Chapter Text
The day Nico met Will, it was bright outside. The kind of bright that had you squinting to see a foot in front of you, foreheads beading with sweat.
Nico had seen a stray cat, a thin little black one with scruffy fur and yellow eyes.
He’d beelined straight for it, oblivious to the yelling from behind him and the boy turning the corner at a similar speed. They collided hard enough to knock Nico off his feet, hands scraping against the pavement and tailbone lighting up with pain.
“Nico!” Bianca cried out, running after him.
Before she could reach him, a hand appeared through his teary eyes, freckled and tan.
He looked up, met with a bright toothy smile and shining blue eyes.
“Hi! Are you okay? I'm Will! What's your name?”
Nico took his hand, wiping his tears away with a sniff. “I’m Nico.”
“That’s real pretty!” Will told him. “You wanna play with me?”
Nico decided he liked the way Will talked, all elongated and silly. He liked the color of Will's hair, blonde and sandy, and the way he smiled.
He linked his fingers with Will’s. “Okay.”
Just then, he remembered Bianca and his mom, now crouching beside him.
“Are you hurt baby? Let me see your hands.”
Nico let her look at the scrapes, watching the concerned furrow of her brow.
“We should get these washed honey. Let's head back home, okay?”
Nico shook his head. “What about Will?”
His mom looked up and seemed to notice Will for the first time. “Oh. Well, I’m sure Will’s parents will want him home soon too.” She got that frown on her face again. “Where are your parents honey?”
Will tilted his head. “My mom’s at home.”
For some reason his mom didn’t look too happy about that. “Okay. Well, how about we walk you home. You remember where it is?”
“Of course!” Will said. He reached for Nico’s hand but seemed to remember the scrapes at the last second, instead twirling their pinkies together in a way that felt oddly familiar to him.
He chatted about things while they walked down the block, pointing out trees and their names, and the birds they saw flying past. Nico trudged along with him, happy and quiet as Bianca and his mom followed behind.
It felt like the shortest walk he’d ever taken, mesmerized by the look on Will's face, but in reality the sky had already darkened the slightest bit when they reached Will's house.
It was a different neighborhood than his own, a chain fence around the front yard. The weeds came up to his knees, pale green and sunburnt.
Will turned to face them, letting go of Nico's hand. “I’ll get something for Nico's hand! Just wait here for a second!”
Nico felt his mom’s hand on his shoulder. She was silent as they waited, watching Will push the front door open and disappear inside.
“Why wasn’t Will's mom with him?” Bianca asked.
Will appeared at the door again, some sort of little box in hand.
“I don't know honey.”
“Here, give me your hand,” Will told Nico, sitting down on the pavement. Nico followed dutifully.
He watched Will pull out a little brown bottle, one like he'd seen his mom use before.
“This’ll sting a little.”
It did sting, but Nico pushed through it, watching as he patted the scrapes down and then wrapped them gently, tucking the ends into themselves.
“You’re really good at that,” Nico whispered to him.
Will smiled. “Thanks! I do it by myself all the time!”
They both stood up, brushing off their shorts.
“Well, thank you Will, for patching up Nico. Are you going to be okay if we head home?” His mom asked.
Nico didn’t really understand why she asked that, but Will just agreed, tucking his box under his armpit. “Will I see you again?”
Nico looked at his mom hopefully.
“We’re often playing in that park, right next to where you guys bumped into each other," she told him. There was something in her tone, kind of like it got when she cried looking at those pictures of grandma.
“Okay!” Will said. “Bye Nico!”
“Bye,” Nico said, watching as Will disappeared again, closing the door behind him. He turned to his mom. “I really like Will.”
She smiled softly. “Me too baby.”
-
Nico saw Will in the park again only a couple days later. They were fast friends, and Will didn’t ask Nico to talk, or make fun of him for preferring to sit and play in the sand instead of going on the monkey bars.
Nico saw a lot of him after that. Will was in the park pretty much every time he went with Bianca and his mom, like he knew they would be there.
