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Will was currently elbow-deep in blood due to having just pulled a barbed arrow out of Connor Stoll’s right arm after he made the unfortunate decision to walk in front of the archery range at the precise moment Will’s younger sister let one fly, but that was still somehow not his biggest problem.
“Ow,” Connor groaned, and normally, Will was a very empathetic person. Really. He promises. But he didn’t have a very high tolerance for demigods injuring themselves out of their own stupidity, or pure lack of a sense of self-preservation.
“Sorry,” he muttered, not feeling an ounce of the word in his heart as he plucked a fresh alcohol wipe from his tray. “I’ve given you too much nectar already. You don’t want to be bleeding out and burning to ashes.”
“Burning to ashes sounds fine right about now,” Connor said through gritted teeth, “if I don’t have to feel this anymore. Ow.”
When asked, upon his dramatic entrance into the infirmary—carried like a fireman by none other than Clarisse, who had been tasked that day with supervising archery practice despite her distaste for non-melee battle tactics—what, exactly, had happened, Connor alleged that he “needed to retrieve his arrows” (which had landed so far off his own target that they were closer to Kayla’s) and he “thought she would’ve seen him coming.”
“Well, our Apollo-kid prophecy powers aren’t exactly functional, at the moment,” Will had grumbled, helping Clarisse lower him onto an empty cot (with freshly washed sheets—hygiene aside, Will wished he hadn’t just done the laundry that morning). Clarisse had snickered, asked Will if he needed any more help, and promptly retuned to her post at the range.
So, yeah, he had just performed a gruesome arrow extraction on one of the most annoying members of Cabin 11, but Will’s mind was elsewhere. More specifically, on the scene he had glimpsed just minutes before out the infirmary window.
It was Nico, on his way to the arena after lunch (he’d shown up to lunch, a small miracle), and he bumped into Jason. Literally bumped into him—Jason sort of shoulder-chucked him in that bro-ish way, and it appeared Nico hadn’t seen it coming, but he quickly reacted and elbowed him in the ribs. Now, normally Will wouldn’t bat an eye at Nico’s penchant for violence. But today, he performed such violence with what appeared to be a previously unseen expression on his face. A coy sort of smile.
In the six weeks or so that had passed since the battle, Will was quite sure he had only gotten a smile out of Nico di Angelo twice. And not for lack of trying—he made sure to check up on him just about every day, even if that meant banging on his cabin door at half past noon when he hadn’t yet returned to the land of the living (no pun intended). In fact, that exact phrase was what beckoned the first smile out of him, a few weeks ago, when Will had welcomed him back to planet Earth after what, judging by Nico’s bedhead, appeared to be a long, much-needed slumber.
Will had almost hated to wake him, because a good night’s sleep was clearly in order for this patient. But so was a hearty breakfast.
“Was that—a Hades joke?” Nico had mumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
Will grinned, hands laced innocently behind his back. “Unintentionally. But this one is intentional—you look like you sleep like the dead.”
And suddenly, there it was—the hint of a wisp of an echo of a smile. No teeth, just the corner of his mouth quirked up a millimeter or two. But still—something.
The second time had been a few days after that, when the infirmary door burst open with a chorus of coos and awws. Will looked up from where he was washing his hands to see Coach Hedge holding baby Chuck, and a horde of four or five demigods entered with him, fawning over the baby. Though he entered a few seconds later, trailing behind was Nico. He appeared on high alert, glancing behind him out the door as if someone were following, and pulled it tightly shut.
Will cast Nico a quick wave, to which he received a cautious nod, and then walked over to Hedge. It was time for the baby’s two-week checkup.
“Alright, alright,” he said to the crowd. “You all have places to be. Give us some space.” In the cacophony of their groans, Will caught Nico’s eye—he was the first one back at the door. Will gestured with a finger pointed towards him and then towards the floor, hoping he understood the message.
Fortunately, it seemed to get through that dense head of his. Stepping around the others, Nico made his way over to where Will and Hedge stood.
“Thanks,” Will said. “I could use your help.”
Nico looked at him incredulously. “My help? With—” He pointed at the baby.
“Look, Chuckie,” Hedge said in what was possibly the highest octave in his vocal register. “It’s Uncle Nico! You remember him. He’s the one who gave you that little mouse skull to play with!” Hedge then glanced at Nico with a grimace. “We did have to toss that, actually. Mellie said it could be a choking hazard.”
