Work Text:
Words of Affirmation
The infirmary was quiet at two in the morning, save for the scratching of Will’s pen. He was sitting at the front desk, surrounded by messy stacks of inventory sheets and half-empty bottles of nectar. He looked absolutely exhausted, his blond hair standing up at odd angles where he’d been running his hands through it, a dark bruise of fatigue settling under his eyes.
Nico stood in the doorway for a long moment, arms crossed, watching him. Will was always the one taking care of everyone else, and he was terrible at recognizing when he was running himself into the ground.
Nico stepped into the room, the soft thud of his boots making Will jump.
"Nico? What are you doing up?" Will blinked, rubbing his eyes. "Are you feeling okay? Is it ghost stuff?"
"I'm fine," Nico said flatly, walking over and gently but firmly plucking the pen out of Will's hand. He pushed the clipboard away. "You, however, look like a zombie. And I know what zombies look like."
"I just have to finish the inventory," Will sighed, rubbing his temples. "The Hermes cabin got into poison ivy today, and I went through half our calamine lotion. If I don't document it, I'll forget, and if there's an emergency tomorrow, I won't be prepared, and I just—I have to be prepared, Nico."
Will’s voice cracked slightly, heavy with the terrifying weight of being the head healer at a camp where kids constantly got hurt.
Nico didn't know how to do the soft, comforting thing. He didn't have Will’s easy charm or natural warmth. But as he looked at Will—the guy who had dragged him out of the dark, who insisted on sitting next to him at meals, who played terrible music and smiled at him like he was someone worth knowing—Nico felt a sudden, fierce need to make the anxiety in Will's eyes go away.
"You're an idiot," Nico said softly.
Will blinked, hurt flashing across his tired face. "Nico, I really don't have the energy for—"
"You're an idiot," Nico interrupted, stepping closer until his knees bumped against Will's chair, "because you think you have to be perfect for everyone. You don't."
Nico swallowed hard. His heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird, and his palms felt sweaty, but he forced himself to hold Will's gaze.
"You are the best healer here, Will. You're brilliant. You work harder than anyone, and you keep people alive. You keep me alive." Nico’s voice dropped to a rough whisper, his pale cheeks burning a brilliant crimson, but he refused to look away. "You're the brightest thing in this whole stupid camp. And... and I love you. So you need to stop beating yourself up and go to sleep."
Silence blanketed the infirmary. Will just stared at him, his mouth slightly open, the exhaustion seemingly wiped clean from his face in an instant.
Nico immediately felt the urge to shadow-travel into the nearest wall. "I'm going to leave now," he muttered, turning on his heel.
Before he could take a single step, Will caught his wrist. He didn't pull him back, just held on gently, a brilliant, blindingly soft smile breaking across his face. It was the kind of smile that made Nico’s chest ache in the best way possible.
"I love you too, Death Boy," Will whispered, his voice incredibly tender. "And okay. I'll go to sleep."
Nico didn't turn around, but he squeezed Will's hand back, a small, genuine smile tugging at his own lips. "Good."
Quality Time
The Hades cabin was inherently designed for brooding, but it also happened to be the absolute perfect environment for a movie night. Complete darkness, practically zero drafts, and a very comfortable, oversized beanbag chair that Will had dragged over from the Apollo cabin three days ago.
Tucked into the corner was a chunky, bronze-plated television set and DVD player—heavily modified by the Hephaestus cabin so it wouldn't send up a magical flare to every monster on Long Island.
Will had insisted on Star Wars. Nico had claimed he didn't care, but the truth was, he wasn't really watching the movie anyway. He was watching Will.
"Okay, here it comes," Will whispered loudly, leaning forward and practically vibrating with excitement. He was clutching a bowl of popcorn like a lifeline. "This is the best part."
On screen, two glowing swords clashed. Before the sound effects could even fully register through the tinny speakers, Will was already making the noises himself.
"Vvvvrrrr. Ksssh. Vrrrrm," Will muttered under his breath, leaning left and right as if he were dodging the blows himself. He even attempted a dramatic, slow-motion gasp when a character lost a hand.
Nico stared at him. Will Solace, head healer of Camp Half-Blood, a guy who routinely stitched up demigods without flinching, was currently waving a rogue, un-popped kernel of popcorn around like a tiny lightsaber.
