#and toa is actually referenced this time damn rarity for me

[mediumgayitalian]

"Don't worry about me."

"I'm allowed to worry for people when they are doing stupid, foolish things."

"You worry about everyone."

"False. I've never worried about Cecil Markowitz a day in my life."

Nico snorts, tugging on his boot and yanking on the laces. "Right," he drawls, "and the insistence on walking him fourteen entire fucking miles to the bus stop at the end of camp was because..."

Will flushes. "Because he's stupid, okay. He's actually unwell. I checked his brain and everything. If I leave him alone too long he'll get kidnapped, and then what?" He cocks a hip to one side, crossing his arms and tapping his foot and generally just looking like a carbon copy of his mother. Nico mourns his lack of camera. He needs to send Naomi another snapshot for the Wall of You Do Act Like Me, You Little Shit. "What am I gonna do if he dies, huh? Resort to off-brand Twizzlers? I'd rather kill myself."

The frayed ends of his laces cooperate, finally. He desperately needs new combats but the thought of having to break in a new pair makes him want to strangle the nearest karpoi. Any one of them would do.

Nico pushes himself to his feet, cupping both sides of his boyfriend's scowling face and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, holding there until he feels them soften. He smiles, snickering at Will's huffy pout.

"I am doing one errand," he says, exasperated. "Just one."

Will throws his hands up. "You know who else did one errand?! Orpheus! That's right, dumbass, and he died! So!"

He waves his hands again, because obviously he cannot simply make his point with his words alone. Oh, no. His whole body needs to get involved, or else there is Not Enough Emphasis.

Gods, Nico loves him to death.

To death, and then some.

"You are more dramatic than your father," Nico says, kissing him again before pulling away. "You know that?"

"I thought you loved me," Will grumbles. "I thought you loved me, and then you go around saying such insulting things. Don't you love me? People who love me would never say that to me."

"I have actually heard that exact speech come from Apollo's mouth. Twice, at least."

"I'm about to commit a felony. It rhymes with shmassault and battery."

"Shut the fuck up," Nico says, but he's grinning. Will is scowling hard but doing a very bad job of it, and Nico can actually see the don't you dare fucking laugh you're mad at him you have to stay mad at him flashing around in his eyes.

Nico swipes his thumb gently over his freckled cheeks.

It does not take very long for him to cave.

"I'm just worried," he admits, sagging into Nico's hold. His head, as it always has, fits perfectly in the crook of Nico's neck. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to his temple.

"Knew it."

"Shut up." The quick curve of his exasperated smile twitches against Nico's collarbones. "I just mean. Gods above, Nico. It's all the way across the country."

"I shadow travelled all the way across the world, once," Nico reminds him. He runs a hand through fraying curls. "I was fourteen at the time."

"Yeah, and you almost fuckin' died."

Will pulls away, agitated, and Nico lets him. The fraying curls get worse with every tug of his twitching hands, and the sound of his own echoing pacing makes him jump. The bags are deep and black under his eyes.

Nico sighs.

"Will," he says, and words hard to keep the frustration out of his tone, "Will, sweetheart, you cleared me."

But Will isn't listening. The mumbling has started, and so has the fidgeting; the bandages around his arms twist, and twist, and tug, leaving red marks on his bruised wrists.

"Monitoring hymn," Nico hears him mutter. "Or a lifeline..."

Nico checks his watch. He's -- well, he's late, technically, but he's never been punctual even one time, so it's fine. He's got time. He flops to the marble floors, leaning against his bedpost. He watches his boyfriend, notes the flicker and flash of his glowing freckles, of his spattered burn scars.

You and I both know you will be fine, Chiron had said. He had sighed, long and aged and hard, and stared at his buzzing, fritzy student. It will be good for him. Exposure.

"Will," he calls, eventually. "Tesoro."

Will stops. He blinks, coming back to himself, to the cabin. He searches around, eyes settling on Nico's comfy spot on the floor.

