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It started with a slap.
Nico pulled his hand away from the back of his neck, glaring at the crumpled, iridescent little bug in his palm. It looked like a mosquito, if a mosquito had been dipped in pink glitter and smelled vaguely of cheap perfume.
Across the dining pavilion, Travis and Connor Stoll were practically vibrating with suppressed laughter before they bolted toward the woods.
"I am going to feed them to Mrs. O'Leary," Nico muttered, aggressively wiping his hand on his jeans.
Will, who had been mid-bite into a slice of pizza, paused. He blinked at Nico from across the table. "Did they just… throw a bug at you? Dude, that's weird even for them."
"Whatever. It’s fine. I’m fine," Nico grumbled, but as he said it, a weird, heavy flush started creeping up his neck. He blinked hard, suddenly feeling incredibly lightheaded. The edges of his vision went a little soft, and when he looked back at Will, his brain completely short-circuited.
Will was just sitting there in his stupid bright orange camp shirt, a smudge of tomato sauce on his chin, looking completely ridiculous.
And Nico had the overwhelming, sudden, utterly horrifying urge to hold his hand.
"Nico?" Will asked, setting his pizza down. His brow furrowed in that exact way that usually made Nico roll his eyes. "You're getting super red. Are you running a fever?"
Will reached out across the table, pressing the back of his hand to Nico’s forehead. Normally, Nico would have swatted him away and threatened to shadow-travel him into a dumpster.
Instead, Nico leaned into the touch. He actually sighed.
Will froze. His hand hovered against Nico's skin, his blue eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. "Uh."
"You're really warm," Nico mumbled, his voice dropping an octave. His own words hit his ears a second later, and his eyes snapped wide open in pure, unadulterated panic. He jerked back so fast he almost flipped his chair. "I—what. I didn't mean that. Shut up."
"I didn't say anything!" Will practically squeaked, his voice cracking. He looked frantically between his own hand and Nico’s face. "Dude, what is wrong with you? Did you hit your head in the arena?"
"No! I just—" Nico gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white. His heart was hammering against his ribs, and the absolute worst part was that the urge to grab Will by the shirt and drag him closer was getting stronger. "It was the bug—i think? I feel really weird. Gods, I'm going to actually murder them."
Will put the pieces together in record time, which sucked, because usually it took him at least five minutes to figure out a joke.
"Oh my gods," Will breathed out, clapping a hand over his mouth. He looked terrified, but also deeply amused. "They hit you with an Eros-moth. I heard Lou Ellen talking about them—they're supposed to make you, like, aggressively affectionate to whoever you were looking at when it bit you. For like. Three days."
Nico stared at him with a terrified expression. "Three days," he repeated, his voice flat.
"Yeah."
"Will."
"Yeah?"
"Can we go anywhere else? Because if I don't lean on you in the next five seconds, I think I feel like i might actually pass out, and I don't want anyone else to see me like this."
Will swallowed hard, slowly standing up and carefully helping Nico to his feet as if he were made of glass. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. Infirmary's empty right now anyway."
"I hate you," Nico grumbled, immediately burying his face into the crook of Will's neck as soon as they were out of sight of the pavilion. He smelled like sunscreen and sterile bandages. It was infuriatingly comforting.
Will let out a breathless, awkward laugh, wrapping an arm around Nico's waist to steady him. "Sure you do, Death Boy. Come on."
The walk to the infirmary was, without a doubt, the most agonizing three minutes of Nico di Angelo’s life.
And for a guy who had literally navigated the Pit, that was saying something.
The absolute, terrifying truth of the matter—the secret Nico had shoved so deep down inside himself that it was practically swimming in the Phlegethon—was that the Eros-moth wasn't actually creating any new feelings. It wasn't making him want things he didn't already want. It had just violently taken a sledgehammer to his impulse control.
He already wanted to hold Will's hand. He already spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at the stupid freckles dusting Will's nose, or listening to him ramble about medical supplies and Apollo cabin drama. The bug hadn't magically made Will attractive; it just made it physically impossible for Nico to ignore it.
"Step up," Will murmured, his arm tightening securely around Nico’s waist as they navigated the wooden stairs of the infirmary porch.
"I know how stairs work, Solace," Nico grumbled into Will’s collarbone. The retort lacked its usual venom, mostly because Nico was currently actively nuzzling Will’s shirt. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "Gods, make it stop. Hit me over the head with a pan or something. Put me in a coma."
