To the world, he was Nico, plain Nico, silent as night, standing six feet tall. To Will, he was Nico, anything-but-plain Nico, morning-cuddle Nico, standing up to his chin.
And right now, he was missing-Nico. Missing Nico's face, able to convey the spectrum of expressions through a scowl, although maybe that was Will's imagination. Missing his voice, the way annoyance would creep silently into it, unnoticeable until it was too late.
For once, from their apartment in Los Angeles, Will couldn't see the sun. Outside, the air was gray as the winds pounded; the storm was setting in.
They had fought, not for the first time, he prayed not for the last. Most of it wasn't special; Will wanted to adopt a child. Nico did not. They usually contained the storm there, maybe making up, maybe sleeping on the far edges of the bed.
But this time, the hurricane broke their walls.
"What is so wrong with a family? No, why are you so scared of one?" His voice was hoarse from screaming, and Nico's eyes held a dangerous glint, but he couldn't stop. "What if I want a family? Did you ever stop to think about that, or do you like being alone?"
The last word hung in the air, and Will instantly cursed himself. Nico's eyes opened up large, and before Will could say anything, the bottom half of Nico had melted into the floor.
"Wait-" He made a grab at Nico's arms, grazing them with his fingers. They were ice cold.
Nico's eyes blazed with the contact, and everything went black as Will was slammed against the wall, scraping his back heavily. And he was gone.
The scrapes healed quickly; with a nibble of ambrosia, the skin smoothed over instantly. Yet no matter how hard he gripped the handle of the door, how hard he dug his fingernails into his arm, how hard he stared at the window, praying he'd see a hooded figure, all he saw was his whimpering reflection.
"Nico," he whispered, to no one in particular.
He found himself walking out of a bathroom, into a shelf full of leather-bound books. Nico looked around, and recognized the place- the New York Public Library, with its masses of gawking tourists and overworked students.
He leaned behind a stone column and sighed, running a hand through his hair. It wasn't fair to Will; his boyfriend deserved a family, with kids and love. Deserved better than him. Will wanted a family. The insinuation was clear- Nico wasn't family.
Who could blame Will? Nico often found himself juggling between helping his father track down enemies, and his career as a criminal prosecutor. Even when he slipped into the house at the crack of dawn, having worked all night, Will was always there, waiting, with a sleepy grin and a warm bed.
"Are you all right darling?"
He looked up, blinking away a tear. No one sane would call him a 'darling'; with his black hair, leather jacket, glaring stare, and tattooed arm, most people crossed the street when he walked by. Yet, standing in front of him was an elderly lady, with gray hair pulled up in a tight bun.
She fussed with her handbag, a garishly pink monstrosity, before pulling out a handkerchief. "Here." She held it out, and Nico took it and dabbed at his eyes. When he looked up again, she was beaming at him.
"Good. It's always nice to let the tears out once in a while, makes you feel better inside."
He smiled softly.
"So, what is it? Love?"
"Yeah." He didn't bother clarifying; she didn't probe, instead grabbing his hand and walking forward. For a four-foot tall woman, she sure had an iron grip.
"Darling, love can hurt. When my first husband left me, all those decades ago, I cried for days." Her eyes twinkled. "Sometimes, reading can help you out of heartache. What do you like to read?"
Truthfully? Nico wasn't the reader; rather, he enjoyed holding a book, secretly watching Will devour a novel like a little kid. From the variety of poses Will's face went through, from innocent and wide-eyed to scrunched in frustration, Nico could almost tell what the story was.
But he didn't say that, instead the first thing that popped into his mind. "Um, I like Greek myths."
The lady positively lit up. "Oh, the Classics! I majored in that in college; they really are something magical, showing that even the heroes had the same problems as you."
The heroes. Percy, Jason, even Will, whose healing touch was braver than any sword. They didn't have these problems; Percy and Annabeth had been happily married for years, and Jason and Piper were literally younger clones of Brad and Angelina.