He sighs, shoulders sagging. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. He stands there a long while, still except his breathing, tense.

"Everything is -- green," he says eventually, voice small. "I don't know how to stop it."

"You know how to make it worse," Nico points out, as gently as he can manage. "You've been spiraling for weeks."

"Not -- weeks."

"Since the start of the month."

"Yeah, only a few days."

"It's the thirtieth, Will."

He looks up, eyes wide. "No." He blinks. "Actually?"

Nico's smile is small and sad. "Yes."

"I thought -- I thought --"

"I know."

He doesn't really. He's watched it for years, but he doesn't -- understand, not in the way he understands the depression, the anger, the grief. He and Will have more things in common than they don't, but he doesn't spiral. Not like Will does. His pain has always bubbled and burst its way out of him, tingeing the edge of his vision red and igniting the curl of his fists. His pain has made him quick. His pain has made him quick, it has made him bitter, it has made him miserable, but it has always pushed him forward.

Will's pain gets curled up endlessly inside him, twisting his insides to knots.

It robs him, sometimes.

"Come here."

Will does. The fight has drained out of him, and there are tears in his eyes, even as he tries desperately to blink them away. His bandages lay limp at his sides, fluttering in the breeze from the still-open door.

"It's not that I don't trust you," he says, somewhat desperately. He turns so they're facing each other, criss-crossed knees knocking. "I do."

"I know," Nico says. He manages a small smile. "I always know that, Will."

"Good." His bright eyes soften in relief, fingers rubbing at his sternum. "You -- you're powerful, Death Boy. More than anyone I've ever known."

Nico raises his eyebrows. "Careful with that, Sunshine. You're going to get smited."

"Smote."

"Don't correct me when we're having a vulnerable moment."

"Don't need correcting, then."

Nico's smile widens. Will's, this time, matches, dimple flashing on his left cheek. Nico presses his thumb there, relishing in the sudden heat of Will's face and accompanying rolled, flustered eyes. He lingers, and stares, and stares, even as Will squirms, as the glow turns into something hotter than blood heat.

"I'm going to be okay, my love."

"I know."

"It's one jump. Hazel is waiting, unicorn draught at the ready in case I start swooning like a damsel."

"I know."

"Even my dad knows."

"I know."

"I would actually have to try to die, Will. Like there would have to be real effort on my part."

"Just --" he scrunches up his nose -- "I don't know what you could say that would make me less scared of it. Of losing you."

"I mean it would kind of suck if you did." He tilts their foreheads together, because it looks stupid as shit at this angle, and he knows Will'll laugh. He's right. "Since you love me and everything."

"I suppose it's one of those conditions," Will allows. "The whole caring if you up and die thing."

"Yep."

"S'a real pain in the ass."

"You're telling me. I was just fine being an emo loner, not giving a fuck about anything, and then you had to go ruin it. Now I gotta stress about your wellbeing and shit."

"Must be exhausting."

"Miserable." He reaches for Will's hands and squeezes, hard, until Will squeezes back. "It is the most important thing to me, though. Ever."

Will swallows. "Okay."

"I love you, Will Solace. Even when you are annoying about grammar and when you are prodding me about my iron levels and when you are so far in your head you're losing time." He pulls back slightly, just enough to press a kiss to Will's knuckles. "Especially then."

"I love you, too." Will swallows. "You'll be okay."

"I will."

"And you'll IM me when you get there."

"I will."

"And I'll be okay. Waiting."

Nico smiles softly. "You will be."

Will takes a deep breath. He nods. He stands, pulling them both up, and walks to the darkest corner of the Hades cabin, shoulders tense but face brave. He turns, exhaling slowly, and brushes invisible lint of Nico's shoulders, hands lingering.

"I will see you when you get back," he says.

"When I get back," Nico echoes. He kisses him again. "Worrier."

Will huffs, and Nico laughs, and he lets go, and Will lets him, and he steps into the familiar darkness, and the last thing he sees before the shadows envelope him is the trust in Will's light eyes.