“Oh,” Nico said. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Hedge said, already absorbed again in his child’s gaze. He poked his tiny nose. “Someday, when you’re old enough, you can have all the skeletons in the world.”
Will cleared his throat, unable to hide the amusement on his face. “Okay. So…vitals?”
To cover up for the fact that he had no real purpose in keeping him there as a “helper,” Will had Nico hold his tray while he picked up the various tools he needed—stethoscope, otoscope, the rest. Technically, Will didn’t really need to use those things. He could check vitals and just about everything else with just the touch of a person’s hand. He didn’t need the stethoscope to tell him that little Chuck’s heart was beating just fine. But he thought that learning to use mortal medical devices might come in handy someday—say, if he survived demigod adolescence, graduated from camp, and found himself in need of a real job. So, on occasion, he did use them.
Just for practice. Definitely not so he had a lame excuse to keep Nico in the infirmary for just a little while longer.
Anyhow, the baby was doing well, and that good news plastered a smile of pure relief not only across Hedge’s face, but also Nico’s, which caused a swell of warmth in Will’s heart, which he repressed, and decided not to think about any further.
…Until the next time he saw Nico smile, which was today. At Jason Grace.
That buff, blond bastard, was Will’s immediate thought. Wait, he then realized. We’re kind of all bastards, technically.
And then: Okay, why am I mad that Nico’s smiling at Jason?
But he didn’t really have to ask. He knew, deep down, what was going on.
And that was the root of Will’s current predicament. He had an awful, mushy crush on Nico di Angelo, and it wasn’t going away any time soon. In fact, he felt it was only getting worse by the day.
He felt it in the way he thought of Nico’s werewolf scratches with every wound he stitched up. He felt it in the way he stared across the dining pavilion at Table 13, wishing he could take the spot on the empty bench. He felt it in the way he watched old movies and TV shows with his siblings late at night and thought, man, I have to show Nico this one.
In short, he was down bad.
One major facet of this problem was that he didn’t know if Nico was straight or not. He hadn’t exactly been given many clues over the years, with him gone from camp for such prolonged periods. He hadn’t seen him go out with any girls, but he hadn’t seen him go out with a guy or anyone else, either.
But now, he was seeing him with Jason. Not—together, necessarily—but something about it gave off an air of flirtation. Will was sure of it. And yeah, Jason had Piper, but…people broke up, right? And Nico’s feelings didn’t have to be requited for them to be real.
Well. That settles it, then. Will picked up his suture supplies and began closing up Connor’s wound. His eyes were on Connor’s arm, of course, but his mind floated with all the possibilities of why Nico liked Jason.
He was tall—okay, but he only had an inch or two on Will. He was blond—Will was blond. He had blue eyes—Will had blue eyes. Well, maybe he has a type? an unhelpful part of his brain supplied.
Will shrugged it off. He was being ridiculous, comparing himself to one of the literal heroes of the prophecy. Jason was a fighter, and Will was…absolutely not. Jason had been a freaking praetor of the Roman legion. Jason was older, stronger, cooler…oh, and he also wore glasses. Huh.
The glasses were a new appearance when he returned to camp, and Nico had told Will he had gotten them from Asclepius himself—Will’s very own half-brother. Nico had seemed impressed by this fact. Hmm. Now that he thought about it, Will hadn’t seen or heard anything about this Nico-and-Jason friendship any time before the glasses showed up.
Maybe the glasses were the answer.
Done with his stitches, he took another quick scan of Connor’s vitals, discarded his bloody gloves, and walked over to the sink to wash his forearms.
“Hey, Connor,” he called through the empty infirmary. “Have you or Travis ever stolen anything from, like, an eyewear store?”
He could feel Connor’s eyebrows raised with his back turned.
“Like…you want some Ray-Bans?”
Will shook his head. “No, I was thinking more like…well, I’ve been seeing a lot of patients with bad eyesight, you know? But I don’t really have any way of getting glasses for them. And they break theirs. A lot.” Not a complete lie. Although the Hephaestus Cabin was decent at repairing broken frames and lenses, they weren’t exactly the most…attractive glasses when they returned from the forges.
“Huh,” Connor said, but he didn’t sound uninterested. “So you’re saying—you want me to steal eyeglasses for you? From a store?”