"I am not bludgeoning you with a pan," Will said, though his voice was shaking with what was either repressed laughter or sheer, unadulterated panic. Probably both. He fumbled with his keys with his free hand, kicked the door open, and awkwardly shuffled them both inside. He even remembered to kick the door shut behind them and flip the deadbolt—a small mercy to protect whatever was left of Nico's dignity.
The infirmary was quiet, smelling of ambrosia, rubbing alcohol, and dried lavender. Will practically carried him over to the nearest cot, sitting Nico down on the edge of the mattress.
Nico instantly missed the contact. His hands actually twitched. Before his brain could catch up to filter the action, his fingers shot out, gripping the hem of Will's bright orange shirt to keep him from stepping back.
Will froze. He looked down at Nico’s pale knuckles gripping the fabric, then up at Nico’s face.
"I..." Nico swallowed hard, his throat dry. His internal monologue was screaming at him to let go, to scowl and be intimidating. But his body felt heavy and warm, buzzing with a desperate, pathetic need to just be near the son of Apollo. "Don't go."
Will’s breath hitched. He didn't pull away. Instead, he just shifted his weight, standing right in the V of Nico's knees. It was an insanely intimate position for two guys who usually communicated via sarcastic banter and eye rolls.
"I'm not going anywhere," Will said softly. He cleared his throat, trying to adopt his 'Doctor Will' persona, though it completely failed given that his voice cracked. "I, uh. I should probably check your vitals. Just to be safe. Make sure the... magic... isn't doing anything wonky to your heart rate."
"My heart rate is fine," Nico lied. It was currently beating frantically against his ribs.
"Right. Let me just..." Will reached out, his warm, slightly calloused fingers finding the inside of Nico's wrist. He pressed down to find the pulse.
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the room. Nico stared at Will’s chest, trying to remember how to breathe. He could feel the heat radiating off Will’s skin. He could see the way Will’s golden hair fell in messy waves, catching the afternoon light streaming through the infirmary windows.
"Dude," Will whispered after a few seconds, his eyes wide as he looked down at Nico. "Your heart is going, like, a million miles an hour."
"It's the stupid bugs fault," Nico deflected automatically, though his voice came out as a breathless rasp.
"Right. The bug," Will agreed quickly. He didn't let go of Nico's wrist. In fact, his thumb started tracing mindless, tiny circles against Nico's pulse point. It was such a small, casual gesture, but it sent a shockwave of electricity straight up Nico’s arm.
"You have really pretty eyes."
The words hung in the air.
Nico wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He wanted Hades to personally drag him down to the Underworld. He let out a strangled, mortified noise and dropped his forehead straight against Will’s stomach, hiding his burning face in the fabric of Will's shirt.
"Kill me," Nico muffled into the cotton. "Just kill me right now. I give you full medical permission to euthanize me."
Above him, Will was completely rigid. For a terrifying second, Nico thought Will was going to push him away, call him a freak, or tell him that the joke had gone too far.
Instead, a large, warm hand hesitantly settled onto the back of Nico’s head. Will’s fingers threaded cautiously into Nico’s messy black hair.
"I'm not going to euthanize you," Will said. His voice was incredibly soft, lacking any of his usual boisterous volume. Nico could feel the rumble of Will’s chest against his forehead as he spoke. "And... thanks. About my eyes, I mean."
Nico cautiously turned his head, resting his cheek against Will’s stomach so he could look up. Will was looking down at him with an expression Nico couldn't quite read—it was a mix of overwhelming fondness, embarrassment, and something else that made Nico's rapidly beating heart somehow speed up even more.
"You're not... freaked out?" Nico asked, hating how small his voice sounded.
Will let out a shaky sigh, his thumb still stroking Nico’s hair. It felt so good Nico wanted to cry. "I mean, it's definitely a lot. And I'm definitely going to string Travis and Connor up by their ankles over the canoe lake. But... no. I'm not freaked out, Nico."
Will smiled, a small, lopsided thing that made his freckles stand out. He shifted closer, entirely unbothered by the fact that the terrifying Son of Hades was currently clinging to his shirt like a koala.
"So," Will said, his tone shifting into something a little more teasing, a little more desperate to break the suffocating tension. "Three days, huh?"
Nico groaned, closing his eyes and leaning fully into Will's space. "I am going to owe you so much drachma to never speak of this again once it wears off."
"Oh, absolutely," Will laughed, the sound warm and vibrating against Nico. "I'm going to hold this over your head for the rest of your life. But for now... you want to just sit here? Until you feel like you aren't going to explode?"
Nico tightened his grip on Will's shirt. "Yeah," he muttered. "Just... stay."
