Archive of Our Own

He was going to do it.

He was really going to do it.

Nico stared at the pill bottle he’d stolen from a pharmacy in his hand, struggling to maintain his emotions. He's sitting at the foot of his bed, on the floor.

He would’ve done this sooner, back when the war with Gaia ended. He was going to make sure everybody who’d passed during the war got their respect and moved on to the afterlife, then shadow travel to some alley and just let himself bleed out.

He later found out bleeding out would take awhile, and it would hurt more than a normal wound due to the blood loss, so he switched to pills. Feel a little funny, take a nap, and never wake up.

Transporting the Athena Parthenos took a toll on him and he passed out for two days afterwards.

Nico decided to eat his last meal (or at least try to) and leave, but Will Solace came up to him and demanded he stay in the infirmary for a few days.

Will. 

Nico told himself to put space between them, to stop thinking about him or hanging out so much, but he didn’t listen and let himself indulge. Now, he was in love again, yet another unrequited desire to hammer down on him, to remind him that he’ll never get anything but hurt from love. 

Jason and Reyna kept telling him that Will liked him back, but it just wasn’t a risk he could take.

It was stupid. Thinking of their names now, with the bright pink pills in his hand, it just made the act harder.

Nico doesn’t want to think of how the others would react. He doesn’t know if they’ll care at all or if they’ll be crushed, and he doesn’t know which is worse.

Oh, who's kidding, he knows they’ll be upset. Sure, he’d never had good self esteem, but someone in your life dying hurts, whether you’re close or not. Whether it’s just a small off feeling in places they should be but aren’t, or sobbing uncontrollably, it’s true.

Nico knows from his time in the infirmary that Will blames himself for all the deaths, all the people he couldn’t save, but he doesn’t know if his death will be worse, the same, or something else.

Will would either blame himself for not noticing or blame himself for not getting there sooner or healing enough, but he needs to accept the fact Nico was doomed from his birth.

There were many ways to think of it, but it didn’t matter. Nico had a choice to make.

He could put them away and decide another day, he could do it now, or he could throw them away completely. It wouldn’t be the latter. 

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his thoughts, and dumped just about a quarter into his hand. 

Nico had googled about how this worked. He didn’t want to get the wrong thing and just paralyze himself or something, so he used the Big House’s computer.

Just do it. It’ll take all your hurt. No more nightmares, no more prophecies, no more flashbacks, nothing. You won’t worry about Tartarus’s spirit coming back for you. You won’t have to deal with unrequited love. You won’t have to shove food into your mouth and struggle to keep it down.

Just do it.

Nico takes another breath, and throws the handful into his mouth. He grabs the water bottle from beside him and drinks some of it, swallowing the pills. It’s not enough. He does it again.

It’s done. He just has to wait. 

Nico leans his head back against his bed frame. How long would it take? Should he just get under the covers and fall asleep? It was 8 o’clock, an hour before lights out. He’d gotten back from dinner maybe 30 minutes ago, but all he could focus on was Will’s absence from the Apollo table. He must’ve had a night shift. 

A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts. Shit.

If he doesn’t reply, whoever it is will be suspicious. Nico’s never asleep this early. He hides his letters and the half empty pill bottle, ignoring how weird he feels. Floaty.

He composes himself and opens the door.

“Neeks! I need to tell you about my day in the infirmary!” Speak of the devil. 

Will walks into the cabin without hesitation. They’ve hung out in the Hades cabin so often recently that he has no problem coming in anymore. Nico started changing in the bathroom after he barged in right after he finished changing. 

It was fine. Will would leave before anything happened. The man gets up with the sun, so he sleeps pretty early. He’d leave in like, 10 minutes. Hopefully.

Nico closes the door, sitting in front of Will who’s dangerously close to the side of the bed that has the pill bottle hidden under. Just act natural, Nico.