"You are such a dork," Nico said, trying to keep his voice flat.
"I'm a Jedi, di Angelo, respect the rank," Will shot back without taking his eyes off the screen. He lifted a free hand, gesturing vaguely at a cup of water on the nightstand, and squinted in deep concentration. "Use the Force, Will... use the Force..."
The cup, unsurprisingly, did not move. Will sighed heavily and slumped back against the beanbag. "The dark side clouds my abilities."
It started as a small huff of breath, but before Nico could stop himself, it bubbled up into his chest. A real, actual laugh slipped out—a bright, ringing sound that surprised him just as much as it surprised Will.
Will’s head snapped over, his eyes wide. The movie was completely forgotten. The blue light from the screen painted his face, highlighting a slow, incredibly tender smile that spread across his features.
"What?" Nico asked defensively, his laughter tapering off into a sudden flush, suddenly hyper-aware of how close their shoulders were pressed together.
"Nothing," Will said softly. He abandoned his popcorn bowl entirely, shifting his weight so he was fully facing Nico. He didn't look back at the screen for the rest of the battle. "I just... really like spending time with you."
Nico rolled his eyes to hide his smile, but he let his head drop sideways to rest lightly against Will's shoulder. "Just watch your movie, Skywalker."
"Mhm," Will hummed warmly, slipping an arm around Nico's waist. "I am."
Acts of Service
Nico was exhausted. He had just spent three hours in the arena getting relentlessly pulverized by a very enthusiastic Clarisse, and all he wanted to do was collapse face-first into his mattress.
Usually, entering the Hades cabin meant navigating an obstacle course. Nico wasn't exactly a neat freak. His floor was typically a minefield of discarded black t-shirts, scattered Mythomagic cards he would deny owning if asked, and empty juice boxes. He was used to kicking a path through the clutter to reach his bed.
But when he pushed the heavy Stygian iron door open, he stopped dead in his tracks.
The floor was completely clear. His clothes were neatly folded in a stack on his dresser. The empty juice boxes were gone, the trash can was empty, and his heavy aviator jacket was actually hung on a hook instead of thrown over the back of a chair.
Sitting on the floor near the foot of Nico's bed was Will. He had his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in deep concentration as he meticulously stacked Nico’s Mythomagic cards into neat, color-coded piles.
"What are you doing?" Nico asked, his voice rough from shouting in the arena.
Will jumped slightly, dropping a Hades rare foil card. He looked up, a smudge of dust on his nose. "Hey. You're back early."
"Will," Nico said, suddenly feeling incredibly defensive and a little embarrassed. His cheeks flushed hot. "You didn't have to do this. I was going to clean it. Eventually."
"I know you were," Will said easily, not sounding judgmental in the slightest. He gathered the rest of the cards and set them carefully on the nightstand. "But you were getting your butt kicked by the Ares cabin, and I had an hour to kill before my shift in the infirmary. Besides, I tripped over a combat boot yesterday and nearly broke my ankle. I consider this preventative medical care."
Nico stared at him. He was waiting for the lecture. He was waiting for Will to tell him he needed to take better care of his space, or ask why he was so messy in the first place. That was what people usually did. They saw the mess and assumed Nico was just broken or lazy.
But Will didn't do that. Will just walked over to the mini-fridge in the corner, pulled out a bottle of water, and tossed it to Nico.
"You push yourself too hard in the arena," Will said softly, stepping closer. He reached out, gently wiping a smudge of dirt off Nico’s cheek with his thumb. "I just wanted you to be able to come back and actually rest. Without having to step over a mountain of laundry."
Nico looked down at the perfectly folded stack of black shirts. He thought about Will—exhausted, overworked Will—taking his one free hour to quietly organize Nico’s chaos just so Nico could have a peaceful place to sleep. A tight, overwhelming ache of affection bloomed in his chest, so strong it almost knocked the wind out of him.
He didn't have the words for it. So, instead, Nico stepped forward and pressed his forehead firmly against Will’s shoulder, letting out a long, shuddering sigh.
Will chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around Nico and resting his chin on top of Nico's hair. "You're welcome, Death Boy. Now drink your water."
i will finish this like tomorrow i think