"Alright," Will promised, not moving an inch. And as embarrassing as the whole situation was, Nico couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, being cursed by a glittery Eros-moth wasn't the absolute worst thing in the world.
The heavy, suffocating silence of the infirmary was just starting to feel vaguely nice instead of completely terrifying, when the deadbolt on the door suddenly glowed a bright, neon purple.
With a loud clack, the lock slid open by itself.
Lou Ellen burst through the door, her hands glowing with residual magic and her eyes frantic. She froze dead in her tracks, her boots skidding on the linoleum.
Nico didn't move. He literally couldn't. His brain was screaming at him to summon a skeleton, to shadow-travel to China, to do literally anything other than remain frozen with his arms wrapped tightly around Will Solace’s waist and his face pressed into his abdomen. But the stupid glitter-bug magic was pinning him in place like superglue. He just turned his head enough to glare at the daughter of Hecate with one dark, murderous eye.
Will, to his credit, threw his hands up in the air like he was being robbed. "Knock next time, Lou!"
"The door was locked!" Lou Ellen shot back, staring at them with a mixture of horror and poorly concealed delight. "Also, wow. Okay. The Stolls really got him good."
"If you don't leave this room in the next three seconds, I am going to feed your soul to Cerberus," Nico growled. It would have been terrifying if his voice hadn't cracked, and if he hadn't instinctively buried his face back into Will's shirt immediately after saying it.
"Yeah, yeah, empty threats from the lovesick koala," Lou Ellen said, though she did take a tentative step back toward the door. "Listen, I actually came with bad news. Like, really bad news."
Will dropped his hands, resting one tentatively back on Nico’s shoulder. Nico practically melted against it. "Define 'bad news.' Because my current situation involves the Son of Hades treating me like a security blanket, and if anyone else walks in here, he's going to actually murder them. And then I have to fill out the paperwork."
"Right. Well." Lou Ellen grimaced, shifting her weight. "So, I went and found the jar the Stolls stole from the Aphrodite cabin. And, uh... it wasn't a standard Eros-moth."
Nico stiffened. "What do you mean, not standard?"
"I mean, it was a mutated one. Drew Tanaka was apparently trying to breed them to be stronger so she could use them on some mortal boy band, I don't know, it's a whole thing," Lou Ellen babbled, waving her hands. "Point is, they fed it crushed-up heart-shaped marshmallows and concentrated love potion."
Will stared at her. "Lou, get to the point."
"The point is, the effects don't last for three days," she winced. "They last for a week. Minimum. Maybe up to ten days depending on his immune system."
Nico stopped breathing.
A week. Seven days. One hundred and sixty-eight hours.
He was going to have to spend a week fighting the urge to kiss Will Solace on his stupid, freckled face, or hold his hand, or follow him around like a lost duckling. He was going to die. He was literally going to die right here on the infirmary floor.
"A week?!" Will yelped, his voice reaching a pitch that definitely belonged in a dog-whistle commercial. "Lou, he can't stay glued to my torso for a week! I have shift rotations! I have to teach archery! I have to use the bathroom!"
"I don't know what to tell you!" Lou Ellen defended herself. "I'm just the messenger!"
"There has to be a cure," Nico said, his voice muffled against Will's stomach. He sounded entirely defeated. The fight had left him, replaced by a heavy, miserable wave of embarrassment. "Lou. Please. I will owe you a favor. Any favor. A blank check to the Underworld. Just get this out of my system."
Lou Ellen softened, looking at the two of them sympathetically. "My magic clashes with Aphrodite's stuff, Nico. If I try to reverse it, I might accidentally make it permanent, or make you fall in love with a chair. We need an expert."
Will sighed, a deep, rumbling sound that Nico found incredibly soothing. "Okay. Okay, don't panic. We just need to ask for help."
"Who?" Nico demanded, finally forcing himself to loosen his death-grip on Will's shirt, though he still couldn't bring himself to step back. "Chiron? He'll make it a whole learning lesson. Mr. D? He'll just laugh at me until I cry."
"No," Will said, his brow furrowing in determination. He looked down at Nico, and giving a small, reassuring squeeze to his shoulder. "We need the big guns for this. We need to talk to Piper."
Lou Ellen nodded vigorously. "Piper is definitely your best bet. She can probably charmspeak the magic out of your blood, or at least brew a counter-potion."
"Okay," Nico breathed out. He looked up at Will, his dark eyes wide and pleading. "So... we go to the Aphrodite cabin."
