He Loves Me?

22

A war council had been summoned. Nico had ignored it.

So had Will.

Will had decided that working with his latest patient was more important than listening to a group of demigods squabble, and Nico had joined him. For completely explainable reasons. Nico was sent to cut bandages and fetch ambrosia and keep people from throwing up and by the end of the day he had a newfound respect for the healers of Camp Half-Blood.

Will, quiet for once in his life, washed his hands in the sink while Nico smiled. He had workers hands, calloused and bruised, littered with freckles like stars and scars that that hinted of something dangerous and -

Will had caught his gaze, seen him watching. Nico blushed and turned away, too distracted by butterflies to listen to what Will was saying. Actually forget butterflies, this felt like a blizzard whirling around his stomach, a storm of snow that wouldn't settle. Luckily, at the mention of Chinese food Nico's ears started functioning normally again and he was able to nod his head because yes god dammit he wanted to have Chinese food and chill in his cabin and plan the redesign of it with him. With Will. Which didn't set the snowstorm off again, at all. Or cause a smile to slip onto his face. Or make a grave pop open somewhere in the world. Gods, he needed to get a grip.

Nico shook himself and followed Will out of the infirmary, flipping Clarisse off as she yelled at them for not showing up to the meeting. All in all, it was turning out to be a good night. The air was warm and Will was biting his lip and crickets chirped softly from the strawberry fields. Nico opened the door to his cabin the lights snapped on, illuminating the room with a low glow.

"Hey." Will's voice made Nico stop. "Thanks for helping out today."

Nico definitely did not smile again. "It was fun so, no big deal."

Will tucked his hands into his sleeves, sitting in the middle of the room where pillows were stacked and piled. Nico opened his closet and pulled a blue sweatshirt over his head, then went to claim his spot amongst the darker coloured pillows. Will scoffed.

"Cliche, much?'

Nico looked affronted. "What?"

"The child of darkness sitting in his dark throne."

"Excuse you! It's dark and these happen to be the softest pillows, that only come in black."

Will snorted. "Yeah, sure. Only in black. Like it's not your favourite colour or anything, Goth Boy."

"It's not my favourite colour, actually."

Will looked up.

Nico looked down at his sweatshirt.

Will dragged his gaze across the jersey and have it an appreciative nod before -

"Isn't that mine?!"

Nico smirked. "I don't know, I just happened to find it lying on the back of your chair while you were working. Very careless of whoever left it there."

"Mmm," Will murmured, "very careless."

He moved closer to Nico, running his fingers down the sleeve.

"Most unfortunate." Nico didn't know what he was doing. He only knew that there were shivers down his spine and maybe it was just the day for it, because he hadn't frowned all day, because he couldn't ignore those impossibly blue eyes for much longer, because he was having some sort of weakness come over him and the atmosphere was beautifully, finally, quiet. Will grinned and fiddled with the hem of Nico's sleeve, all light and kind and gentle, so gentle.

What was happening to him today? He was all soft, warm, too close to another person. His breathing quickened. Heat prickled at his skin and the werewolf slashes ached. Nico curled his toes and uncurled them, clenched his arms, even tensed his whole body to rein the feeling in, but he still felt cramped, fraught. Trapped. Nausea rippled through his stomach as he tried to stop thinking, to stop his brain scrambling, because it had no reason to and he was being ridiculous.

So fucking ridiculous.