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“Death Breath! Hey! Wait up!”
Nico bolts. He makes it about ten feet away from his cabin door before Will and his stupid long legs catch up with him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and then immediately tripping over his own foot and sending them both sprawling.
“I hate you,” Nico groans, curling up on the grass.
It’s too early for any of this. He was just trying to get back at Cecil for covering everything he owned in aluminum foil last week — and then he was going to go right the hell back to bed.
He knew he should have fucking shadow travelled.
“Aw, c’mon. You love me.”
Nico pretends to gag. The only thing he gets is Will’s crossed arms and raised eyebrow, so he doubles down and really starts to retch. Whatever. It’s eight thirty in the morning. He fell asleep at five. Rational thinking is a distant, distant memory.
“Whenever you’re done.”
“I will be sick at the thought for the next eight weeks,” Nico informs him. For dramatic effect, he looks up at Will’s face — which he cant even see, since the sun’s in his eyes — and shudders.
“You know, you have a genuine, beautiful talent for the dramatic arts, the likes of which I have never seen. Are you sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”
I better not be, ‘cause then all the staring I do at your calves would be real weird, he thinks to himself, then considers whether he can convince Kayla to give him a lobotomy. He thinks she might like the opportunity.
“Piss off,” he says instead of that, artfully schooling his face into the aristocratic mask he’s perfected from his father, squaring his shoulders and looking at Will like he’s a pebble lodged in the flesh of his heel.
Will rolls his eyes. “Get up, Sharpay Evans. You’re gonna stain your shirt worse than you already have.”
Nico sniffs haughtily. “My shirt is perfectly fine, thank you very much. I order them in black for a reason.”
He notices a giant grass stain on the side when he stands. He ignores it. Will does not.
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the Goth King.”
“Ghost King.”
“Right, right. That helps your case.”
Nico shoves him, fighting back a grin. “Whatever, Solace. What are you bothering me for?”
“Oh, yeah!”
Nico is a deeply cheesy person. Down to the core of him, past all the sarcasm and prickliness and trauma, or whatever, he’s made of fucking mozzarella, because what business does he have comparing Will’s eyes to the morning winter sky? Huh? That’s embarrassing. It isn’t even original. If Nico caught anyone saying shit like that out loud in real life, he’s collapse into the shadows from embarrassment. He needs electroshock therapy.
“I was thinking —”
“Rare,” Nico quips, just to watch Will’s eyebrow twitch. It does. Nico smiles.
“I was thinking,” he repeats, mocking glare in Nico’s direction, “that you and me go to the city this afternoon.”
“You chased me across camp for that?”
“Oh, please, Zombie Face. I chased you maybe twenty yards.”
“I think all that time sniffing rubbing alcohol has deteriorated your brain.”
“I think I’m going to shove you in the lake.”
“Feel free to try. You will not wake up the next morning.”
“Nah.” Will shoots him a smug smile. Nico trips over air. “I can be as annoying as I want and you still won’t kill me. I have impunity.”
Nico rolls his eyes, refusing to dignify that with an answer. The less he acknowledges his own shame, the more likely it will go away on its own. Probably.
“Anyways. Guess what Cecil told me today.”
“His last will and testament?” Nico guesses, suddenly remembering his reason for being up this early.
“No, no, not that.” Will pauses. “Well, I mean, he did. I passed it on to Chiron. He has requested that when you maul him, you avoid his face, because he wants to be a sexy corpse and he can’t do that if you destroy his prettiest features.”
“Noted. Please inform him I will come for him within a window of the next fifteen hours.”
Theres a very particular face Will makes when he finds something genuinely funny. A smile a little more crooked than his regular one, teeth working at his bottom lip to hold it back, left dimple appearing in his cheek. It makes Nico want to do stupid things like press his thumb into said divot. He instead shoves his hands deeply into his pockets.
“I’ll let him know.” He clears his throat. “Anyways. You know what day it is today?”
Nico squints. “Tues…day? No, Wednesday.” He glances at Will. It’s been maybe….three days since their weekly sleepover? No, fuck, four. He thinks. “Thursday. Final answer.”
“Monday,” Will corrects, “and, gods, you need to sleep more. And a calendar. But no, that’s not my point.”
“Feel free to get to it.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Will finally explains. He tries for exasperated, but it doesn’t work — he’s clearly excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waving his hands. “And The Five Seasons is doing half off for couples, so you and I need to go!”