“Fuckin’ Connor thought it was a good idea to mess around during archery apparently, and got himself shot in the arm and Travis in the cheek. Thankfully, it just barely missed the important stuff…” 

Will kept talking, but Nico didn’t hear anything. In through one ear and out the other was an exact way to describe it. Nico’s memory turns to mush, forgetting information seconds after Will says it. He doesn’t even notice it.

It’s like he’s zoned out, stuck in his thoughts, but there aren't any thoughts in his head. He’s just there.

“-ico? Neeks, are you listening to me?” Will calls out, finally alerting Nico, just barely. 

“Yeah, sorry, continue,” He says, not even aware he’s speaking until Will’s reply.

“Are you alright? You’re very, like, zoned out, and your pupils are dilated. Are you- oh my gods, are you high?” Will’s worry turns into amusement, and he smiles a bit.

“What? No, no,” Nico denies, because he really isn’t. Feels like it, but he can’t even process that.

“Oh my gods, you are, holy shit. How’d you even… get weed…” Will trails off. He had just grabbed Nico’s hand and was now holding it. He stares at it for a few seconds before looking up, but not at Nico. His eyes searched around the room, mainly where they were sitting.

Nico didn’t say anything, blissfully unaware of the danger he was in, both due to the pills and how close Will was to connecting the dots.

Will’s eyes pause on something and he leans out, grabbing it. Whatever it was was under Nico’s bed, and made Will look terrified.

An empty pill bottle and a stack of letters. Nico could’ve sworn there was still some left over, but it’ll get the job done faster, so it didn’t matter.

Will turned the bottle over in his hands, displaying a label Nico doesn’t remember blacking out or covering, but it’s completely unreadable.

“Nico, what did you take? Look at me, what did you take?! Your vitals, oh my gods, tell me what you took!” Will started begging, grabbing Nico and trying to pull him up. Were those tears in his eyes?

“‘S fine Will, ‘m fine.” Nico brushes him off, not noticing how his words begin slurring. Will looks even more scared at that, still trying to drag Nico out the door.

“You can’t even understand what’s happening, oh gods,” Will mutters, panicking. It’s not even a big deal, Nico wants to say.

“Nico, get up and cooperate or I’ll pick you up myself, I don’t care if you hate me for it,” Will demands, voice watery. Nico wants to comply but his brain has turned even farther to mush, none of limbs or senses working properly anymore.

As Nico falls against Will and tries to brace himself, the last thing he hears before collapsing is Will shouting his name. 

—

Nico opens his eyes slightly, his vision blurry. All he can see is blobs of color moving around, and he can hear people talking, seeming to shout orders. There’s a hand on his cheek, thumb moving back and forth, but the voice connected to it is barely audible.

“… C’mon, Neeks …. awake…. for me… can’t lose you…”

Nico leans into the warmth slightly before things go dark again.

—

Nico slowly regains consciousness, blinking away sleep. His senses come back, as do his memories, and he’s filled with dread. Fuck. Will was going to be mad. What had even happened last night?

Thinking back, the way his brain practically shut off was kind of terrifying. He thinks his brain was shutting off things it didn’t seem necessary to save energy for whatever the pills had done to him, but he doesn’t know health like Will does. 

He keeps his eyes shut. Nico knows he can’t lay in bed and try to shut everything out, Will will know based on his vitals or just by touching his hand, but he just needs a second.

He can already hear what Will is going to say. Why didn’t he talk to him? Why didn’t he tell Will something was going on when the door opened? Did he take the pills for a high or to kill himself? That one should be obvious enough. 

He tries to think back again, but it’s all very distant. It’s like his brain took pictures of specific moments so he’d remember them, but they’re all he has. He remembers holding the bottle, and he remembers Will’s face, how it morphed from playfulness to horror so quickly. 

Nico can just barely recall his emotions going from exhaustion to just nothing. A blank slate, a head so devoid of thoughts that he couldn’t even hear blood in his ears. 