“I mean…” Will turned back around and shrugged. “If you’re offering?”
Connor’s face lit up with a grin. “Wow, Will. I never thought I’d live to see the day that you condone my hobby.”
Will frowned. “This doesn’t mean I condone it. It’s only for…medical purposes.”
“Sure, whatever. I can have them to you by tomorrow night.” He flexed his arm and winced, just a little. “Hey, am I free to go, now?”
“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Will said, waving a hand in his direction. “Hope you’re a leftie.”
Connor grimaced. “I’m not.”
Will hummed, but he smiled wickedly. “Well. Best of luck using your left tonight in the shower, then.”
“Ugh, yeah, that’ll be annoying.” It took him a beat to realize. “Wait, are you trying to say—”
“Out of my infirmary,” Will said, practically shooing him out the door. “And stay away from the archery range, ‘kay?”
***
Two days later, standing at his desk in the infirmary, Will had a heavy box in his hands.
He didn’t want to know how Connor had managed to get his hands on about…twenty expensive-looking pairs of prescription lenses without getting caught, but for once, he wasn’t going to complain. Maybe he could just take the one he liked best and get Cecil or another Hermes kid to discretely return them.
With a quick glance at his surroundings to confirm he was alone in the infirmary, he rifled through Connor’s findings to assess his options. He used a reflective metal tray as a mirror as he held various pairs up to his face. Rectangular black frames? No, too 2012 hipster. Circular wires? Too Harry Potter.
Then he pulled out a squarish pair that were gold around the edges. Not too round, not too sharp-looking. Casual, but not too casual. In fact, he thought they suited him pretty well—which wasn’t a common thought for Will when he stared at himself in the mirror. Usually, he was too preoccupied with finding a shirt without bloodstains in the morning to worry about fashion. The Aphrodite Cabin had begged to let them give him a “makeover” on several occasions.
Anyway, Will thought they looked good. At least from what he could see of them.
Because, okay, it was pretty blurry. Whoever these glasses were supposed to belong to had awful eyesight. This might…become an issue.
But, hey, what did he really need his vision for, anyways, outside the confines of the infirmary? And he was off-duty for the rest of today. So, no problem.
New accessory on his face, Will stepped out of the building—stumbled, a little—and into the sun.
…And straight into his friend Lou Ellen.
“Whoah,” she sputtered, raising both hands in front of her. “Dude. Watch where you’re going.” Then her eyes trailed upward. “Um. Will? There’s something on your face.”
“Oh, these?” he said, touching the rims. “Yeah, they’re new. Like ‘em?”
She blinked twice like he instead was wearing a winter hat and scarf in the 85-degree August air. “You…need glasses now?”
He hadn’t quite thought this far into his lie. He swallowed. “Uh, yeah. I’ve been, like, dropping stuff lately, you know? But, like, uh, far-away stuff. ‘Cause I’m nearsighted. So, I don’t need them when I’m reading a book, or working in the infirmary. But I’ll need them for, like, archery practice.” He forced a laugh. “Hey, maybe that’s why I’ve been so bad at archery this whole time!”
Lou Ellen still looked at him strangely. “Ooo-kay,” she said. “Well. Sure, Will. They look spiffy.”
He rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“This is still weird,” Lou continued. “It seems so out of nowhere. But…I guess I have seen you acting extra clumsy, lately. Like, at the bonfire the other night.”
The bonfire the other night was when Will had gotten so distracted staring across the amphitheater at Nico while he stood up to get a bag of marshmallows for his cabin that he tripped and slid down his ass for a few steps. Luckily, not directly into the flames.
But, hey, it had gotten Nico to get up, walk over, and ask if he was okay. So, maybe it was worth the embarrassment, just a little. And now, it was a perfect coverup.
“Yes!” he cried. “Exactly. I never realized until two days ago, when I used a bit of my healer magic on myself and felt that my eyesight was off.”
“Right,” she said with a nod. “Well, I was just coming over here to ask if you could come have a look at Tina.” One of Lou’s newest younger siblings—Tina had only arrived at camp a few days after the battle, and was having some trouble adjusting. “She’s sort of…throwing up everywhere.”
Will winced, but he sympathized. Finding out your missing parent was a Greek god at age ten was no joke. “Of course. Let’s go.”
