Chapter Text
It was one of the first truly hot days of summer and though there was no discussion, the majority of Camp Half-Blood had decided to call off the day’s regular activities in favour of spending their time at the lake. Campers were scattered about. Some were swimming and diving off the dock using a complicated rating system developed by the Stolls. Others were lounging in the shallow water, avoiding the splashes of the more raucous campers darting around them in a water fight.
Will had joined a group kicking around a soccer ball on the bank, barefoot, shirtless, and sweating as they took turns showing off.
And Nico?
He claimed a spot at the edge of the chaos, tucked into the shade of the woods with a blanket, an assortment of snacks and drinks, and a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein that was so battered it barely qualified as a book rather than a loose assortment of papers and thread. When Will had invited him earlier, he had accepted with the intention of avoiding the sun in its entirety (every inch of skin aside from his hands and face were covered due to his infuriating predisposition for wicked sunburn, an affront to his Mediterranean genetics that bordered on a declaration of war) and reading peacefully with the camp chaos as background noise.
He’d been sitting here for hours and still had yet to finish even the first chapter.
Instead, his eyes kept leaving the page to watch Will in this rare moment of unrestrained freedom and happiness. His hair caught and refracted the sunlight like a prism, flashing bright white as he ran up and down the beach. His laughter, though not particularly loud against the backdrop of the shouts around him, drifted on the slight breeze and seemed to dance around Nico like music.
And the sweat dripping from his hairline, down his neck, and trailing down his back as he bickered with his friends was… distracting.
It was scenes like this that made Nico understand the agony of poets. He was entranced.
Every so often, Will would run back to Nico’s blanket to check in and grab a drink before returning to his game. And every time, Nico’s breath hitched and his heart performed a tap dance in his chest. The two of them had been seeing one another for a few months now and yet, whenever Will turned that genuine smile on Nico in full force, he seriously thought that he might spontaneously combust from its brilliance.
It would be an agreeable way to go, Nico decided.
Unfortunately, Will’s unwitting powers of distractions could, at times, be too great and when he returned to Nico’s spot in the shade, his brilliant smile quickly shifted to furrowed brows and a concerned frown.
“Are you alright?” He asked, taking a seat beside the Son of Hades. He reached a hand out to Nico’s face and brushed his hair from his eyes. “You’re clammy.”
If ever there was a less sexy word for one’s boyfriend to call them, Nico couldn’t think of it. Though, as he thought about it, he did feel warm. Actually, very warm. Uncomfortably, stickily, sweatily warm.
“Gross.”
Will chuckled. “Have you been drinking enough?”
Nico grimaced. He hated water. Will had drilled into him over and over and over again the importance of drinking water instead of his beloved sodas and black coffee, but Nico, more often than not, ignored him unless the Son of Apollo made him. If he was particularly drained from using his powers, he might deign to drink a sports drink, but that was only in times of desperation.
“Nico,” Will sighed. He pulled a chilled bottle of water from the cooler bag. “It’s too hot out. You’ll make yourself sick.”
Nico took the bottle, unscrewed it, and took a deep drink without breaking eye contact with Will. He was right. Nico knew he was right. But Nico also hated being told what to do.
But the pleased look on Will’s face as he drank wasn’t the worst thing in the world, so he drained the bottle before handing it back to him.
That may have been a mistake, he thought, as his stomach cramped and a wave of nausea rolled over him.
“Nico?” Will reached a hand out to steady him as he swayed a bit in his seat.
“I think I’m going to go back to my cabin,” Nico said, holding his stomach through a. Particularly painful cramp. “I don’t feel great.”
A look of understanding dawned on Will’s face.
“Oh no,” he said. “Here, let me help you.”
Will grabbed his towel and doused it with cool water before draping it across Nico’s shoulders against his flushed neck. He gathered their belongings, shoving everything into the garishly orange Camp Half-Blood tote he’d -ahem- acquired from the camp store via Connor Stoll in exchange for a covert hangover kit and no questions a few weeks ago. He slung the bag over his shoulder and arched a hand to Nico, helping him to his feet and off the blanket, deftly pulling it up and shaking it out. Nico slumped against a tree as the world spun around him.
He groaned.
“Shit,” Will muttered, casting him a worried look as he threw the blanket over his shoulder and wrapped an arm around Nico’s waist.
Nico closed his eyes and leaned heavily into the medic, wrapping his arm around Will’s sweat-soaked back. If he didn’t feel like he was going to vomit or pass out, touching Will like this would have sent his mind straight to the bedroom—but currently, the only words his mind could supply were along the lines of “Please don’t puke on Will, please don’t puke on Will, please don’t puke on Will.”
“Heat exhaustion’s a bitch, ain’t it?” Will said, pulling him gently along.
Nico kept his eyes squeezed shut as Will carefully guided him through the woods back to the Hades cabin, focusing entirely on keeping his breathing even and his stomach in check.
Gods help him.