He waves his hands, as if tying off some grand reveal. His (blue blue blue blue) eyes are squeezed nearly shut by the force of his beam, which lessons slightly with every second Nico does not respond.
“William,” he says finally. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “William.”
Will pouts. “What?”
“Explain how this is relevant to me, William.”
“Aw, c’mon, Nico! Don’t be difficult!”
“William,” stresses Nico again. “We are not a couple. Did you hit your head again?”
“Well, duh, Neeks, it’s about the scam!” He flaps his hand in a way Nico assumes is meant to convey something. “We’re gonna — eat! Cheap! By pretending to be a couple!” Now both hands are flopping, paired with wide, imploring eyes. “Obviously!”
“Obviously,” Nico repeats, slowly. He instructs one half of his brain to keep its focus on not melting into a puddle of blushing embarrassed goo, and the other to exercise restraint and not strangle the boy in front of him. A headache begins to press behind his eyes. “Will, what the shit.”
“You of all people!” Will throws his hands up. “You love scamming people! You hate corporate holidays! You frequently throw pebbles at people who look, and I quote, too obnoxiously happy! You’re the best hater I know! You should be on board!”
He makes a compelling point. Not that Nico is going to make that easy for him.
“You seem very invested in this,” Nico points out. He manages to keep his voice tastefully judgmental, which he’s very proud of.
“Of course I am! I want cheap Five Seasons food, godsdammit!” He pauses, switching tactics. “Nico,” he says softly. He puts a gently hand on Nico’s forearm, making him freeze. He is suddenly very, very close, and wow, did his hair always frame his face in gentle waves? Has that always been a thing? “I really, really want to scam a restaurant with you.” He smiles, small and crooked and gods, Will doesn’t look dangerous very often, but holy Hades when he does — “Will you make my Valentines, and scam a restaurant with me?”
His fingers begin to trace little circles in the inside of Nico’s wrist.
“Yes,” he squeaks, voice cracking.
“Yes!” Will cheers, pulling his fist. “Yes, hell yes, Nico! We are going to scam the shit out of this restaurant! Half off for couples? How about half off for heathens! Free money, baby! Fuck yeah!”
He turns back towards Nico, smile still wide and radiant, blinking eyes pools of sparkling excitement. Nico’s knees go a little weak. “I’ll come get you at 2! Thank you, Neeks!”
He runs off back to his cabin, only tripping twice. Nico watches him go, feeling a little like he’s tripping, too, with all the swooping his stomach is doing.
“Dude,” he mumbles to himself, shaking his head. “Be normal. Christo.”
It takes him ten straight minutes to get back to his cabin, even though he’s standing at the porch.
———
The obsidian handle of the Hades’ cabin door rattles.
“Neeks!” calls a voice behind the door, “you ready to go?”
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Nico scrambles over to the mirror and stares at himself. He turns a little to the left. He scowls. “Shit!” Tugging the shirt off, he turns back to his closet, tossing the piece of clothing to join the rest of its brethren on the floor. “Shitfuck. Fuckshit. Shit.”
“Nico!”
“Coming!”
Tapping his foot rapidly, he looks harder, as if that will magically make the right shirt pop into existence, perfectly pressed, on a hanger. “Shit.”
“What could possibly be taking so long? You’ve had two hours!”
“I care about my appearance, Mr Flip Flops and Scrubs!”
“Bleh bleh! Hurry up!”
Nico bites his lip. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t, really. Five Seasons is not actually a fancy restaurant. He and Will just like to joke that it is, because it has tablecloths. They’ve gone there dozens of times before; they stop every time they’re in the city for supply runs or visits to Olympus or to harass their summer-only friends at school. There is literally no reason for Nico to be stressing about what stupid shirt he should wear. Gods know Will is wearing cargo shorts.
“Nico!”
“I’m coming!“
Scowling, he digs through the pile of discarded clothes until he finds the first shirt he’d put on — a dark green button up that was given to him, along with a bunch of other fancy clothes he never wears, by the Aphrodite cabin. He hastily shoves their buttons through their holes, cursing when he mixes them up and has to start over, and sprints over to the mirror to inspect himself.
