Marcel

Headcanon that Will starts to get grey hair from the stress of the infirmary c:

Imma write something, lmao.

Will sighed, walking out of the infirmary, heading over to Cabin Thirteen.  He was exhausted but, he promised he’d go check up on Nico.  Climbing the steps of the cabin, he walked into the dark abode.

“Will?  Is that you,” Nico croaked from under the covers.  The son of Hades had come down with a nasty flu and was bed-ridden.  He was so sick, he didn’t even fight to get out of bed.

Fortunately, Will couldn’t sick from this.

Unfortunately, it was because Will gave Nico the flu.

“It’s me,” Will responded halfheartedly.  He sighed and closed the door, slipping his shoes off and climbing into the bed, a spot right beside the burrito called Nico.

“What’s up,” Nico asked, turning over to face his blond boyfriend.  Will merely shrugged, closing his eyes as Nico started to play with his hair.  “How was work?”

“It was fine,” Will responded, wrapping his arms around Nico, who was uncomfortable warm already.  He dismissed the thought and curled closer to Will, letting himself be enveloped in Will’s arms.

Nico continued to play with Will’s hair until suddenly, he thought the sickness was getting to him.  A few single grey hairs, completely unnoticeable if you weren’t looking.  Nico could barely see them as they mixed with the blond hair.

“Hey, baby,” Nico said, pulling back.  “Why don’t you take a few days off?  Stay with me…”  

Will shook his head.  “Too many injured…  I have to stay…”

“Will, you do know that there are other children of Apollo, right?  If they need you, they’ll have to drag you out of this bed, alright?”

Nico watched the blond, twirling the hair between his fingers.  Will was physically relaxing at the notion so, Nico smiled a bit, even if his stomach didn’t permit the feeling.

“Okay,” Will mumbled, digging his head into Nico’s shoulder.  “I love you…”

“I love you too,” Nico replied, smiling and closing his eyes, curled up with the boy.

Solangelo + 20? (Not angst, please? :3)

Of course, frand! Sorry, I meant to finish this yesterday but alas

20: things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

The apartment he shares with Cecil Markowitz is positively ancient. The stairs creak like the bones of a great-grandfather elephant, the plumbing moans and groans and sputters every time someone in the building takes a shower or flushes the toilet or washes their hands. The carpet has endured so much that Will isn’t even sure what the original color was meant to be. Every appliance looks like it was dragged straight out of the beginning of time, because it was.

The landline is no exception. It’s off-white and clunky with a spiral chord that’s really only good for tripping over and twisting fingers through during particularly intense discussions with various take-out places. The keys stick, the receiver kicks up static, the numbers are wearing off, and sometimes when they’re put on hold, they can still hear everything being said on the other end.

It’s normally not that big of a deal, it’s a problem that can be solved by setting the phone down and walking away, but occasionally, Will overhears things that he maybe shouldn’t have. 

Once, it was it was a dramatic break up that Will didn’t have the willpower to walk away from, another time it was a single sentence that held altogether too much information and painted a mental image that would be burned behind his eyelids to this day, but this time listening in seemed harmless. After all, he just wanted to sit and pine a little, let his ears be caressed by the soft way that Nico di Angelo pronounced his vowels, and maybe laugh because his roommate is altogether the most ridiculous person he has ever met.

It did start out that way. The two friends were just discussing the latest episode of some sci-fi horror show that Will didn’t have the time or the patience for (but that he was then considering picking up for the sake of a crush) and Cecil was making some comment about a character who he thought was hot and Nico was laughing and saying, I don’t know, I prefer blue eyes over green. (Will was counting that as a score, although he should probably be a little offended that Cecil seems to have forgotten that he put him on hold at all.)

But then Cecil was laughing and saying, “Oh, I know. How’s it going with you and Mr. Blue Eyes anyway?” and Will’s hand was slowly suffocating because he’d pulled the cord so tight around his wrist.

So, now he’s wadded up on the couch with an ancient beast of a phone curled up on his lap like a temperamental cat, its tail winding down his forearm, and his breath is maybe just a little too shallow as Nico sighs softly and breathes, “I don’t know. I really like him, Cecil.” (He has trouble with the soft ‘I’ sound and Will’s heart is behaving strangely because he knows that his name sounds like ‘Weel’ when he says it.)

He wants it so badly to be him. It’s wishful thinking, it’s dangerous hoping. He knows that there are countless other people with blue eyes and he’s only one of them. He knows that his chances are slim.

His roommate lets out a shallow laugh, “I know. You’ve liked him for years. Maybe it’s time you stop gushing over him to me and actually do something about it.”

Will can practically see Nico standing with his hip popped and his bottom lip firmly between his teeth, eyebrows drawn inward. “I’m just… scared, you know? Don’t you think he would have said something to you before now if he liked me back?”