***
Running his hands through his hair after thoroughly sanitizing the Hecate Cabin and getting Tina’s stomach settled, Will stepped outside and noticed Nico across the grassy area, sitting on the porch of the Hades Cabin and staring listlessly, twiddling a knife between his fingers.
With an inhale, Will waved to catch his attention and strolled over, aiming to look as casual as possible.
“Hey,” he greeted when he got close enough. He tried not to think too much about how Nico’s eyes were darting up and down his body. He hoped there wasn’t residual vomit on his shirt. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Arts and Crafts?”
Nico huffed. “They’re making friendship bracelets today. I don’t want to make fucking friendship bracelets.”
“You could make one for me.”
He rolled his eyes, but then his stare went back to Will’s face, looking puzzled. “You…got glasses?”
Will felt his face flushed; he hoped it wasn’t as visible as he worried it might be. “Yeah. You like them?”
“I—” Nico stopped. “I mean, sure, they’re okay.”
It wasn’t like Will was expecting him to swoon or start singing love songs or anything, but okay? And it wasn’t even an okay like he was trying to cover up what he really thought. It was a very ambivalent okay.
Maybe this had been the complete wrong idea.
But then Nico’s expression softened. “The gold is cool. It’s, like, your color.”
“Really?” Will asked, smiling. “You think?”
“Well, yeah, I mean. Gold is kind of Apollo’s thing, right? And it, uh, matches your hair.”
He kicked Nico’s knee lightly. “Aw, thanks.”
Nico scoffed. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.” He cleared his throat. “So, do you, like, see better now?”
“Yeah,” Will lied. “I see great. I can see…all those new freckles on your nose. Nico, have you been ignoring my reminders to wear sunscreen?”
“I’m Italian. I don’t need sunscreen.”
“It doesn’t matter if you’re Italian.” He emphasized the word with a pinch of his fingers together, which got a hint of a grin out of his friend. “You still need to protect your skin.”
“Yeah, whatever, Solace. You can just heal me, anyway. Why do I need protection on any part of my body?”
As soon as he said it, Nico’s face turned pink, and so did Will’s. This time, he knew there was no hiding it.
“Um,” Will said, after a few seconds of silence, “anyway—come on! Friendship bracelets will be fun. Come with me? Please?”
Nico stared at him for a moment, expression unreadable, before he hung his head and groaned at the ground. “Ugh, fine. Whatever. But I’m not making you a stupid bracelet.”
Will hummed. “We’ll see about that.”
***
He had thought arts and crafts was a safe option. But he hadn’t considered how difficult it is to differentiate strands of very thin, similarly colored strings and tie them in small, precise knots when everything was so blurry.
Sitting at a table with Nico, Austin, and Kayla, he worked with strings of various shades of gray, because Nico “didn’t wear color, Solace,” though he’d thrown in one strand of a dark green that he thought would suit him.
He’d started getting a headache from staring at his own, half-finished work, so he leaned back in his folding chair to stretch his arms and glance over at Nico’s.
“Ooo, purple and gold, I like it,” he said.
Nico muttered a brief thanks, hunched over his strings in stern concentration. After Kayla, a self-titled friendship bracelet expert, had demonstrated the basics, he seemed to get the hang of it pretty quickly. Most of the ADHD demigods tended to enjoy this activity, considering it gave them something active to do with their hands.
“Who’s it for?” Austin asked, not failing to cast Will a sly glance.
“Well, considering it’s the Roman colors,” Nico said, “I guess I’m giving it to Jason.”
Will accidentally rocked back a little too far in his chair, and it came back down onto all four of its legs with a clang. Nico looked over at him for a second, startled.
“Oops,” Will said. “Still clumsy, even with the glasses.”
“Okay, four-eyes,” Kayla muttered. His siblings seemed suspicious of his new eyewear, too.
And all for what? It didn’t seem to be having its intended effect.
With a sigh, Will picked up his strings again.
***
As the days passed, Will sort-of got more used to his new (lack of) vision. He only wore them when others were around, of course, heaving a sigh of relief when he was working in the infirmary stockroom or on his solo morning jog.
He wasn’t sure if it was correlation or causation, but he and Nico had started hanging out more often. Both of them tended to eat meals at odd times, so they often sat together at either the empty Apollo or Hades table for a late breakfast or early dinner, depending on Will’s shifts and how late Nico slept in.