It’s such a distant memory, teetering just on the edge of his mind, that he knows by tomorrow it'll fall over into the pit of forgetfulness. He wants to push it over himself, it’s nothing fun to remember and he wants it out of his head.

He thinks he has a memory of Will thinking he was just high, but it could’ve been a thought, maybe Nico was thinking but just doesn’t remember it, it didn’t matter. Will thought he was high, but this was different. Nico’s smoked before, but that wasn’t it. He felt like the shell of a human, just sitting there, no use.

He thought he knew empty. He was wrong.

Nico needs to stop thinking about this before he drives himself into a panic attack. 

He opens his eyes, taking note of the sunlight in the window to his right. It was night when he took the pills, so it’s been a little less than a day at least.

He turns his head to the left and sees Will with his head resting on Nico’s arm, his face pointed to the door. His hair is disheveled, like he’s been messing with it constantly. 

Will turns his head to look at Nico, but doesn’t seem surprised that he’s awake. 

“I thought I’d let you take a moment before I said anything,” he whispers. Nico was right about Will knowing he was awake, whether it was vitakinesis or vitals. He nodded, not speaking. 

They’re silent for a moment, staring at each other. Nico knows he should say something, but he doesn’t know what. He hates how quiet Will is. Will’s always making some sort of sound, whether he’s talking, singing, humming, whatever, he isn’t ever quiet.

Even when it’s a medical emergency, Will’s calling out orders, singing a hymn, or muttering things under his breath he needs to remember. He is never silent.

Will’s face begins to shift, a tired defeat turning into fresh tears. He jumps up to hug Nico, something he’d clearly been wanting to do. Nico holds him close, letting him sob into his shirt.

“I know you aren’t a big fan of touch, but I can guarantee I hate watching you flatline and having to shock you back to life more than you hate physical contact,” Will cries, his voice raw and raspy. He holds on with desperate hands, hugging Nico tightly enough to make up for all the hugs he’s missed out on.

“I had my hand on your cheek, and for just a second you leaned into me and I was sure it was going to be fine, but it wasn't." Will whispers, still sobbing into Nico’s shoulder. “You had a seizure, and then your heart stopped, Neeks. You were dead for 6 seconds and they were the worst seconds of my life. I almost lost you because false hope made me sloppy.”

Nico holds him tighter, letting silent tears fall from his own eyes. “That wouldn’t have been your fault, Will. You were in a scary situation, and medical stuff is so easy to mess up, it’s a miracle how rarely you do. You can’t blame yourself-“

“No. This isn’t- I’m not the one that needs to be reassured, Neeks, and we both know that.” Will says, interrupting Nico. He pulls back from the hug and tries to look him in the eye, but Nico stares at his lap, fidgeting with his hands. 

“I know how much you hate opening up to people, but that doesn't mean I’ll just let you hurt in silence. I can’t lose you too,” Will’s voice breaks, clearly thinking of his fallen siblings. “You don’t have to come to me, you could go to Jason, or Reyna, or even Percy, I know they’d listen. I don’t care who or how, just please talk to somebody, anybody. I’m so scared for you, Nico.” 

Will doesn’t ask why he did it, which is somehow worse than if he had. They both know what Nico’s been through, even if Will doesn’t know all of it. Nico can’t bring himself to speak of Cupid or Akhyls’s words. 

“I can’t, Will. It’s not like I have a reason, it just feels so wrong. It’s like I’m going against everything I’ve ever known, and maybe that’s true, but I opened up to- to Bianca with no problem. I’d rather choke on my words in silence then allow you to see me in any state of vulnerability. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

Will takes one of Nico’s hands in his. He holds it, a thumb gliding back and forth soothingly. In the back of his mind, Nico can tell Will’s about to say something about brains that’ll make no sense, but he’s too busy trying to ignore that familiar feeling pushed to the front of his head, warning him to change the topic, to veer away from the danger.