"Yep," Will said, though he didn't move. He looked at Nico's hands, which were now hovering hesitantly near Will's waist, visibly shaking with the effort of not grabbing him again.
Will looked nico in the eyes, his cheeks dusting with a little pink. Slowly, cautiously, he reached out and took Nico's hands
Nico gasped softly, his entire body relaxing the second their skin made contact. The horrible, buzzing anxiety in his chest completely dissolved, replaced by a warm, dizzying sense of relief.
The walk to the Aphrodite cabin was less of a romantic stroll and more of a hostage situation.
Will was marching through the woods with the grim determination of a combat medic, completely ignoring the fact that he was probably blushing like crazy. Nico was trailing half a step behind him, his fingers locked around Will’s wrist in a literal death grip.
Nico was currently operating on three things: the agonizing, burning need to be touching Will Solace, a mountain of repressed teenage panic, and sheer, unfiltered rage.
"I'm going to flay them," Nico hissed, glaring at a passing squirrel as if it were personally responsible for his misery. "I'm going to turn their femurs into wind chimes. I'm going to feed their souls to the furies and watch them cry."
"Nico, for the love of the gods, stop with the threatening," Will muttered, not slowing down. "And loosen your grip, you're cutting off my circulation."
"I literally can't," Nico snapped back, his voice tight. It was humiliatingly true. Every time he tried to pry his fingers away from Will's skin, a wave of nausea and physical pain hit him so hard his knees buckled.
"Right. Magic bug. Got it." Will ran his free hand through his hair, looking ridiculously stressed. "Look, we're almost there. Just—try not to explode before we find Piper."
Will kicked the door of Cabin Ten open with the heel of his boot. The heavy scent of patchouli and rosewater hit Nico like a physical wall, making him gag.
Piper was sitting on her bunk, polishing her dagger. She looked up, her kaleidoscopic eyes zeroing in on Will’s panicked face, and then drifting down to where Nico was practically hiding behind Will’s shoulder, clutching his wrist like a lifeline.
Piper didn’t smile. She just sighed, letting her head fall back against the wall. "Please tell me you two finally figured your shit out and this isn't a magical emergency. Because I am off the clock, Will."
"Magical emergency," Will said bluntly. He sounded exhausted. "Stolls. Eros-moth. But Lou Ellen said it was mutated. Drew's private stash."
Piper’s relaxed demeanor vanished instantly. She sat up, her dagger hitting the mattress. "Drew's stash? Are you kidding me? Those things are completely unstable."
"Yeah, well, tell that to his immune system," Will grumbled, gesturing vaguely to Nico. "He’s been attached to me for twenty minutes and every time he tries to let go, his heart rate spikes to like, a hundred and eighty."
Nico glared at Piper from behind Will. "Fix it, McLean. Before I drag the entire Hermes cabin to the Underworld."
Piper stood up, walking over to them with a clinical, evaluating look that reminded Nico a little too much of Annabeth. "Okay, let's test the resistance." She took a breath, and when she spoke, her voice layered with that impossible, heavy command.
"Nico, step away from him."
The charmspeak slammed into Nico’s brain. His muscles obeyed before he could think, his hand tearing away from Will's wrist as he stumbled backward.
Nico let out a massive gasp of relief. He stumbled back another step, running a hand through his messy hair. "Oh, thank the gods. Piper, you're a genius. I owe you my life. I will literally murder anyone you want
"Don't celebrate yet," Piper warned, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Just wait. The magic is fighting back."
She was right. The relief lasted exactly five seconds.
First came the itch. A localized, burning sensation right over Nico's heart. Then, the warmth rushed back in, hitting him with double the intensity of before. It was like a rubber band that had been pulled taut and suddenly snapped back. The need for contact didn't just return; it roared.
Nico swayed on his feet, his vision blurring. A distressed whine clawed its way up his throat. He pitched forward, and Will caught him instantly, catching Nico by the shoulders before he could hit the floor.
"Gotcha," Will said breathlessly, immediately wrapping his arms around Nico.
Nico clung to him desperately, breathing in the scent of sterile gauze and sunshine, a humiliating tear of sheer frustration escaping the corner of his eye.
"Well," Piper said softly, looking highly sympathetic now. "That answers that. Charmspeak is just going to make it angry. Drew designed those bugs to overcome magical resistance."
"So what do we do?" Will asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. He shifted his weight, adjusting his grip so he was holding Nico securely. He didn't even seem bothered by it anymore; his healer instincts had completely overridden his embarrassment. "We can't just leave him like this for seven days, Piper. It’s basically torturing him."