When 4th grade started, he found out because of his mom that Will was going to his school. He was in the same grade, and he also didn’t have many friends. Nico was overjoyed to be able to spend recess with him, and ride the bus together. Even if they didn’t share any lessons.
His mom still acted weird around Will, with that furrowed look on her face, all twisted up like she was trying to decide something.
Nico never got to ask what that look meant.
Bianca and his mom died in October that year. His dad said it was a car accident, dressed him up in a suit and brought him to the funeral. He didn’t talk much to Nico after that.
Will knew. Nico didn’t know who told him, but after the funeral, when Nico snuck out at night, still in his suit, tears streaked across his face, Will was waiting in the sand pit.
The next few years of his life were kind of jumbled.
Nico couldn’t recall the last time he had spoken a word, even in class. Teachers gave up on getting him to answer things and his dad just looked at him with those eyes, like he didn’t know how to feel.
Will was there. He was there at recess, and there in the park. He still talked, soft and kind, about everything. He didn’t seem to mind that Nico never responded.
-
The sandbox got smaller before Nico noticed anything else did.
Their knees knocked together more often than not. Will's voice had lost some of its high, silly lilt. It cracked sometimes when he laughed, which he pretended not to notice.
They didn’t fit in the sand pit the way they used to.
They were thirteen the first time someone called them weird.
Will was pointing out the clouds, pointing up at them with his blonde head tossed back, neck a long line against the sun.
“Those are stratus clouds. They usually appear under 6,500 feet and mean it’ll probably rain-”
“Do you ever shut up?” A kid from their science class cut in, annoyed.
Will went quiet. Not really embarrassed, just…smaller.
He shrugged like it didn’t matter.
But it did.
Nico could see it in the way Will’s shoulders curved inward.
Something hot and awful moved through Nico’s chest.
“Leave him alone,” he rasped out. It was weak, his voice unused and rough. It barely escaped his throat, rough and unpracticed, but the kid flinched anyway.
Will didn’t seem concerned with him. His eyes were on Nico, wide and bright beneath the sun.
Nico met his gaze, heart beating out of his chest.
Will smiled at him, almost shy. Nico hadn’t ever seen him smile that way before. His curls fell into his eyes, gold reflecting the sun beautifully.
“Thanks.”
Nico traced his finger through the sand between them, carving a shape he didn’t mean to finish.
“Always,” he whispered.
-
On the first day of high school, Nico was sitting on the bus, waiting as the bus pulled up to Will’s stop. Will didn’t have a phone, so he waited a little impatiently, chewing on his thumbnail as teenagers bustled on and into the seats around him.
His backpack was on the seat beside him, a lousy stand-in.
When he finally caught sight of blonde hair through the bus window, Nico's heart soared.
Will looked unfairly good in the new uniform. Navy slacks. White button-up. Sleeves already rolled to his elbows like he refused to be swallowed by it. His bag was slung over one shoulder and he was smiling as he pushed through the rows, shoving in beside Nico.
“Hi,” he breathed out.
“Hi,” Nico responded.
Alone, the idea of high school made Nico feel as if someone had wrapped a chain around his chest and yanked, twisting his lungs and heart and ribs all up inside.
With Will pressed into his side, already talking about some new documentary, the chain loosened.
With Will, it was survivable.
-
They had two classes together. English and World History. Nico had algebra, physics and maybe the worst creation, PE, alone. Will was in some sort of advanced section for math and science, because he was smart like that.
It shouldn’t bother him.
They'd had separate classes before.
But now, something about it sat wrong in Nico’s chest, a heavy feeling. Like it meant something different at fourteen.
They walked in together every morning, shoulders brushing, and split for the first two periods. Nico spent algebra staring at the clock more than the board. He listened for footsteps in the hallway between bells, as if he might hear Will’s voice through the walls.
They met for English before lunch.
That helped.