“Nico, there isn’t anything wrong with you, ya hear me? The brain and nervous system enter a state of survival after back to back trauma. It breaks down trust, leading to feeling intense fear and shame, and has made vulnerability feel unsafe. 

“You’ve spent too long without any positive human interaction, your brain doesn’t trust it. Your foundational trust in others and sense of safety in the world is shattered. Your brain is trying to protect you. That’s not your fault.”

Nico’s quiet, taking in Will’s words. It makes sense, it truly does, however…

“But, I do feel safe with Jason, Reyna, you. I trust you guys, I don’t have any reason to think otherwise.” He sniffled, wiping tears with his free hand. Gods, just this alone was too much for Nico, how could he ever go in depth on his feelings with someone? 

“Opening up requires an amount of trust that doesn’t feel possible anymore. You’re going from everything around you being a danger to exposing the deepest parts of yourself, it’s bound to be difficult.” Will pauses.

“You’re doing really well right now, I can tell you wanna change the topic or bolt. You wanna try talking to me now? Only if you want to, it doesn’t have to be too deep if you don’t want it to be. It could just be something that’s been bugging you.” He suggests, still holding Nico’s hand in both of his.

“I don’t even know how or what I’d say,” He chuckles, despite how sad his words are. “I haven’t done anything of the sorts since the Casino.” Will nods, thinking. 

“I could ask you a question? We could continue based on your answer.”

Nico mulls it over in his head. It was a good idea, to do it while he was already being vulnerable. It would be much harder to actually go to someone in a time of need. 

The thing is, Nico was barely tolerating how open he was now, he didn’t think he could handle anything more. He still wanted to shadow travel away from the conversation, into the safety of his cabin, but it was getting easier to contain slowly.

Another day, he could do better. Hopefully.

“I… I don’t think I can today. A lot has happened recently. Sorry.” Nico whispers, leaning onto Will. He feels the need for touch more than he usually does, but doesn’t know why. The hug earlier felt natural, and when Will held his hand, it didn’t burn like normal. It did make him blush, though. 

Will wrapped his arm around Nico’s shoulders. “That’s okay, Neeks. I won’t ever make you do something you don’t want to. Well, other than eating healthy and coming to the infirmary instead of trying to walk off an injury.” 

“It is your job after all,” Nico chuckled, wiping away the last of his tears. He notices that Will’s quiet again, but before he can ask, Will speaks.

“You do know I don’t do that just because it’s my job, right? You’re my best friend Neeks, I’d care for you like this whether I was a son of Apollo, Ares, Hypnos, whatever. I really care for you, more than you could ever know.”

Nico doesn’t respond, just burrows further into Will’s grasp. He doesn't know how Will was able to hit his worries straight on, but it was reassuring. 

The silence was enough of a response, as Will just holds him close to his body before leaving for lunch awhile later. 

—

Nico sat up with a jolt, panting.

It’d been about 10 days since his attempt, and a week since he left the infirmary.

He’d just woken up from a nightmare, but not a normal one. They usually were about past events, more often than not the jar or Tartarus. This was something new.

Cupid had been there, but it wasn’t a flashback to being outed. He had talked to him in his dream, forcing cruel words and thoughts into Nico’s head. 

He wasn’t sure if Cupid had actually entered his dreams, or if his mind made it up, but it didn’t change the damage.

Cupid spoke of Nico’s trauma. He mentioned how much his life has been altered by his past, how much he’s changed. He posed a question: 

Who was Nico without his trauma?

It didn’t seem to make sense, but as Nico spiraled, puzzles fit into place. 

Nico acts how he does because of his hurt. He dresses how he does because of his hurt. His favorite food, favorite people, books, were chosen because of his hurt.

If Nico had never gone through so much, he’d be a completely different person. 

Will wants him to heal, but if he does, he won’t be the same. The people who enjoy his company might not anymore.

Percy had mentioned younger Nico being annoying, would he find healed Nico annoying as well?

Nico wasn’t his own person. He was a book, and every chapter wasn’t an accomplishment or milestone, it was yet another hurt that had settled deep into his bones.