Piper walked over to a pristine white vanity on the other side of the room, pulling open a drawer and digging through a pile of crystal vials and rose-quartz compacts.
"There's no instant cure for a localized love-curse that’s been chemically enhanced," Piper said, pulling out a small, leather-bound notebook. She flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning the messy handwriting. "The magic has to burn itself out. But... you can speed up the process."
Nico turned his head just enough to glare at her with one eye. "How?"
Piper snapped the book shut and gave them both a very pointed, evaluating look. "The bug triggers an overwhelming need for affection, right? Right now, Nico is fighting it tooth and nail, which is why it's causing him so much physical distress. The magic is feeding on the friction of his denial."
"Okay, and?" Will prompted, looking completely lost.
"And," Piper sighed, walking back over and tapping the notebook against her chin. "The fastest way to get it out of his system is to stop fighting it. You have to feed the magic what it wants until it gets full and dies off."
Silence descended on the cabin, thick and heavy.
Nico’s brain flatlined. "You want me to... what."
"You have to indulge the curse," Piper explained, gesturing vaguely between the two of them. "Hold hands. Cuddle. Give him compliments. Whatever the bug is telling him to do, you just have to lean into it. If he completely surrenders to the affection, the curse will burn through its energy reserves in a day or two, tops. If he keeps repressing it, you're stuck for the full ten days."
Will stared at Piper, his jaw hanging slightly slack. "You're saying the medical treatment for this curse is...aggressive cuddling?"
"Basically, yes," Piper said, fighting a small smile. She looked directly at Nico. "Stop fighting it, Nico. Stop feeling embarrassed by it. The more you let yourself have what the curse is making you want, the faster it goes away."
Nico squeezed his eyes shut, The universe was out to get him. He was a child of the Underworld, a creature of shadows and darkness, and his prescribed medical treatment was cuddling.
"Two days," Will murmured, looking back down at Nico. "We can do two days."
Nico let out a shuddering breath, the fight draining out of him all at once. He was so tired. The magic was constantly screaming in his ears, and the only quiet place was right here, anchored to Will.
"Fine," Nico spat out, his voice raw. He dropped his forehead back against Will’s chest, deliberately relaxing his shoulders, letting the shadows in the room dissipate. "But we go to Cabin Thirteen. My territory. If anyone from Apollo cabin sees me like this, I am making you dig their graves."
Will let out a breathy, tension-filled laugh. "Deal. Cabin Thirteen. Just... let me send an Iris Message to Kayla so she can cover my shifts."
"Do it fast," Nico mumbled, his eyes slipping shut as the agonizing pressure in his chest finally began to recede, replaced by a warm, terrifyingly comfortable haze. "Because if you walk away from me right now, I think I'll actually lose my mind."
Will’s hand came up, hesitantly resting on the back of Nico’s neck, his thumb finding the pulse point beneath his jaw.
"I'm not going anywhere, Nico," Will promised quietly. "I've got you."
Piper didn’t even make them move. She just grabbed a spray bottle of perfume from the nearest vanity and angled a compact mirror to catch the sunlight streaming through the window, creating a shimmering, chemical-smelling rainbow right over their heads.
Will fumbled in his pocket with his free hand, fishing out a golden drachma. He tossed it into the mist. "Oh goddess, accept my offering. Show me Kayla Knowles at the infirmary."
The mist shimmered, revealing Kayla leaning over a clipboard, a smudge of nectar on her cheek. "Cabin Seven, triage desk—oh, hey Will. Where are you? You were supposed to relieve Austin ten minutes ago."
Nico immediately went rigid. He pressed his face so hard against Will’s shoulder blade he was probably going to leave a bruise, violently throwing a small patch of shadows over his own head so he just looked like a dark, blurry lump attached to Will’s side.
"Hey, Kayla," Will said, his voice impressively steady, though his neck was bright red. "Listen, I’m not gonna make my shift. Actually, I’m not gonna make any shifts for the next... two days."
Kayla lowered her clipboard, her eyes narrowing. She leaned closer to the Iris Message, squinting at the dark mass clinging to Will's torso. "Are you in the Aphrodite cabin? Will, what is that? Did you get attacked by a shadow-monster?"
"It’s a... quarantine situation," Will lied smoothly, wrapping his arm a little tighter around Nico’s shoulders to keep him steady. "Magical biohazard. Highly contagious. I’ve been exposed, so I have to isolate until the incubation period passes."
"A biohazard." Kayla stared at him flatly. "In Cabin Ten."