It was nice. Really nice. It wasn’t just some passing crush, Will was realizing. He genuinely wanted to spend time with Nico, get to know him, every single day.
As hopeless as it may be.
He was ecstatic, at first, when Nico asked him if he wanted to hang out during their free afternoon period. So ecstatic that he agreed before Nico even stated what he wanted to do.
“So, um, I was thinking we could practice some combat techniques? Like, in the arena.”
“Oh, well, I was thinking we’d do it in the shower,” Will replied, and he got a double-take from a passing Hephaestus camper. He quickly looked back at Nico, who hadn’t laughed. “Uh, well, sure. Sounds good to me.”
It did not in fact sound good to him. Well, the hanging out with Nico, getting to watch him in his natural element sounded great. But Will was already bad enough with a sword, and now…
In the arena, Nico chewed on his bottom lip as his eyes darted over Will’s body. Now, normally he’d get nervous, wondering if he had accidentally worn his scrub shirt inside out again, but he could tell by his concentration that Nico was analyzing his fighting stance.
“Okay,” he said. “So, you need to, like—your right arm should be further back. And your back is too straight.” Nothing about me is too straight, Will thought. “And put your left foot forward a little more. Okay, not like that.”
At his utter incompetence, Nico walked over. The bronze practice sword felt heavy in Will’s hands, until suddenly Nico’s hands were clasped over his and adjusting their grip.
“There,” he said. “Better.” He took a few steps back. “Now, try that swing I showed you.”
Will tried. He really did. But, from what he could make out of Nico’s expression through the blur, he winced.
“Not…terrible,” he said. “Try again?”
“Sorry,” Will said. “I’m not really cut out for this.” He nodded towards the tip of the blade. “Pun intended.”
Nico huffed a sigh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But I have you to protect me, so that’s okay.”
Another exhale. “Well. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Oh, if only this boy knew the stranglehold he had on Will’s heart.
Just then, he heard footsteps from the entrance to the arena. He watched as Nico raised his free hand in a wave.
“Hey. Finally, a worthy opponent.”
Will whirled around to see Jason walking in. Of course.
“Hi, Nico. Hi, Will. Hey, nice specs.”
“Thanks,” Will mumbled. He looked back at Nico. “Well, I guess I can just watch you guys fight. Maybe I’ll learn better that way.”
Nico looked confused. “I mean—we can keep going, if you want. I had a lot more ideas I was going to teach you.”
Will waved a hand in front of his face. “No, no, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I—I probably need to stick to the basics, for now.” He glanced down at his wrist, but he wasn’t wearing a watch. “You know what? I should probably get over to the infirmary. I told Kayla and Austin I’d help them cut bandages this afternoon.”
“Oh,” Nico said, his voice strangely quiet. “Okay.”
Jason’s stare bounced between the two of them like they were playing a tennis match.
“Yeah,” Will said. “I—I should go.”
He turned, dropping his sword, and ran out of he arena. On his way out, he heard Jason say, “Well, that was weird.”
Barely having stepped out of their view, he felt the tears welling up behind his eyes. It was stupid—he’d survived two wars, for the gods’ sake, why was he so overcome with emotion over the smallest, most ridiculous little things?
He walked quickly across the green towards the infirmary, which he knew would be empty and quiet. As he moved, he took off his glasses and rubbed his forearm over his eyes. He was not going to cry.
“Will!”
Oh gods, please don’t tell him he was—
The sound of sneakers pounding on the grass rapidly approached.
“Will. What’s—are you—”
Will inhaled and turned around, still holding the glasses in one hand. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“Um,” Nico said, stopping suddenly in his tracks, just a few feet away. “No? I just—you ran out of there so fast, so I wanted to—” He frowned. “Are you crying?”
“No.” Will sniffed. “That’s ridiculous. Why would I be crying?”
“You’re crying,” Nico said. “Or, at least, you were going to.”
“I’m fine.” Will nodded in the direction of the arena. “Don’t you have a worthy opponent to fight?”
Nico blinked one, twice, and then his eyes widened. “You don’t mean—oh, gods. Did I—” He suddenly buried his face in his hands. “That was not nice of me to say, was it?”
It was so sincere that it melted Will’s heart.
“It’s fine, Nico, I—” he started to say, but Nico strode forward. He reached out, for a second, possibly in the direction of Will’s hands, but then his own arms fell and swung at his sides.