He could feel himself hyperventilating, could feel tears begin to fall. Nico remembers his first day in the infirmary, when Will had wrapped his arms around Nico after their talk. 

He craved that warmth now, the one that could so easily distinguish his fear. He wants those familiar arms to hold him, to pull him close.

The idea was so inviting, yet so terrifying.

Nico got up out of bed, making his way to the bathroom. He’d been clean for maybe 2 weeks, but it wasn’t by choice. Will constantly checking in and his ability to sense injuries made cutting difficult.

It was fine. Will was asleep in the Apollo cabin, and Nico not wanting to be touched was normal, so vitakenesis won’t be a problem.

He closed the bathroom door and flicked on the light, ignoring how his eyes burned. He grabbed the blade stashed in a drawer and sat by a wall, knees pulled up halfway to his chest.

Nico rolled up his sleeve and held the blade to his wrist, sobs wracking through his body. The feeling of the cold blade against his skin quiets his cries just barely, anticipating. 

He let out a breath and swiped. The skin parted for a few seconds before blood began trickling in, white showing itself before red. Peace seeped into his brain for a few seconds before the memories came back. Another swipe, a few more seconds of bliss. Every time, that contentment lasted just a little longer. 

Again, again, again.

Eventually, blood painted Nico’s arm, some of it dripping onto the sweatpants he’d worn to bed. A dozen cuts laid across his skin.

Nico let out another breath, this time of relief. He grabbed a white hand towel and held it to his arm, slowing the bleeding. He stared at it, enjoying what little quiet he could get. 

All too soon, the weight on Nico’s chest came back. He lifted the now soaked towel, throwing it to the side.

Not enough.

He picks the blade back up, and goes back to mutilating his body. He knows he’s still panicking, breath quick and short, but just a little more and he’ll be better. He isn’t going very deep, it’s fine, just a little more.

Nico doesn’t know how he missed the front door opening, but by the time he notices, it’s too late.

“Wait-“ Nico tries despite his shaking voice when he hears Will call out behind the door, but it opens before the warning goes anywhere. Will’s already worried face softens, hurt spider webbing over his features like cracked glass.

“Oh, Neeks.” Will crouches down, making himself seem less intimidating. When Nico sees him, his eyes widen and he makes himself smaller, backing himself farther against the wall. 

Why the fuck is he here at 3 in the morning? 

“It’s okay, I just wanna help.” Will comforts, sitting down beside Nico and facing him. 

Nico shakes his head back and forth desperately. He wants to say something, but blood continues to run down his arm and the sting hasn’t stopped. He still can’t catch his breath, and panic overwhelms his senses. 

He doesn’t know where the blade went, until he feels more blood pool in his hand when he tightens his fist. He looks away from Will, eyes darting around the room.

“Nico. Look at me.” Will says, voice soft but firm. Reluctantly, he tears his eyes away from the door and back to Will. “Breathe, Neeks, you’re safe.”

Nico attempts to do as told, but he fails. He lifts his uninjured hand to his chest, clutching on. His hands are shaking, and all he can focus on is the feeling of blood trickling down his arm. 

He tries to force himself, holding his breath and breathing normally, but his chest aches and he’s out of breath all too quick.

“I can’t, Will, I can’t-“ Nico pants out, shaking his head again, fear injecting itself further into his veins. 

“Yes, you can, I know you can.” Will takes Nico’s hand off his chest and places it on his own. “You’re safe here, just breathe.” He takes deep breaths of his own, trying to guide Nico.

It takes a few moments, but at some point Nico’s breath slows back to normal. He’s still shaking, but less violently.

“There ya go. You here with me, Neeks?” Will asks softly. Nico nods, pausing for a second. Oh, fuck.

Will found him. He knows about the cuts now, knows about how wrong Nico is. Well, if Nico had any hope in the past for a relationship with Will, that’s gone. 