"Yep. Piper is neutralizing the area now," Will said, not missing a beat. "I’m moving to a secure location to ride it out. Have Austin take my afternoon rotation, and tell him not to mix the powdered unicorn horn with the aloe. Thanks, bye!"
Will swiped his hand through the mist before Kayla could ask another question.
Nico let out a harsh, trembling exhale, the shadows dissolving around him. "You are a terrible liar."
"I am a great liar, thank you," Will muttered, looking down at him. "Come on. Secure location. Let's move before my sister decides to launch a rescue mission."
Sneaking from the Aphrodite cabin to Cabin Thirteen was a nightmare. The sun was high, meaning camp was crawling with people. Nico had to keep his eyes squeezed shut half the time, letting Will physically guide him by the waist, because every time he looked at Will’s face, the parasite in his chest spiked, demanding he do something completely unhinged like kiss Will right on the mouth.
"Almost there," Will murmured, ducking them behind the Demeter cabin’s sprawling tomato gardens. "Just across the green."
Nico’s breathing was shallow. The physical toll of the hex was exhausting. His joints ached, his skin felt feverish, and the only thing keeping him upright was the firm grip Will had on his hip. By the time the solid, obsidian walls of the Hades cabin loomed into view, Nico felt like he’d just run a marathon in full Greek armor.
Will pushed the heavy door open, hauling them both inside and slamming it shut. The deadbolt slid home with a heavy, final thud.
The inside of Cabin Thirteen was exactly what you’d expect from the Underworld’s premier real estate: dark, brooding, and aggressively air-conditioned.
Will locked the heavy obsidian door behind them, tossing his keys onto a side table. He let out a long breath, rolling his shoulders. "Okay. We're safe. No one is coming in here unless they want to get cursed by a zombie."
Nico stood in the center of the room, tense and waiting for the inevitable backlash. He carefully took a step away from Will. Then another.
Nothing happened.
The white-hot, panic-inducing agony that had hit him in the Aphrodite cabin was gone. Instead, there was just a dull, persistent tug right behind his ribs—As long as he stayed within the same general airspace as Will, the parasite in him seemed satisfied.
Nico took a third step, pushing the distance to about ten feet. The tug sharpened into a distinct ache, a polite but firm warning from the magic.
"Ten feet," Nico muttered, rubbing his chest. "I think the limit is ten feet?"
Will looked over, his posture visibly relaxing. "Ten feet? Really? Thank the gods. I mean, you're great, Nico, but I was fully preparing myself to try and use the bathroom while you clung to my ankle."
Nico cringed, the reality of the situation crashing down on him now that the physical pain was gone. The embarrassment, however, was still very much present. He sat down heavily on his impeccably made bed, dropping his face into his hands.
"I am so sorry, Will," Nico groaned into his palms. "This is completely ridiculous. You have actual healer duties, and instead you're stuck in the zero-sun cabin babysitting me because a glittery moth ruined my life."
Will crossed the room, stopping about three feet away, safely inside the magic's comfort zone. He sat down cross-legged on the dark rug, looking up at Nico.
"Nico, look at me," Will said softly. When Nico reluctantly peeked through his fingers, Will gave him a small, genuine smile. "I don't mind. Seriously. Kayla's got the infirmary covered, and honestly? I was looking for an excuse to hang out with you anyway. Even if the circumstances are... highly irregular."
Nico felt his face heat up again. He wanted to hang out anyway. "You're just saying that so I don't throw myself into the River Styx."
"I am not!" Will laughed, leaning back on his hands. "Come on. We've got like, forty-eight hours to kill in a locked room. What do you do in here all day? Do you have any games? Monopoly? Twister? Wait, no, Twister seems like a terrible idea right now."
Nico rolled his eyes, but the heavy knot of guilt in his stomach loosened a fraction. He reached under his bed and pulled out a battered shoebox.
"I have Mythomagic," Nico muttered, suddenly feeling very defensive. For someone who hadn't read the manual in years, he still meticulously protected his deck. "It's a stat-based card game. You collect Greek gods and monsters and fight them against each other using attack points. It’s... nerdy."
Will’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Are you kidding? I love Mythomagic. I haven't played since I was twelve. Prepare to have your ass handed to you by my Apollo hologram card."
For the next two hours, the curse was almost manageable.
Sitting on the floor with their knees practically brushing, they traded cards and argued over attack stats. Will was absolutely terrible at the game. He kept sacrificing his best monsters just to keep his healer cards alive, which made zero strategic sense. Nico ruthlessly destroyed him four games in a row, and every time Will groaned and threw his cards down in defeat, the magic in Nico’s chest hummed with warm, fuzzy satisfaction.