They ate beneath the same tree behind the school every day, away from the noise and the bodies and the too-loud laughter. It felt like theirs. Like a small, carved-out piece of safety.
World History passed quickly.
Then they split again.
Will didn't express any desire to hang out with someone else, and it curbed just a little bit of that anxiety Nico felt. Will was everything he’d known. He was his only friend, his only family. His dad was away most of the time these days, a maid dropping by to clean and cook. He left envelopes of money like it replaced his presence.
But Will…Will remained.
He’d been there when he’d lost everything. He’d stayed there when everyone gave up on him, when they thought he was hopeless.
Nico didn’t know what he’d do without him.
And he didn't want to find out.
-
After school, they always rode the bus together. Will often got off at Nico's stop. He stayed over a lot. They used to set up an air mattress, but lately they'd just been falling asleep in Nico's bed. It was big enough for the two of them, and Nico found comfort in hearing Will's soft breathing at night.
On the nights he didn’t stay over, he would only leave after dinner, when the sky was dark and they'd done their homework on his bedroom floor and eaten.
Will knew how to cook. Knew what vitamins Nico was probably deficient in. Knew how much water he’d had that day just by looking at him. He was always nudging him toward something better.
“Drink more.”
“Eat more.”
“Go to sleep earlier.”
Nico liked when he did that.
-
“I’m going somewhere tomorrow,” Will said casually. “So I can't come over.”
Nico kept his eyes on his math book.
“Okay.”
Will smiled at him.
Nico felt sick.
-
The next day, Nico sat alone on his bedroom floor. He wondered what Will was doing. Was he out with friends? Did he prefer them to him? Maybe they were more fun, it wasn't hard, not with the way Nico was.
He stared at his phone. It wasn’t like it would light up, so he wasn’t sure why.
He leaned back against his bed, staring at the ceiling. There were those little stick and glow stars, shaped in the constellations of Aquarius and Virgo. Will and him had stuck them there years ago, back when he was obsessed with stars.
The room felt empty without Will in it.
His stomach twisted.
What if it was a date?
The thought felt ridiculous.
But it didn’t go away.
He imagined someone stealing Will's attention away, seeing those beautiful smiles and hearing those heart melting laughs.
He thought of Will, sweet, kind, oh so wonderful Will who treated the world as if it deserved nothing but his kindness even as it didn’t reciprocate, alone with someone who noticed how he lit up the room. How he was too good for anyone.
He didn’t want to think about what he’d do if Will chose someone else.
-
There was a knock on the door at seven pm.
Nico answered it in his flannel pajama pants, hair pulled back in a little ponytail. Will had said he liked it like that.
Speak of the devil.
Nico eyed Will up and down. He was still wearing his school uniform and he was holding his bag close to his chest.
“Can I come in?” Will asked him. There was something nervous in his voice.
Nico let him in. Watched as he toed off his shoes and made for Nico's room, clearly antsy about something.
“Gimme your phone,” was the first thing Will said.
Nico handed it off with a raised eyebrow, sitting beside Will on the bed. “What happened to hello?”
“Hello,” Will said distractedly, using his shoulder to block what he was doing from Nico. He had the password to his phone because what would Nico be hiding anyway.
A second later he placed the phone back in Nico's hands, closed to the lock screen again.
“Do I get to know what's happening?” Nico asked.
Will turned around so his back was to Nico, fumbling with something in his backpack. “Shh. Patience.”
Nico rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the way Will's shoulders pulled taut against the fabric of his shirt.
A soft ding cut through the quiet.
Nico’s screen lit up.
The background photo was from the museum, Will laughing at something off camera.
There was a message.
Hi.
From a new contact.
Will ☀️❤️
It took a second.
Then,
“You got a phone?” Nico breathed.
Will turned around, smiling so wide his cheeks were pink. He held out his hand.
A scratched-up flip phone sat in his palm, screen glowing with their open conversation.
“Yeah,” he said, almost shy. “Just a flip phone. But it works.”
Nico took it carefully, their fingers brushing. It felt like static under his skin.