The shirt looks good. It’s a little tight on the arms, which he suspects was on purpose, and the colour compliments his skin nicely. The buttons are a dark, shiny brown that match his eyes. They pair nice with his simple jeans and black vans, casual enough that he doesn’t look like he’s going to Prom, or anything stupid like that, but dressy enough that it looks like he put effort in. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to make the staticky strands sit right, but gives up pretty quickly. It’s okay if one thing is a little messy, right?
“Finally,” huffs Will as the door swings open. He glances Nico up and down, then grins. “You look great.”
Nico was right. He is indeed wearing cargo shorts, although to his credit they are his one pair without various Head Medic stains. His sweater, too, is a pretty blue, V-necked, long-sleeved, and a completely different style than his shorts. It clashes horribly. His shoes are, for some reason, bright solid pink. Nico suspects Hecate magic. His hair is braided in two French braids, his favourite way to wear it. Nico believes he is also wearing a touch of sparkly eyeshadow.
“You look dorky.”
Will grins wider. “Thank you! I wouldn’t let anyone help me choose something.”
“You should have.”
“I wanted it to be authentic, Nico. Also, got something for you.” From behind his back, he pulls out a handful of daisies, black dirt clinging to their roots, like he plucked them straight from the ground. Nico is inexplicably endeared by the image, and prays the smile on his face is less soft than he knows it is.
“You got me flowers?”
“Well, duh, Avril Lavigne. We gotta sell the scam.”
Nico brings them close to his face and inhales deeply. They smell fresh and earthy and sweet.
“That’s a stupid reason to bring someone flowers.”
“Give them back, then.”
“No. Fuck off. They’re mine.”
Will’s eyes twinkle. “Okay.” He holds out his arm. “Ready to go?”
The jump is close enough that Nico can convince him to shadow travel, and not just because he sadistically looks forward to the shade of green Will’s face will get after. As dangerous as he knows it can be, he misses it, sometimes. There’s something comforting about it, something soothing and familiar. Shadow travelling to the restaurant eases any lingering nerves.
“If you’re gonna throw up, do it somewhere I can’t hear you,” he says as they materialize in an alley.
Will’s cheeks puff out. “I’m gonna do it on your fuckin’ shoes.”
“I will leave your ass here, Solace, I swear to the gods.” Despite his grumbling, he rests a cool hand on the back of Will’s neck until he’s recovered. “Good?”
“Yeah.” He straightens, dusting off his sweater. “Let’s go.”
Nico follows him down the alley and onto the street, elbowing past the crowd of pedestrians until they approach the familiar glass doors. He rolls his eyes fondly every time Will apologizes to someone.
“You need to be meaner.”
Will sticks his tongue out and tries to trip him. Unfortunately, he only manages to throw himself off balance, nearly crashing to the floor of Nico hadn’t caught him.
“Good gods, Solace.”
“That was your fault!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The doors of the restaurant are absolutely plastered in cheesy red hearts and bows and cartoon kisses. And, as promised, a giant sign promising couples a fifty percent discount on their meals.
“My love,” says Will dramatically, holding out a hand, “shall we?”
Nico sighs, resting his hand delicately in Will’s. It sparks with electricity, like it always does. “I suppose.”
“Party pooper.”
“I’m not hearing oh, Nico, thank you so much for doing this incredibly stupid thing with me, you are my dearest friend and I owe you one. Or three, for some reason.”
Will’s mouth twitches. “Oh, Nico, thank you so much for —”
Nico shoves him, laughing. “Shut up.”
They’re seated pretty quickly, server smiling when they take notice of their clasped hands. Will orders chicken tenders, like he does every single time without fail, and water. Nico orders from the adult menu and absolutely does not make any kind of show about it.
“There is nothing babyish about chicken tendies.”
“Oh, of course not.”
“Is this about you having a credit card? That does not make you more adult than me. It makes you a nepo baby.”
“Mhm. Sure thing.”
“Nobody likes a nepo baby, Nico.”
“Look, I think your drink comes with a complimentary sippy cup.”
Teasing and joking with Will is so easy that Nico forgets the core of their mission. The pink garlands hanging from the ceiling fade into the background — he’s too busy crying with laughter when Will nearly chokes to death on a french fry, too busy flicking a forkful of food at his shoulder just to make him shriek, too busy kicking his shin under the table. He catches Nico’s foot between his the fourth time he tries it, keeping it trapped for the rest of the meal. Nico finds he doesn’t mind.
“And your bill,” says their server when they’re done, setting down a slip of paper. “Forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but do you two qualify for today’s discount?”