It was terrifying how easily they slipped into this. The curse didn't even feel like a curse anymore; it just felt like an excuse to do exactly what Nico had wanted to do for months.
By the time the grandfather clock in the corner struck midnight, the adrenaline had completely worn off, leaving Nico exhausted.
Will stretched, his joints popping loudly. "Alright, Ghost King. I think my pride has taken enough damage for one day. We should probably get some sleep."
"Yeah," Nico agreed, suddenly very aware that there was only one bed in the room. The other bunks had been folded into the walls years ago to make space. "Um. You can take the bed. I'll take the floor. We're within the ten-foot radius, so it should be okay."
"I am not making the guy with a magical parasite infestatğon sleep on the floor," Will said, standing up. "It’s a big bed. We can share. Unless that’s going to make the magic freak out?"
No, it's going to make ME freak out, Nico thought.
Before Nico could protest, Will grabbed the hem of his orange camp shirt and casually pulled it over his head.
Will tossed the shirt onto a nearby chair, completely unbothered. "Sorry, I run incredibly hot," Will mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Apollo kid stuff. Being in clothes when I sleep feels like a sauna."
Nico was trying incredibly hard to look anywhere else, but it was physically impossible. Will was... gods. He was built like a swimmer, all lean muscle and golden skin, dusted with an obnoxious amount of freckles. But what entirely short-circuited Nico’s thought process was the small, black ink tattoo on Will's left ribcage. It was a minimalist line-drawing of a sunburst.
Nico swallowed hard, his throat desert-dry. The magic was so loud in his head he could barely hear his own thoughts.
"You have a tattoo," Nico blurted out,
Will paused, glancing down at his ribs. A slow, cocky grin spread across his face. "Oh. Yeah. Got it done last summer. Chiron would kill me if he knew." He took a step closer, raising an eyebrow. "You like it?"
"It's fine," Nico squeaked, frantically unzipping his heavy leather aviator jacket to distract himself.
He shucked the heavy jacket off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. As he pulled his arms out, his black t-shirt caught on the friction, riding high up his torso.
The room went dead silent.
Nico pulled the shirt back down, but he caught the look on Will's face. Will wasn't smiling anymore. His blue eyes were blown wide, fixed entirely on the sliver of pale skin and the faint, silvery scar line that had just been exposed on Nico’s hip. Will’s mouth was parted slightly, a very visible flush creeping up his chest and neck.
"I, uh," Will choked out, suddenly looking very interested in the ceiling fan. "I'm going to get in the bed now."
"Right," Nico said, his voice an octave lower than usual. "Good idea. Sleep.
Will scrambled under the dark comforter on the right side of the bed, putting a very deliberate two feet of space between himself and the center. Nico turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness, and cautiously climbed into the left side.
They lay there in silence for ten minutes, both staring straight up at the ceiling. They were within the ten-foot limit, so there was no pain. Just the heavy, electric tension of being inches away from each other.
Nico squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force his heart rate to slow down. But the magic was restless. It wanted proximity. It wanted the warmth radiating off the son of Apollo.
Slowly, without thinking, Nico shifted closer.
He didn't close the gap entirely, but he moved enough that the ambient heat rolling off Will’s bare arm brushed against Nico's side.
Will didn't flinch. In the dark, Nico heard a soft, tired exhale.
"G'night, Nico," Will murmured, his voice rough and sleepy.
Nico stared at the ceiling, his heart doing a ridiculous flip in his chest. "Goodnight, Will."
Will Solace never slept past 7:00 AM, his internal clock was permanently set to a state of exhausted high-alert.
So, when Will finally blinked his eyes open, the heavy, undisturbed silence of Cabin Thirteen felt completely alien.
He shifted slightly, his brain slowly coming online as he realized two things. Firslyt: judging by the aggressive sliver of bright sunlight bleeding through the edges of the blackout curtains, it was definitely well into the afternoon.
Secondly: he could not move his left arm. At all.
Will turned his head on the pillow,
Sometime during the night, the polite two feet of distance they had established had completely vanished. Nico was practically plastered to Will’s left side. One of Nico’s legs was tangled with his, and the Ghost King’s face was shoved deeply into the crook of Will’s neck, his dark hair tickling Will’s jaw.
It was, objectively, the most comfortable Will had been in months. His entire body felt heavy and rested in a way that ambrosia just couldn't replicate.