“Will, this is the first time, I swear.” Nico’s voice shakes, the desperation and fear lacing through the cracks. He looks up at Will, trying to show himself stable to further convince him. 

“I’m not crazy. I don’t do this normally, I just heard of it and thought I’d try, I’m not crazy, you gotta understand, please.” Nico begs, trying to salvage anything he can. 

“It’s okay, Neeks, I know you’re not crazy. I’m not upset or mad, it’s alright.” Will replies. Nico lets out a breath, carrying relief that has more weight than Atlas’s burden.

“I do need to care for those, though. Could I see your arm?” He continues. Nico hesitates, and Will notices.

“No judgment, I promise.” Silently, he extends his arm out in front of the blonde, who grabs the first aid kit from under the sink. 

“You aren’t crazy for this, Neeks. A lot of people do this, sadly. Some at camp do, I can’t tell you their names, of course. I can see the old scars, I know you’ve done this before, it’s okay.” Will continues, reassuring Nico. 

Nico stares at his arm as it’s cleaned. “You don’t have to lie to me, Will. This isn’t normal, it’s not the way normal people live. Nobody thinks pain and blood is a good way to cope, and especially not with the fucking scars it leaves behind. There’s already enough wrong about me, this is just a drop in the ocean.” 

Will finishes disinfecting the wounds, including the one on his hand. He props his knee up and sets Nico’s hand on it, palm up, keeping it there. He rolls up his left sleeve and turns it into view for Nico.

“I’m not lying, I swear on the River Styx. I used to myself, but the scars have faded almost entirely, so nobody notices when I wear short sleeves.”

It’s true. Just barely visible, lines just a few shades lighter than Will’s skin lay in rows too neat to be from a monster. Nico looks up at Will as he rolls his sleeve back up and begins bandaging.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; there is nothing wrong with you. 15% to 20% of teens have done this, just because not everyone does it doesn’t make it wrong.” Will looks up from his work for a second as he says it.

Will finishes the bandages and rolls the sleeve back down. He stands up and holds his hand out for Nico to grab, who does so and is pulled up. Will pulls him over to Nico’s bed and sits next to him by the headboard.

“Why’d you even come here in the first place?” Nico asked, pulling his knees up to his chest and wincing at his words. “Sorry, that was rude, I mean-“ 

“I know what you mean,” Will interrupts. “Apollo’s the god of prophecy, every time something bad’s going to happen we get this, like, gut feeling. I felt off all day, and then I woke up in the middle of the night with the feeling so much stronger, and you can see where this is going. It’s person specific, so I’m the only one who felt it.”

“So all the effort I did to hide this,” Nico gestures to his arm, “was ruined by an off feeling?”

“You didn’t have to go through all that effort, Neeks. You could’ve told me. I understand why you didn’t, though, and I’m not mad at you for it. I don’t think I could ever be genuinely mad at you. Even if self harm was unheard of, and I didn’t know it was even possible or how to help you, I still wouldn’t be mad.” Will says, trying to maintain eye contact, but Nico still refuses.

“I know.” Nico whispers. They sit in silence for a few moments, letting everything settle a little bit. After a minute or two, Will speaks.

“Did something happen, or was it everything?” He asks, grabbing Nico’s uninjured hand gently and holding it in both of his.

“Nightmare, but it was… different. Cupi- a god that pestered me in the past spoke to me, putting these words in my head.” The response comes, barely whispered into the air between them. “I know I need to talk about it, but it sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”

Will shakes his head. “If it scares you this badly, it is not stupid. Besides, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s a bit harsh, but I think the need outweighs the want.” Nico sighs, shaking his head. He doesn’t want to, he wants to curl into his covers and fall asleep, just to awake as a new person. He knows, though, that this will eat at him. He takes a deep breath.

“So much of me has changed because of my past. My favorite food, activities, whatever. Every time I wonder something about myself, the answer is always because of something that happened to me. Where do I end and my past begins? I stopped being me a long time ago, but I don’t even remember who that is anymore. 

