his thumb back and forth over the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” Nico says into the phone, squeezing. “Medicine. …His school allows freshmen to live off campus, and he’s already talked to his mom about— about finding an apartment close to campus.”

Will knows without looking that his eyes are squeezed shut as he listens to his father’s voice.

“...She said she can pay the rent, and I— No, I’d find a job, and I’d— I’d help my boyfriend out while he’s studying and everything.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then his voice is soft when he speaks again.

“...Will.”

Will squeezes his thigh gently, suppressing a smile as he feels Nico look at him.

“Yeah,” Nico says quietly, almost whispering. “He’s really good to me.”

Will squeezes again.

Nico is quiet for a while, his hand squeezing Will’s fingers, and Will can hear the sound of his father’s voice over the phone even though he can’t understand anything he’s saying. It’s a deep voice, almost regal-sounding, and a part of Will wonders if Nico hates it.

“Okay,” Nico says quietly. “...Yeah, we can… Okay.”

He’s quiet again. His hand leaves Will’s, but before Will can complain with a quiet grunt or something, Nico is touching his head, running his fingers through his hair and scratching his scalp and cradling the back of his head. Will sighs, relaxing even more, pressing his face into the side of Nico’s hip and sliding his hand so it slips between Nico’s thighs, squeezing his thigh gently.

“Okay,” Nico says again. “...Thanks, Dad.”

He sighs after a few moments, and then he shifts down the bed so Will can wrap his arm around his hips, pulling him closer. He keeps playing with his hair, but now his fingertips caress the side of his face, his jawline, the bridge of his nose. Will focusses on the feeling, smiling against Nico’s thigh. He doesn’t know if he wants to wake up right now or not. On one hand, he probably should, to ask Nico if he’s feeling okay, what his dad said about it all. If it really matters what his dad said. If a no would have stopped him. But on the other hand, he’s so comfortable here, face pressed to Nico’s lap, Nico’s fingers in his hair, the room dark and warm.

Will sighs heavily. Nico laughs quietly, scratching at his head again.

“I’ll tell you when you wake up,” he whispers. Will hums weakly, sleepily, and Nico touches his cheek, tracing his freckles. “Love you, amore.”

Will squeezes his hips, nuzzling into his lap.

The sun is coming up when he wakes up, arm around Nico’s waist, face buried in his hair. Nico is breathing quietly, warm under the blanket that he must have tossed over them after Will fell asleep. Will pulls him a little closer, smiling when Nico makes a soft, rough groaning noise.

“Morning,” Will whispers softly. Nico groans again. He moves his arm over Will’s under the blanket, sliding his hand down to Will’s and lacing their fingers.

“Hi,” he says after a moment. His legs straighten under the blanket, and his body tightens as he stretches, shaking before he relaxes. “How are you?” he asks quietly.

“‘M good,” Will says, nosing into his hair and kissing the back of his neck. “How are you?”

Nico just hums softly, sighing, squeezing Will’s hand.

“What did your dad say last night?” Will asks. His voice is rough from sleep. (He knows that Nico likes it when he sounds like this.) Nico hums again, pulling at Will’s hand to make him pull him closer.

“He, uhm… He’d like to meet you,” Nico says quietly. His voice is rough too. (Will is starting to love mornings.)

“That makes sense,” Will says in spite of the anxiety that knots in his stomach. He knows Nico doesn’t really get along with his dad, and he can’t imagine that he will either. Obviously he’ll try his best, he’ll try to be likeable, try to get to approve of him or whatever (though he doubts it really matters to Nico what his dad thinks of Will), but it’s still… scary.

“But he said yes for now,” Nico continues, and Will can hear his smile in his voice. “It’s cool if we move in together.”

Will blinks his eyes open, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“...Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Nico hums lightly. He shifts after a moment, turning under Will’s arm and rolling to face him. There’s a line across his pink cheek from a crease in the pillowcase, and his hair is falling in his face. He pushes it away as Will pushes his hand under his sweater, touching his waist. He’s warm. “He also said, uhm.”

“He said…” Will prompts gently, holding his waist, spreading his fingers to take up as much space as possible. Nico’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, and he exhales.

“Uhm. To tell your mom not to worry about the rent. He’ll take care it.”

Will looks at him, faltering, blinking.

“What?”

Nico suppresses a smile, eyes shining.

“He said he’d pay for our rent. Tell your mom not to worry about it.”

Will sits up , looking down at him as Nico rolls onto his back, smiling up at him. He reaches up and tucks Will’s hair behind his ear to move it out of his face.

“He said that?” Will says quietly. Nico nods.

“I think he’s, like… trying to make up for not really being there when I was a kid. And he knows he has more money than he knows what to do with, so…”

Will leans down and kisses him, morning breath be damned.