He abruptly stopped, and almost tripped over the older woman, who had stopped at a bookcase. In her hands, a book titled "The Golden Ass".
She handed it to him, and he stared blankly at her. Was this a joke?
"Read this. It might help you out with your problems."
He nodded, and sat down on the couch, before furrowing his brow and looking back up.
"Thank you."
But the old lady had already vanished. He sighed and opened up the book to a random page, and began to read.
Nico was gone. Will had called his phone more times than he'd like to admit, each time eagerly holding his breath as the beeps sounded, each time falling apart at the Italian's voice- "Hello, this is Nico di Angelo. Please leave a message after the tone."
I love you, he whispered, sobbing quietly into the handheld.
The first time he had said those words, staring into Nico's wide, innocently gazing eyes; Nico had burst into tears.
"Shut up, Solace." Nico never called him by his last name, and Will was shocked to see tears welling in the boy's eyes. "Did the Stolls put you up to this?"
Will moved to stroke the boy's chin, but Nico slapped his arm away.
"I was serious."
"Liar." This time, though, Nico's voice tilted upwards slightly.
Will moved his hand again, and grabbed Nico's head, tilting it upwards. His eyes glistened with tears.
"Do you?"
Instead of answering, Nico had leaned forward and smashed their lips together, making Will leap back in surprise.
Nico had been scared. Scared to let Will love him, as if Will had a choice.
He had wanted a family for as long as he could remember. Unlike many other gods, Apollo had actually remained fairly close to both Will and his mother, and often Will would wake up as a child to Apollo's singing, while his mother played the piano.
And at the orphanage he volunteered at, Will dreamed of helping them. He was sure Nico would be a great father; although Nico would vehemently deny it, Will caught the small smiles he gave children when passing them, how he stared worriedly at teenagers doing skate tricks at the park, how Will once caught a re-animated pumpkin dancing in front of their apartment for Halloween.
Family. He could see it missing throughout the apartment; the framed portrait of Will and Nico holding hands by the river, stashed away in a closet instead of on their door; the missing mewing and barking, Nico didn't want pets; the letters his mother wrote, in flourishing handwriting, asking them to visit her- Will always turned up alone, Nico didn't want to meet his mom. Nico didn't want, Nico didn't like, Nico didn't love.
Nico was ashamed of them.
Nico was ashamed of himself. He had shadow-travelled back to their apartment, only to find Will, tear-streaked and curled up on the window-sill, asleep. Aside from his ragged, soft breathing, Nico occasionally heard Will whimper in his sleep, Nico, Nico.
Psyche, unbeknownst to her husband, crept next to his bed with a flickering candle. She moved it up, so that the light fell upon his face. His skin seemed to shimmer in the candlelight; his beautiful blond hair was woven gold, his eyelids guarding pools of sapphire.
And then he awoke, stared back at her with wide eyes, trembling, fearing. Betrayed. And before Psyche could say a word, the angel of Love had flown away.
He moved aside the sheets in the bed they shared, feeling them in the dark. In his arms, Will stirred, and buried his head into the nook of Nico's arm.
Nico lay his boyfriend down on the bed, and sat down on the edge. Outside, the moon was covered by clouds, although the storm had long passed. He buried his head in his hands, listening to the breathing of his lover.
Through the depths of Hades, through the whips of Venus, Psyche stumbled through for love. Her heart so pure, her mind so clean, the forces of nature conspired with the Gods to assist her.
Thus Psyche at last became united to her Cupid.
The moon peeked out from the clouds, and Nico let his eyes fall upon Will. His Cupid, his family, his love. In the flicker of the moonlight, his skin seemed to shimmer; his beautiful blond hair was woven gold, his eyelids guarding pools of sapphire.
Nico leaned in, and pressed his lips gently to Will.
His Cupid.
A/N: Had an idea, wrote it. Hopefully it's okay, as I'd like to do more of these in the future. Reviews are super appreciated!
