Solangelo One Shots (fluff)

Story XLVI

⚠ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠ this oneshot contains mention of suicide. Proceed with caution. Please read safely, take care of yourself first. Also, for the ease of mind, neither of our boys make any sort of attempt, so you can take solace (hehe) in that.

Nico sat on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other with a book in hand. It was around six and Nico already had dinner in the oven. The kitchen was clean and all he was waiting for was his husband.

As if on cue, he heard the jingling of keys in the front door. He heard the shuffling of shoes on the doormat and the heavy thud of a briefcase. Nico smiled to himself as he placed his book down and headed to greet Will at the door.

"Hey," Nico called as he made his way down the hallway to the front door. He couldn't help the little pep in his step.

He heard a faint "hello", but when he went to greet Will, he wasn't at the door. Nico furrowed his brow and saw the shadow of his husband down the hall to their room.

The door opened, then shut.

Something heavy landed in Nico's stomach as he stared at the darkened hallway. That was odd. Usually Will greeted him, gave him a hug and a kiss before telling him about his day. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Nico cautiously went down the hall and stopped at the door. He was about to knock, but as he leaned closer, he heard faint sniffling sounds.

He gulped, his heart feeling like lead. He placed his ear to the door and listened more closely. It broke his heart. Quiet sobs gasping through the door.

He gently rapped his knuckles against the wood. "Will, honey, is everything alright?" he asked, his voice just loud enough to where he was sure Will would hear.

The sniffling paused. "Of course, Nico, why wouldn't it be?" his voice was faint through the door. It was cracked and heavy and whatever lie Will just tried to tell, Nico was not buying it.

Nico took a breath, calming his raised anxiety. "May I come in?" his hand reached for the door handle, but he didn't turn it.

He didn't get an answer. He heard shuffling and muffled sobs, but Will never answered. Nico took that probable no as a yes and turned the handle.

It wasn't locked, thank gods, and he cracked it open the tiniest bit. "Will, I'm coming in," Nico said as he peaked into their room.

It was pitch black and with the seeping hallway light, Nico barely made out the shape of his husband sitting on the side of he bed. He rested his elbows on his knees and his hands were firmly gripping his hair.

"Don't—don't look at me," Will whimpered, angling his body away from Nico, hiding his face. One of his hands dropped to his thigh, and with a tightly fisted hand, he hit it against himself, the side of his fist hitting his leg with a dull smack. His knuckles were white and his hits got harder, the fat of his thigh rippling out under his pants. His forearm tensed as he let down a particularly hard punch, making Nico wince.

Nico felt tears prick his eyes from the state of his husband. He stepped forward once more and sat gingerly at the edge of the bed, a safe distance away from Will.

"Love?" Nico said gently. "What happened?" his voice was impossibly soft and he reached a gentle hand out to place on Will's thigh. His palm was up, and when Will brought a fist down to hit himself again, he fell short, stopping as he noticed Nico's hand. His fist fell into Nico's open palm limply and Nico wrapped his hand around Will's still tight fist.

He noticed Will was still in his scrubs, the maroon fabric thin under his hand.

Another sob wrecked Will's body and he moved just the slightest back in Nico's direction. "I—I can't,"