“We’re gonna live together,” he says when they part after a few moments, smiling as their lips brush, as Nico holds his face in his hands.

“We are,” Nico says softly, smiling.

“Would a no from your dad have stopped you?” Will asks curiously, lifting his head to look at him, propping himself up on his forearm. Nico scoffs, scrunching his nose.

“I was already planning on running away without telling him,” he says. “I would have just run away without telling him, but with you.”

“You would have run away with me?” Will asks almost smugly, smiling, and Nico rolls his eyes and tugs him into another kiss.

“I would have run away with you,” he whispers when they part.

Will hums and kisses him again, nudging their noses together. Nico’s eyelashes flutter against Will’s skin, and he thinks it feels like magic. He tilts his head to kiss him deeper, smiling when Nico makes a small noise in the back of his throat, and he shifts to hover above him, sliding his other hand to his waist.

“Every morning,” Nico mumbles between kisses, reaching up to wrap his arms around Will’s neck, spreading his legs for Will to settle between them. Will pushes his hand under Nico’s sweater again, squeezing his waist gently.

Will knows it’s optimistic, thinking every morning will be like this. He’ll have classes and lectures and labs to go to, Nico said something about getting a job, they’ll have rushed, messy mornings and late nights, and God, they might not even see each other some days. And they might bicker and argue and disagree about things, especially if they’re in a one-bedroom apartment, and Will knows it might stupid, moving in with his boyfriend of just a few months when he’s only eighteen, but—

“Thank you,” Nico whispers when Will tilts his head to kiss his cheek.

“For?”

“Taking care of me last night,” Nico murmurs. “When I was…”

“‘S okay,” Will murmurs.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

But Will fucking loves him. And he knows his mom does, and his mom’s cat does, and Will doesn’t really give a shit if it is stupid. Because they’ll also have quiet, slow mornings, and they can do this until the sun is high in the sky, and they can make dinner together, and they’ll get a cat and give it a stupid name, and Nico will give Will kisses when Will gets stressed about exams. They’ll have bad days. But Will can go to bed with Nico in his arms, with photos of Bianca and Mamma around the living room, with his and Nico’s toothbrushes side by side on the bathroom counter.

Will suppresses the urge to say I love you again, nibbling lightly on a spot under Nico’s ear, and Nico hums, his voice thin in his throat. One of his hands tightens in Will’s hair as the other slides down his back, tugging at the back of Will’s shirt so it drags up his back and Nico can touch the divot of his spine. Will trails kisses across his neck as Nico tilts his head back, lifting his chin toward the ceiling, back arching when Will’s lips tickle his throat. Will lifts his head after a moment, and Nico’s lips are already parted for him to kiss, his chin tilted up like he’s desperate for it. He nips at Will’s lower lip, tugging it and humming again when Will kisses him harder.

His legs tighten around Will’s hips, pulling him closer, and Will collapses against him, his forearms framing his head, fingers finding the ends of his hair that are splayed out on his pillow. Nico moans softly when Will tugs gently, and Will grins, catching Nico’s lip between his teeth. Nico laughs into his mouth, tongue flicking out to lick at Will’s lip as he reaches down to slide his hands under his shirt. Will sighs, tilting his head, and he wishes neither of them were wearing shirts, but he doesn’t want to pull away long enough to remove them.

He doesn’t have to make the decision, though, because after another moment, there’s a knock on Nico’s door, and they startle apart.

“Jesus,” Nico says sharply as Will falls to his side. The door opens and Hazel sticks her head in. She’s wearing a silky pink bonnet, and Will notices it matches the shirt she’s wearing when she steps in with a wide grin.

“You were making out.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Will says dryly, looking up at the ceiling as Nico says, “Nuh-uh.”

She giggles and jumps onto Nico’s bed between them. Will sighs dramatically, and she just pokes him in the side. It tickles, and he jumps, laughing as he pushes her hand away.

She lets him push her hand, rolling on top of Nico, who catches her with an eyeroll as she climbs on top of him.

“Hazel,” Nico says after a moment, shifting to sit up. She sits on his lap, looking at him. She seems so much more awake than Will feels.

“Yes, Nico?” she says daintily, trying to annoy him. Will snorts.

“I have to tell you something.”

“I already know you’re gay.”

He clicks his tongue and pokes her in the side with another eyeroll. She giggles.

“What is it?” she says.

“Uh…” Nico hesitates, glancing at Will, suppressing a smile. “I’m not… I’m not running away. Anymore. Plans changed.”

Hazel blinks. Her smile fades.

“You’re not going away?” she says, and her voice sounds so much smaller than it did a second ago.

“I— I am, just not… Not like we talked about, I’m…” He trails off, looking at Will, who sits up and suppresses a smile. He feels like he could cry.