“How?” he asked quietly.
He knew about Will's mom. How if she wasn’t out somewhere, she was drunk on the couch or high with friends in the living room. She barely knew Will existed. Will ate breakfast and lunch at school and dinner at Nicos. He stole money from her wallet when he was younger for school and dug through donation bins to replace clothes with holes in them.
He once went seven weeks without soles on his shoes because he couldn't find replacements in his size before he gave in and let Nico buy him new ones with the money his dad left.
“Ive been weeding people’s yards and washing their cars,” Will said, still smiling. “On weekends and early mornings. I got enough to pay for a few months of service and I’m hoping I could maybe get a job soon so I can continue.”
He shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal.
“I figured…” His voice softened just a little. “Now you don’t have to wonder where I am.”
Nico's throat felt tight.
“I thought you were on a date.”
Will laughed softly.
“With who?”
Nico didn’t answer.
He stared at the little flip phone in his hands. Navy blue. Scratched at the corners. The contact list open.
“Sunshine”
That was it.
His only contact.
Something in Nico’s chest gave way.
“You’re stupid,” he muttered, but it came out shaky.
Will titled his head. “Why?”
“You worked for weeks.”
Will shrugged again. He always did that, like it was no big deal. Like scraped knuckles and early mornings and exhaustion were nothing.
“I didn’t want you to think stuff like that,” he said softly.
Nico stood up too fast. Awkward. He bumped into his desk and he felt Will's backpack fall to the floor.
He didn’t care.
He wrapped his arms around Will, half on top of him, their limbs too spindly to be graceful.
Will's arms were around him only a moment later.
Nico buried his face into his shoulder, hands fisting at the back of Will’s shirt in a way that would definitely leave wrinkles.
They’d hugged before.
Dozens of times.
After funerals.
After nightmares.
After bad days.
But this was something different.
Nico felt it in the way his chest pressed tight against Will’s. In the way his heart wouldn’t slow down. In the way he didn’t want to let go.
Will’s chin rested lightly against his head.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured.
Nico knew if he spoke, it would be obvious that he was crying, so he just buried his face deeper, breaths sharp and shoulders shaking.
-
Something shifted after that.
When Will slept over, they gravitated closer without meaning to. Will would lie behind him, long and warm, breath ghosting along the nape of Nico’s neck. His knees knocked against Nico’s shins because he’d grown that much taller over the years, broader, too. Solid where Nico was still narrow and sharp.
Nico told himself it was just comfortable.
They sat flush on the bus. Shoulder to shoulder. Thigh to thigh. Will’s hand would settle absentmindedly at Nico’s wrist, then slide to his shoulder, then, lately, to his waist when they walked.
That had become Nico’s favorite.
Will’s palm fit there like it belonged.
Nico couldn’t pinpoint when they stopped playing into the illusion of space.
Maybe it was the morning he woke up half sprawled over Will’s chest, his head tucked into the crook of his neck, one leg thrown over his hips.
He froze.
Will’s arm was wrapped tight around his waist.
He could feel the steady rise and fall of Will’s chest beneath him. Feel the warmth. The solidness. The faint scrape of curls against his cheek.
He tried to shift, embarrassed.
Will made a soft, annoyed sound and pulled him closer.
“C’mon, Neeks,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep. “Sleep a little more.”
His hand slid lower on Nico’s waist without thinking.
Nico went still.
Will’s fingers flexed slightly, like he’d realized exactly where they were.
But he didn’t move them.
Nico didn’t ask him to.
Instead, he pressed his face deeper into Will’s neck and let his eyes close again.
His heart was racing.
Will’s wasn’t slow either.
-
There were these moments, too. One time, when Nico was waiting for Will in the hallway, he’d noticed a girl talking to him at his locker, laughing loudly at whatever he’d said. Her hand was on his arm.
Nico frowned, an unpleasant feeling curling in his gut.
Will had noticed him immediately, brightening up and waving bye to the girl without looking back.