“Nico…” Cecil is pausing and letting out a long, slow breath just to bide himself some time. It’s one of his things, like moving his hands a lot to distract people from his face or straightening up to the point of snapping to overcompensate for nervousness, “just because we’re roommates doesn’t mean that he tells me everything.”

Will’s throat closes up entirely, his mind narrows down to a single word: roommates.

Everything is spinning. What if he heard wrong? He must have heard wrong. He doesn’t want to believe that he didn’t hear correctly. Cecil only has one roommate.

And then Nico says, “Yeah, but Will is also your best friend,” and he honest-to-God chokes on air.

‘Will,’ with a long ‘e’ sound and, ‘best friend’ with slight roll to the ‘r.’

His mouth is dry but his chest is warm and every single part of him wants to scream or cry.

He’s only half-listening to Cecil’s reassurances of, He looks at you like you hung the moon, and, He’d have to be crazy to not like you back, but he snaps back to attention when Nico lets out a frustrated groan and whines, “Cecil, he’s just too pretty.”

“Mmm…” Cecil mumbles, and Will knows that he’s smiling, but not nearly as much as he is.

“Yeah. I just… I’m weak for boys with freckles, what can I say?”

Will feels his whole face flush and reaches up to touch the freckles scattered over his cheeks with disbelief. They’ve been a source of insecurity for as long as he can remember. 

Cecil laughs, “So you’ve told me.”

“I’m sorry.” Nico is mumbling and Will likes to imagine that he’s blushing just as much as he is. “I just have to get it out.”

“Never fear! You can ramble about my best friend as much as you’d like.”

Nico laughs and Will curls around the phone in his lap and presses the receiver closer to his ear, letting his eyes drift shut and his face settle into a wide grin. Nico’s laugh has always been something that he loves. It’s loud and abrupt and it looks like it surprises him every time because his hand flies up to hide his mouth and his eyes blow wide before crinkling into slats.

“Alright, but you asked for it.” It sounds so much like a legitimate warning that Will is actually scared for all of a half of a second. “It’s like… He’s just… warm, you know? He walks into a room and everyone smiles just because he’s Will Solace. It really isn’t fair… and fuck. I love it. And I love his hair. It just looks so damn soft. I just want to run my fingers through it, is that so much to ask?” Now Will is imagining him doing just that. His slender fingers slipping through his hair, brushing over his scalp, and his face resting in a soft smile. It makes his mind chug to a stop for a few seconds.

Cecil snorts softly, “It actually is pretty damn soft.”

“Fuck off,” Nico growls. Will can tell that he’s wearing one of his signature glares and he laughs a little because he knows that he never really means anything by it.

Cecil lets out a brief huff of air and drawls, “If you insist,” and Will decides that he’s not going to read into that too much.

“Shut your mouth, Markowitz.” Nico is clearly amused, but he’s snarling and probably trying to fight to keep a smirk off of his face even though Cecil can’t see him.

“Hey, I don’t have to let you gush about all of your crushes. I do have other things that I could be doing.”

Nico scoffs at the exact same moment that Will does and says, “Sure, because stalking the cute guy at the library is really a valuable use of your time.”

Will thinks he might be falling for him all over again.

An overly-exaggerated gasp comes from Cecil’s end, “I am not stalking anyone! I happen to enjoy literature.”

There’s a pause where Will is positive that Nico is giving the wall of his apartment a disbelieving eye-roll. “Alright, then name three books that you read for fun before you met Elliot.”

“His name is Ellis–” Cecil starts and then clears his throat and scoffs angrily, “Okay, so maybe I like him, but at least I haven’t been in love with him for God-knows-how-long.”

“He’s totally out of my league,” Nico mumbles and Will’s mind is so busy tripping over the word love and the fact that Nico didn’t even try to deny it that he completely disregards the sound of their faulty doorknob being jimmied until the door finally bursts open and Cecil is standing in the entryway, phone pressed between his ear and shoulder and grocery bags dangling from his arms.

The phone topples to the floor when his eyes meet the sight of Will sitting on the couch and he quickly connects a set of dots that makes his head jerk upward. “Oh my God.”

On the phone, Nico’s voice is still filtering into Will’s ear, “Cecil? Cecil, are you alright?”

“How much did you hear?” Cecil doesn’t even glance at his cellphone to make sure it’s okay.

Will’s fingers are tightening around the phone and Nico’s worried voice is making him want to reach out to him and make sure he knows that everything is alright, put a stop to his fright, but he just lets out a shuddering breath and chokes, “Everything.”