“I’m sorry, Will,” he said, a genuine remorse filling his dark eyes. “You were—trying really hard in there. I could tell. I didn’t mean to downplay all of your hard work. I know it’s not something you feel like you’re naturally good at.” He fiddled with the hilt of his sword, sheathed in his belt. “I can still keep teaching you, if you want. Or, like, another today. Or if you don’t want to, that’s fine; there’s probably somebody else who’d be better, anyway—”
“No,” Will cut in. “No one would be better.”
Nico’s eyebrows raised. “You really mean that?”
“In—” he stammered, fist clenching around those stupid glasses. “In more ways than one.” Now Nico just looked at him with a tilted head, like a confused German shepherd. Will sighed. “I wasn’t upset about you calling Jason better than me at sword fighting. Of course he’s better than me. It’s just that—well—I keep wondering how many other things you think he’s better at.”
Nico’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? You and Jason are, like, opposites. There’s nothing to even compare.”
Great. So much for his impeccable logic.
Nico continued, appearing deep in thought. “I mean, I guess you’re both blond? And you’re close to the same height, which means you could probably get to his level with swordplay, if you really trained. And you’re both pretty powerful demigods, considering he can fly and you can practically bring people back from the brink of death.”
“Flying’s way cooler,” Will muttered, but he wasn’t sure if Nico heard him.
“I guess you also both have, uh, glasses now, too. So, a disadvantage in combat in terms of your range of vision, maybe? But that doesn’t seem to be too much of an issue for Jason in fights—do you feel like you have any blind spots?”
A blind spot in terms of love, Will wanted to say.
He sighed, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “Listen, Nico. These?” He held up his frames. “They are…not mine.”
Nico wrinkled his nose for a moment—which was, admittedly, adorable. “Huh?”
“They’re stolen.”
“From?”
“…Unsure. It was a Cabin 11 operation.”
Nico blinked, looking even more confused by the second. “To steal…eyeglasses.”
“Yes. For me.”
“And you…need them?”
Will exhaled. “Nope.”
“So, you wanted them for what, exactly?”
“Ugh.” Will couldn’t help hanging his head and hiding his face behind his hands. “To…impress you?”
A painful three seconds of silence passed.
“Impress me? With what? Fake bad eyesight? Will, give me those.”
He felt the glasses get ripped from his hand. A moment later, peeking out between his fingers, he saw them, now on Nico’s face.
Of course he suited glasses. Gods. Will’s stomach felt like it got tossed in a NutriBullet.
“Holy fuck, Will. You couldn’t see a gods-damn thing, could you?”
Will winced. “Maybe a little bit?”
Nico took them off his face—a tragedy, honestly—and didn’t hand them back. He held them between just his index finger and thumb like they repulsed him. “And you thought this would impress me because…I’d be amazed at your ability to navigate the world without getting dizzy?”
Will sighed. “Not…exactly.”
Nico looked exasperated. “Then what is it?”
“It’s that I—well—you know, Jason has glasses, right?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” His tone was like one he’d use for a toddler.
“Well, I—” Will wrung his hands. “I was jealous, okay? Jason seems to get—a lot of your attention. And I thought, well, he has glasses, and I don’t, so maybe I need to make myself look more like Jason. But clearly that was a very, very stupid thought.”
Nico blinked. It looked, for a second, like the glasses were going to fall out of his grasp. “Jealous? Of—Jason?”
He said his friend’s name like it was the most absurd thing in the world. Will noticed him trembling, a little, and for a second he was afraid he was about to cry, until suddenly he was biting his lip to, quite clearly, hold back laughter.
Will groaned. “Please don’t laugh at me.”
“Too late.” Nico grinned and chuckled. “Seriously? Jealous? Of—my friend? Because I—” He brought up his hands to use air quotes. “—give him a lot of attention?”
“I mean.” Will started chewing the inside of his mouth. “It’s true.”
Nico took a few steps closer, slowly, like he was treading around some of the Hermes campers’ godforsaken landmines. “Um. What kind of—attention—do you mean, exactly?”
It was hard to maintain eye contact. “I think you know what I mean,” he mumbled.
“I really don’t, actually. You know me and social cues.”
He did. But, still. He didn’t want to have to say it.