Will smirks widely. “We do,” he says, with no small amount of pleasure. He shoots Nico the least subtle wink of all time. Nico rolls his eyes, cheeks going a little pink.
“Great! You guys have a wonderful Valentine’s day.”
“You, too.”
The server hurries away, turning to their other tables. Will’s smile is wide and smug.
“I knew it would work.”
“Duh. Easiest scam in the world, Solace.”
He sticks his tongue out. “And thus the best payout. You’re welcome.”
“Blah, blah. Gimme the bill.”
“Um, no way, di Angelo. I’m paying.”
He opens his wallet before Nico can stop him, mouthing as he counts the bills.
“What? No! I’m paying.”
“Are not.”
“Am too!”
“Are not.” He sets down a couple twenties. Nico snatches them right back up. “You we’re just complaining about my credit card!”
“Exactly. Thus my need to continue to pretend you don’t have one, so we can continue our friendship.”
“Solace, I swear to the gods.”
“di Angelo, I swear to the gods.”
Nico stares him down. Will stares back. He doesn’t even try to hide his lazy grin, his laughing eyes.
“You’re not paying for this by yourself,” Nico says firmly. “You don’t have a job. My father invented being rich.”
“Sure, but I made you come with me.”
“Ugh!” Nico throws his hands up, imagining how satisfying it would be to wrap his hands around that long neck (followed by his teeth and his tongue and his —). “Why are you impossible? I would’ve gone with you no matter what, stupid!”
As soon as he says it he wants to stick his head in wet cement. For a brief second, something like surprise flits across Will’s face, before he schools it back into his teasing smirk.
“Well, obviously, Death Breath. I’m excellent company.”
“You’re literally the most annoying person I know.”
“And yet here you are, hanging out with me, of your own volition.”
“…I’m paying next time.”
Will grins. “Whatever you say.”
They walk around the city for a while before heading back to camp. Will says it’s because he needs the air, Nico knows it’s because he wants him to rest a little longer before trying to shadow travel again. He tries not to let himself get all melty inside.
(Nobody willingly hangs out around the city for the ‘air’. He’s a shit liar. Nico should be offended.)
It’s nearing curfew by the time they melt back out from behind Thalia’s tree, extra shadows of early evening making the trip easier.
“Those fries are going to make a reappearance,” Will grimaces.
“Not if you don’t want me to kick you in the face.”
“You’d never.”
He would indeed never. But he would rather pass away than admit it, so.
“C’mon, dot face. It’s getting late. You have a cabin to run.”
“Oh, Nico,” Will says in a breathy falsetto, “are you walkin’ me to my cabin? How chivalrous!”
“Nevermind.”
“No no no no no I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Nico allows himself to be tugged, weak to Will’s giggles. “Walk me to my cabin. C’mon.”
Sighing, as if he’s so put out, Nico does. Some point in between Thalia’s tree and the amphitheater, Will’s hand slides down from around his wrist to tangled in between his fingers. Coincidentally, his mouth goes dry.
As they approach the Apollo cabin, Will slows to a stop.
“Hey.” He squeezes their fingers together, smile soft in the dying light of dawn. “I had fun today. Thank you for coming with me.”
Nico swallows. One day, those words will be said in a different context, if everything goes well for Nico, and he’s not sure how the hell he’s going to handle it without bursting into flame. “Yeah, well. Anything to scam a restaurant.”
“Right.”
They walk the last few steps to the cabin, rickety porch steps creaking under their feet as they approach the open door. Will doesn’t let go.
“Hey, Nico.”
“…Yeah?”
Quick as a flash, Will leans in and presses the softest of kisses to his mouth. The noise Nico makes is practically punched out of his lungs, spine going rigid in surprise.
“You can pay for our next date, okay?”
He’s gone before Nico can respond, ducking into his cabin with a small smile and closing the door behind him. Nico stands there, like an idiot, for three solid minutes at the very least, distantly aware of the giggles coming through the open window.
His hand comes up, fingers brushing his bottom lip.
“The little fucker set me up.”
Valentine’s day scam. Please. The only scam today was the scam of Will’s sneaky asking.
Nico smiles.
“You’re a mess, Solace!” he shouts, knowing damn well Will is listening.
He’s right. “Goodnight, Nico!”
Shaking his head, Nico runs back to his cabin, entire body tingling and cheeks aching with his grin.