“Hey Neeks! How was class?”
Nico looked the other way, biting the inside of his cheek. “Fine.”
Will looked at him, curious. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Like I'd believe that,” Will remarked, knocking their shoulders together.
The hallway was empty now. Nico wanted to mention that they'd miss their bus if they stalled too long, but the feeling of being alone with Will was far more important.
“Did you not like that?”
Nico glanced up at him. He knew he was pouting, just a bit, but he could see Will's eyes soften, flickering down to his lips. “Like what?”
“That she was touching my arm.”
Silence.
Nico's jaw tightened.
Then softly,
“You know I don’t want her.”
“Then who do you want?” Nico asked. It was bold, forward.
Will's hand snuck around his waist, pulling him a little closer. His thumb settled on the dip of his hip, pressing into the bone there.
“You.”
Nico rolled his eyes. He tries to pretend he's not melting right then and there. “Come to the park with me?”
Will smiled brightly. “Always.”
-
They end up having to walk because they missed the bus. Nico didn’t mind. Will's pinky was intertwined with his. He’s pointing out the mistletoe in the trees.
“It’s actually a parasite,” he tells Nico. “It feeds off of the tree.”
Nico gives him an amused look. “Is that you rejecting tradition?”
“Oh no,” Will told him, seriously. “I’d never reject something that could get me a kiss from you.” He winked.
Nico scoffed and looked away so Will couldn’t see the red staining his cheeks.
It was nearly dark when they made it to the park, stars just beginning to shine. Nico climbed into the sandbox, dumping his backpack outside of it and squishing his legs up to make room.
Will followed him silently, legs tossed outside besides Nico because they were too long to fit.
“This is romantic,” he tells Nico.
“You’re a dork,” Nico responds.
Will seems to glow brighter in the night.
The park is quiet. The air colder than it had been that summer when they were nine. Their shoulders touch. Their knees bump.
Neither of them moves away.
Will’s hand finds Nico’s wrist first.
Then slides down.
Then back up to his waist.
Slow this time.
Nico feels every inch of it.
“You were jealous,” Will says softly.
“No.”
“You were.”
Nico looks up at him, dark eyes steady in the dim light.
“I don’t like when people touch you.”
There it is.
Will’s breath catches just slightly.
“Good,” he says.
Nico blinks. “Good?”
“Yeah.” Will’s thumb presses into his hip again. Firmer. “I don’t like when people look at you either.”
Silence.
The sandbox feels smaller than it used to.
When Nico breathes out it hits Will's chin.
“You know,” Will started, eyes trained upwards at the starry night. “The moment you fell on your ass, I think I decided you were mine.”
Nico smacked his arm, gently. “Can you take this seriously?”
Will looked down at him. His eyes twinkled. “I always have.”
Nico's throat goes dry.
Will’s not quite smiling anymore. He’s still got that soft look about him, but there's something serious there.
Like he's always known.
Like he's waiting for Nico to catch up.
“You’re serious?” Nico asks him. He fiddles with Will's sleeve.
“Yeah.”
The word settled between them.
Nico studies his face. The curls falling into his eyes, the freckles scattered across his nose, the mouth that’s curled into the softest smile Nico's seen.
“You’re annoying,” he mutters.
Will presses their foreheads together.
Nico's heart is threatening to beat out of his chest.
“You like it.”
Nico hums, tilts his head up. “Yeah. I do.”
When they kiss, it's soft, gentle and warm. Will’s lips are chapped a bit, his hand tight at his waist and his curls brushing against Nico's forehead.
They pull away for a moment, stare at each other and breathe heavily. Then, they lean in again.
Nico doesn’t know how long they spend trading kisses in that sandbox, closed-mouthed and soft, light as a feather. It's long enough that their legs go numb from being crammed in the same position and the night has completely taken over.
Eventually, they make their way to Nico's house. They shower, one at a time. Make dinner and put on a movie.
They fall asleep on the couch, fingers intertwined.