Hazel’s eyes are wide as she follows Nico’s eyes to Will, and Will raises his eyebrows, shrugging his shoulders lightly. Her eyes widen more.

“Really?” she says, looking at Nico sharply.

“We didn’t even say anything—”

“No, wait,” she says, holding a hand up at him, shushing him, and he scoffs. She looks at Will excitedly. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he says, laughing lightly. “The school I’m going to allows freshmen to live off-campus so we—”

He’s interrupted by her excited squeal, and she attacks him with a hug, arms tight around his neck. He lets out a startled laugh and hugs her back, looking over her shoulder at Nico, who watches fondly, smiling, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs.

“Where?” Hazel asks after a moment, gripping Will’s shoulders like she’s interrogating him.

“Here,” he says gently. “In the city. Close.”

She squeals again, shaking him by the shoulders before she turns and throws herself at Nico, hugging him tightly.

“You’re staying?” she says, burying her face in his neck. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he says, hugging her back. Will watches, setting his elbow on his leg and resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Kind of.”

“Can I visit?” she asks excitedly, keeping her arms around Nico as she looks at Will. “I wanna see you guys.”

“Yeah,” Will says softly. “Of course. We can get a pull-out if you wanna have sleepovers.”

“Oh my god, I love you,” Hazel says, eyes wide, and Will laughs lightly.

“Love you too.”

Nico groans, hugging Hazel tightly, squeezing her around the waist, and he shifts onto his knees, manhandling her so he can lean against Will as she laughs loudly. Will catches him, his chest warm as Nico sighs heavily and rests against him, hugging Hazel to himself.

“Can I go with you when you go Ikea shopping?” Hazel asks, head tilted back to look at the ceiling like she’s watching clouds. She’s smiling absently, like she’s daydreaming.

“Only if you help us build,” Nico says, reaching for one of Will’s hands, lacing their fingers. Hazel gives a noncommittal hum.

Will laughs, closing his eyes and resting his head against Nico’s.

“I assume you’re getting a cat,” Hazel says. Nico hums affirmatively.

“You wanna help pick a name?” Will says, mumbling into Nico’s neck. “Only requirement is that it has to be stupid.”

“Microwave.”

“Absolutely not,” Nico says quickly as a laugh bursts out of Will.

“You didn’t even think about it—”

“I didn’t have to—”

“He said stupid—”

“Not that stupid—”

Will squeezes his eyes shut, laughing into Nico’s neck as he listens to them bicker back and forth.

In a few minutes Hazel will push her way out of Nico’s arms and drag Will out of bed with her to lead him to the kitchen, where they’ll make pancakes while Nico sits on the counter and steals kisses from Will every time he passes. Nico and Will will finish their homework together on Nico’s floor before they leave for the day, leftover pancakes in hand as they walk to Will’s, where Nico will scoop Lucita into his arms and mumble something in Italian to her.

And eventually Will will meet Nico’s dad, and Nico’s dad will meet Will, and he will never have seen it coming, his son falling in love with this ray of sunlight, but he’ll see the way his son’s eyes light up at the sound of Will’s voice, and he’ll see the way his anxiety seems to melt out of him when Will touches his hand or says his name, and he’ll approve without a second thought. (Not that his approval would have mattered.)

And after a while, Nico and Will will lay in Will’s bed together, scrolling through Ikea’s website and sleepily point out the furniture they like, giggling as they talk about putting it all together. Will says they’ll enlist Vincent and Dhalia to help. Nico will point at all the posters and tapestries around Will’s room he wants Will to bring, and Will will tell him he needs to go shopping for his own posters. It’s our room, Ni, he’ll tell him. You need your own things, too.

They’ll decide to bring his record player and his music. And they’ll decide to bring the stuffed rabbit. It will go on their bed, but in the future Nico will bring it everywhere in the apartment, carrying it mindlessly to the living room as he goes to watch a movie.

They will make lists and lists and lists. Kitchen supplies, bathroom supplies, cleaning supplies. Clothes, linens, towels. Headphones, weighted blanket. Photo frames. Sketchbooks, textbooks, notebooks. Where to get keys made, where to leave garbage, where to pick up mail, where to catch the bus. And in a few months, their muscles will be sore from lifting boxes, and there will be the sticky residue of packing tape on the tips of their fingers, and they will become accustomed to the smell of citrus-scented cleaning spray.

But right now, Will just enjoys the way his cheeks feel sore from smiling as he laughs at the way Hazel and Nico argue about a hypothetical cat name, and he enjoys the way Nico’s fingers squeeze his mindlessly and the way Nico leans into him to avoid Hazel’s swatting hand and the way Nico’s body shakes as he laughs. And the way Hazel scrunches her nose (the same way Nico does), and the way she pokes at Will to prompt him to agree with her. And the way Nico kisses his temple and noses at his cheek.

And he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop falling in love.