Cecil’s mouth is having trouble actually forming words until his expression clears, eyebrows shooting upward hopefully, and he drops the bags (Will hopes vaguely that he didn’t buy eggs) and rushes forward. “Wait. Do you like him? Oh God, please say yes.”

Now it’s Will’s mouth that’s having issues. He takes a moment to set the phone aside and breathe. “I do. I fucking… I really like him, Cecil.”

The expression that blooms across his friend’s face is so completely overjoyed that Will finds himself grinning back without even thinking about it.

“Will! That’s great. You have to go over there and tell him. He’s crazy about you, Solace. You know that. You heard him. Will, he once rambled on about your freckles for like ten minutes, I swear to God.” He’s already turning around and grabbing his phone off of the floor, waving Will off as he sputters, “I can’t just go over there–”

“Nico, I’m sending you over a surprise!” Cecil exclaims into his phone, and Will snatches up the landline to hear the Italian scoff, “Yeah, because that went so well last time.”

“Last time?” Will rolls his eyes as Cecil just flaps his hand at him in return.

“I promise that you’ll like this. If you don’t, I will clean your apartment for a month.” 

Nico is stammering something about goddamn barber shop quartets when Cecil hangs up and whips around to face Will, “You are going over there and you are confessing your undying love to him. I will drag you there if I have to, okay? The guy deserves this. You deserve it. Don’t be an idiot, Will.”

Will gulps audibly, “Alright.”

He makes a mental note to apologize to their neighbors for the volume of the, ‘YES!’ that Cecil shouts while pumping his fist in the air and gets up to find his shoes.

Nico lives about five minutes away as the desperately whipped man runs.

His apartment is approximately five stars nicer than theirs according to Yelp and is on the thirteenth floor of the building with a stellar view, so it’s a blessing that there’s actually an elevator in it. Will spends the entire time in the metal contraption alternating between trying to check his appearance in the shiny silver door and glancing upward nervously as the arrow ticks closers and closer to his destination. 

When the doors slide open with a pleasant bing, he musters every ounce of courage he has and steps out into the hallway.

It’s ridiculous, really, because he knows for a fact that Nico feels the same way he does, but his hands are shaking and his heart is pounding (although that might have something to do with the run) and he keeps trying to string together some sort of something to say to him, but nothing seems quite right.

He stands in front of apartment number 327 for several long minutes before he finally thinks, What the Hell, I’ll improvise, and knocks. He’s regretting that decision as soon as it’s made because now Nico is calling that he’ll be there in a second and he’s actually going to be at the door soon and Will isn’t ready for that at all, so his internal monolog is basically, “Shitshitshitshit.”

The door swings open and Nico’s eyes about pop out of his head. “Oh, Will,” he breathes (Will has never noticed that he always says his name like it’s a relief) and his lips slowly curve into a smile.

Will just stands and looks at him. Nico’s messy, thick hair and Nico’s soft olive skin and Nico’s small pink lips and Nico’s big brown eyes. And his crop top.

“Hey,” he chokes, and then he steps forward and touches his face just because he wants to. It’s smooth and warm and Nico’s eyes are so amazingly wide.

“Will?” he asks, and his fingers brush against his wrist. It makes his eyes flutter closed and he presses their foreheads together, swallows thickly.

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?” His voice is so quiet, almost reverent. 

Nico’s chest is cracking open and his heart is spilling out and his throat is closing up, so he just lets shaking fingers brush against Will’s neck and across his jaw, over his cheeks, his vast collection of lovely little sun spots. His fingers slide into golden hair, spun just for this moment, and Will’s breathing hitches.

Their lips meet carefully. Wills hands drop to press into the skin at the small of Nico’s back and his fingers curl inward.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted and he parts his lips slowly, pulls Nico’s breath into his mouth and tastes the fresh mint of toothpaste or gum. Their tongues meet somewhere in the middle and flick playfully until a laugh bubbles from deep within Nico’s chest and Will presses kisses around his grinning mouth and across his cheek, nuzzles into his temple and pushes his hands through his hair.

There’s a soft gasp when he dives the softness of his neck, feels Nico arch against him beautifully as soon as his lips touch against his Adam’s apple. His skin is clean and lovely and Will’s teeth scrape carefully over it, faint enough that Nico curls forward and presses his face into Will’s hair, breathing shallow.

“Solace,” he whispers, and one hand slips down over his chest, makes Will shiver. “I love you.”

Will pulls back just so that he can look at him and draw a thumb across his cheek. “I love you too. Nico, I’ve loved you for so long…”

They spend the evening curled around each other and no matter how much Will touches him, it’s not enough. He wants to kiss him until he’s breathless and paint marks across his throat and teach him that he’s the most beautiful thing Will has ever seen. He wants to wrap himself around him and never leave.