He pleaded a silent prayer to all the gods who might listen to give him the strength, and he took a deep breath.
“I thought you might have a crush on him,” Will said. At Nico’s expressionless stare, he continued. “Like, you let him hug you, he makes you smile more than anyone else, you spend more time with him than the rest of us? And he’s tall, and blond, and all muscle-y, and…yeah.”
Nico took a moment to respond. And in that moment, Will wanted to keel over and die on the point of his Stygian iron sword.
“Wow,” he finally said. “I didn’t know I was that obvious.”
Gods, Will needed nothing more than a bath in the Lethe.
After he didn’t respond, the next time Nico spoke, he sounded a lot more nervous. “I’m kidding, Will. Seriously, you thought I had a crush on Jason? You couldn’t be further from the truth.” He paused, fidgeting with his skull ring and scowling at the ground. “I mean, I guess you could be further. I mean, I do—I like guys. I can’t believe I just admitted that to you.”
“You—do?” Will asked.
Nico blinked. “I thought you’d already figured that out. Judging by your…Jason idea.”
“Well, it was sort of just a—hopeful guess?”
His eyebrows raised again. “Hopeful?”
Will bit his tongue. “Yes?”
Nico stood in place, not fidgeting this time, just staring at a point in the distance, breathing slowly but fully, like he was forcing it. Will let him take his moment to process. Zeus knows he shouldn’t let any more word vomit spill out of his stupid mouth.
“Okay,” Nico finally said, almost panting, like he’d just sprinted up Half-Blood Hill. “So you…want me to like guys.”
Will cleared his throat. “One specific guy, really.”
He made a pained sound like he just swallowed something sour. “I’m getting to that, Solace.”
“Okay.”
“You want me to like…you?”
“…Uh-huh.”
Nico’s face finally flushed. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Send me straight to Tartarus, Will thought. We just Fault in Our Stars-ed.
“I…” Nico’s hand fumbled for the hilt of his sword, like he wasn’t sure if he should stab Will or himself. “You do? Really?”
“Really.”
He dropped his hands to his sides again. Phew. No stabbing, for now.
But he didn’t speak for a few seconds. His face grew a bit pale.
“Hey,” Will said, lowering his voice a bit. He suddenly became all too aware that they were standing in the middle of the green. There weren’t any campers in earshot, but he could still understand if Nico would rather take this somewhere more private. “Want to walk with me to the infirmary?”
He nodded quickly.
Their walk was silent. That is, until they reached the infirmary door, which was propped ajar—as it often was on sunny days—but that meant they weren’t going to be alone inside. Will heard voices not just of his siblings, but also of at least three or four other demigods. Laughing, giggling, shouting—
“Give me that one!” Definitely Kayla. “Come on, Miranda, it’s my turn with those.”
“Where’s there a mirror in here?” Sounded like Mitchell from the Aphrodite Cabin.
“Guys, help, these are stuck in my hair!” Little Tina from Hermes, who Will guessed wasn’t throwing up anymore.
“Oh, gods,” Will muttered. He motioned to Nico. “Stay right here, I’ve got to—”
Nico grabbed his wrist. “Will, wait.” Will turned to face him, pulse rising with every second that passed with Nico’s hand still holding him. “I—I don’t want to be afraid to say it anymore. I do. I like you.”
“You—really?” He felt his pulse rising to one hundred. One-twenty.
“Yeah,” Nico said. And he smiled, finally. A real, big smile. Better than the ones Will had seen him give to Jason. But that didn’t even matter. None of that mattered, anymore.
“So,” Will sighed, drawing out the vowel. “Uh. Cool.”
“Yeah.” His grin definitely took on a more mischievous tilt. “Cool.”
“Ugh. Don’t make fun of me.” Will gestured over his shoulder. “I—I’ve got to take care of this…situation.”
Regrettably, saying so made Nico drop his arm. “What’s going on in there?”
“Well…I may have acquired an entire box of eyeglasses with questionably legal means.”
Nico shook his head at him, laughing, and holy Hermes’ caduceus, was that a beautiful sound.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said, voice dripping with something like…affection.
Will smiled. “But you like me.”
“Don’t push my limits,” Nico said. He gave his shoulder a gentle shove. “Go, fix your mess. I’ll be out here waiting.”
“Okay,” Will said. Because that was just about everything he’d hoped for.