Will lay perfectly still, staring at the dark ceiling, a massive, idiotically fond smile spreading across his face. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to wake Nico up. He was perfectly content to stay trapped under a Son of Hades for the rest of his natural life.
But as Will’s breathing shifted into a waking rhythm, the boy beside him stirred.
Nico let out a soft, sleepy grumble, his brow furrowing. Instead of jerking away in a panic like Will expected, Nico just shifted closer, letting out a heavy sigh as the magical parasite in his chest bathed in the physical contact. The curse had clearly saturated to a point where the frantic desperation was gone, replaced by a lazy, unapologetic need to just be.
Nico slowly opened his eyes, blinking heavily. His dark irises were hazy with sleep. He didn't pull back. He just tilted his head slightly, realizing exactly where he was, and realizing that Will was awake and watching him.
"Morning," Will whispered, his voice rough with sleep. He felt his face heat up, but he forced himself not to look away. "Or, well. Afternoon, probably."
Nico hummed softly, a low vibration against Will’s collarbone. "What time is it?"
"No idea. Late."
"Good. You looked as tired as you say i look after shadow-traveling.You needed the sleep," Nico mumbled lazily.
Will let out a quiet laugh. "Wow. Even when you're under the influence of an aggressive cuddle-curse, you still manage to insult me. The duality of man."
Nico didn't offer a sarcastic retort. His gaze had drifted down. Because they were so close, Nico’s hand was resting flat against Will’s stomach. Slowly, almost subconsciously, Nico slid his hand up Will’s side, his cold fingertips brushing lightly against the warm skin of Will’s ribs.
Will sucked in a sharp breath, his stomach muscles fluttering uncontrollably at the contact. "Nico?"
Nico didn't answer right away. His index finger found the raised edge of the black ink on Will’s ribcage. Very carefully, Nico began to trace the lines of the minimalist sunburst, following the curve of the musical note etched into Will’s skin. The contrast of Nico’s pale fingers against Will’s golden, freckled skin was mesmerizing.
Will’s heart started hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He was completely paralyzed, afraid that if he breathed too loudly, he would break whatever fragile spell had settled over them.
"You know," Nico said, his voice dropping into a quiet, raspy murmur that sent a shiver straight down Will’s spine. "I've wanted to do this for a while."
"Trace my tattoo?"
"Touch you," Nico corrected softly, his eyes flicking up to meet Will’s.
The words hung in the quiet air of the cabin. A faint, dusty pink blush settled high on Nico’s cheekbones, a brief flash of his usual defensive embarrassment. But the magic in his blood, combined with the safety of the dark room, seemed to override it entirely. Nico just shrugged, the movement small against the mattress, and didn't look away. He didn't seem to really care that he had just confessed something massive. He just kept tracing the sunburst, his touch grounding and deliberate.
Will felt like he was floating. His brain was desperately trying to catch up to the reality that Nico di Angelo—terrifying, beautiful Nico—was currently lying in his bed,I mean technically it wasnt his bed but still, tracing his skin, and admitting he wanted this.
"Yeah?" Will breathed out, a slow, helplessly starry-eyed smile breaking across his face.
Nico’s blush deepened slightly, but he rolled his eyes affectionately. "Don't look so smug about it."
"I am not smug," Will lied, shifting his weight so he could turn slightly toward Nico. He reached out, cautiously resting his hand on Nico’s waist. When Nico didn't flinch, Will let his fingers settle there, perfectly content. "I'm just... really glad to hear that. Because, for the record? The feeling is incredibly mutual."
Nico paused his tracing. He looked up at Will, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through his usual scowl. It was a rare, unguarded expression that made Will’s breath catch all over again.
"I know," Nico said softly, resting his hand flat over the tattoo, right above Will's racing heart. "You're not exactly subtle, Will."
Will laughed, the sound warm and bright in the gloomy cabin. "Hey, I tried to play it cool! I'm mysterious."
"You wear neon orange every single day and you literally glow in the dark when you're happy," Nico pointed out, though he was hiding a smile against Will's shoulder. "There is nothing mysterious about you."
"Whatever, Death Boy," Will murmured, shifting down slightly so their faces were level on the pillows. ...You aren't hurting anymore, right?"
"No," Nico admitted quietly, his dark eyes softening. "I'm not hurting at all. Actually... I think this might be the best I've felt in a really long time."
Will’s expression melted into pure, unadulterated fondness. He gently brushed a stray piece of black hair out of Nico’s eyes. "Good. Then I guess we're just going to have to stay in here a little longer. Doctor's orders."
"Yeah, okay," Nico whispered. "Doctor's orders."