“I don’t know who I am without my trauma.”

Will moves one of his hands, bringing it up to Nico’s cheek. He holds his face in his hand, thumb moving back and forth just barely. It’s strangely intimate, and Nico hopes the dark cabin conceals his blush.

“You’re still Nico di Angelo. You secretly love the color purple, you’re weirdly defensive over sharks eating people, and you love riddles. You think ketchup and scrambled eggs are gross together, you are strangely good at insulting people, and you genuinely get offended when someone breaks pasta.

“None of your past can change those things about you, Neeks. You are not what’s happened to you, you are what you choose to become. I know it sounds cheesy, but I’m not lying. Your value is not determined by how you’ve been hurt, it’s just another part of you. 

“You’ve lived on the streets, but that doesn’t matter when you get to cook something Italian. You know why? Because the streets aren’t a part of you like Italian food is, it’s just something that’s happened to you.

“The Fates may have stolen the heart from inside you, but that does not define you.” 

A couple sentences into Will’s speech, Nico had let a few tears fall, but halfway through it was silent sobs, and Will had wiped a few tears away with his thumb. Nico never expected how badly he needed to hear those words, to know that somebody saw him. 

And, oh gods, when Nico tried to find any dishonesty in Will’s eyes, all that could be found was admiration and sympathy. Not pity, not amusement, not disgust. Just truth. Nico fell further in love with every word, somehow. But, of course, he can’t let himself have anything, so he ruins it with his next action.

He could’ve hugged Will, could’ve said something equally poetic, even could’ve just nodded! But no, his brain decides to pull Will close, and meet him in the middle with a kiss.

When their lips touch, it’s paradise for a second. Every worry Nico could possibly have fades away into the background, and suddenly it doesn’t matter that all his family is either dead or godly, the scars and cuts that litter his arm don’t matter, nothing. Everything’s right as they kiss, untouchable to the outside world.

When the second of freedom ends, Nico’s filled with horror. He’s kissing Will Solace, who has been nothing but perfect, who is loved by everyone in camp, and is most definitely straight. Nico has known fear, but never in a form so deep and personal.

He pulls back and Will stares at him, eyes wide and unreadable.

“Oh my gods. I’m so sorry, holy fuck. I- I don’t know why I did that, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean-“ Nico’s rambling is interrupted when Will pulls him back and kisses him again. 

In his shock, Nico doesn’t press back at first. He doesn’t believe it could ever be true, that somebody like Will could like Nico. In what world would anybody, especially Will, like him in that way? 

But, not even the Gods themselves can fake honesty this well. 

Nico presses back, letting himself take in the moment. Will places a hand on Nico’s cheek, pulling him closer just barely and deepening the kiss. 

Nico can feel the dried blood that his past left behind chip away, and maybe one of Will’s abilities is healing kisses, because the warmth that spreads through Nico can’t be natural. 

Will pulls away, just barely, resting his forehead against Nico’s. They still breathe the same air, as if parting from one another will kill them.

“Nico di Angelo, you are the prettiest bouquet of dying flowers I have ever seen, and that’s one of the many reasons why I love you. I will do everything and more to make sure your petals bloom again. I know you think your trauma ruined you, but the stars are only visible because of the darkness that surrounds them, and even then, they still shine.

“I love you.”

And for the first time in years, Nico truly believes it. He can feel the care seeping out, and right then and there he vows that he will never try to leave Will again.

“I love you too.” 

The words come out breathy, tears steadily flowing down both of their cheeks. They don’t come from sadness, no, not anymore, instead from the sheer amount of feeling that their confessions gave. Happiness, relief, comfort, and more, filling up their souls until it becomes too much to hold, spilling out in their silent sobs and sniffles. 

Their lips meet like they’ve been meaning to their entire lives. No urgency, no edges.

Just warmth and the slow, reverent unfolding of something new.