Sorry I've disappeared for a while, my computer's half dead and so are my drafts apparently. But here's something I wrote the other day, hope you guys enjoy!

PJO belongs to Uncle Rick.

Luckily for Will, Nico wasn't very high maintenance; he ate whatever, slept wherever; moved timetables without a complaint. He usually even let Will choose what they were watching on Netflix at night. But if there was one thing Nico hated, it was colds.

Usually, physical injuries wore off quickly, a kid of the Big Three had to get used to the colour of his own blood. But if it was some sort of internal illness he was unbearable.

Will had to admit, that Nico had a pretty good immune system, considering he was from a pre-vaccination time period. Now, his 23 year-old boyfriend was laying down on the worn couch, complaining quite loudly for someone with a clogged nose.

In retrospective, Will should've figured it out, with all the sniffing and sudden chills Nico had felt the day before. Specially because they'd come back from a pool party Percy had thrown. They had gone back to their apartment wearing thin wet shirts, and swimming suits.

"I feel like my lungs are trying to escape me," Will heard Nico moan.

"Did you drink that tea I gave you?" Will asked patiently.

"No," Nico replied. "I don't like tea."

Will rolled his eyes, "It's got antibiotics, it'll help to kill the viruses that make you feel like this!"

"But I don't like it!" Nico whined. "Can't you make coffee with antibiotics instead?Otherwise I feel like a British officer wounded in battle."

"It's a mere cold, Nico," Will reminded him.

"I think I should go to the ER," Nico suggested trying to get up from under his blankets. "This is clearly worse than a cold! A cold wouldn't hurt my soul like this."

"Your soul hasn't felt a thing in a long time," Will deadpanned. "Don't you trust me?"

"Yeah," Nico assured him. "But doctors can't treat people who are close. It clouds your judgement. This is definitely something worse than a runny nose."

"And why do you say that?"

"My brain feel microwaved, and I'm all sweaty."

"That's the fever," Will explained. "It'll wear off with a bit of sleep."

"I can't sleep," Nico huffed. "I hate being sweaty and if I am, then I can't nap."

Will ruffled a hand through his hair.

"Take a shower then," he ordered. "But warm water, not too cold nor too hot."

Nico groaned but got up and walked slowly and making pained noises all of the long, seven steps to their small bathroom.

Will went to fetch some meds from the pharmacy round the corner. He got some sedatives in case Nico had trouble sleeping. By the time he was back, their place was eerily silent.

The son of Apollo saw the bathroom was empty, all traces of a recent shower visible. Next he checked their room. There he found Nico in one of the hoodies Will loved to borrow, snoozing peacefully.

Quietly, he sat next to the younger man and ran his hands through his hair.

He hoped after a good few hours of rest, Nico would feel better. Or at least less complain-ish. For now, he breathed deeply and relaxed.