This was for my writers block.

Humming

Nico had long ago turned off his own music and casually leaned over to listen to the humming of the cheery blond boy on the opposite lounge. He was bored, he was tired, he was low on caffeine and his flight had been delayed overnight; plus the guy had a decent voice on him.

But Nico had a bitch attitude to maintain and so he tapped the suspiciously soft puff of golden sunshine locks and cleared his throat unnecessarily. The boy turned around, and Nico sensed a blinding smile on his face.

"You realise you're singing that out loud, right?" Nico told him, gesturing to the iPod in the other's hand and not looking at the face that made the nice sound just yet.

"Shit, sorry!" the boy cursed, yanking out his earphones and looking at them like they'd caused the apocalypse. Nico glanced up from the thoroughly scolded bits of hardware to the person who was wearing them. He never knew such a big mistake could have hit him in his young age.

Whoever this guy was, he wasn't exactly a boy. More of a pre-man. Maybe nineteen or twenty-ish. There were light freckles on his nose and he had a Californian tan, all smooth and bronzed and really nice looking. His smile was bright and happy and carefree and, as mentioned before, his hair was golden and soft, sticking up at all types of angles and managing to loop a halo of locks around his head. His eyes were the same kind of bright blue as the sky and Nico was vividly reminded of one of his Mythology classmates drawings of a modernised Apollo, Greek god of the sun.

"Was it really that loud?" the pseudo-god asked sheepishly, rubbing his neck. Nico shook himself out of his admiration trance.

"Not really," he admitted. "But I haven't had enough coffee to deal with anything. My flight's been ridiculously delayed."

The blond nodded seriously.

"I feel you," he said. "My plane was supposed to be here ages ago too." He suddenly looked away in embarrassment. "I'm really sorry you had to hear me singing, by the way."

Nico was surprised.

"Why?" he asked. The boy – man – shook his head.

"I can't sing for shit," he said. "My whole family can sing like a heavenly choir if they wanted to, but I sound like a strangled cat in its death throes. I wouldn't wish that on anyone's ears."

Nico shuffled in his seat to see the pretty boy better, and let his mouth run itself.

"It wasn't that bad," he told the obviously-an-undercover-deity. "Maybe you were just humming too low for it to be deafening."

The blond chuckled and Nico allowed himself a small smile.

"I'm Will, by the way," the would-be Apollo said. "Will Solace."

Nico hesitantly offered his hand.

"Nico," he said. Will cocked his head.

"No last name?"

Nico bit the inside of his lip and thought it over. Should he say his last name?

"Just Nico."

Will smiled.

"Well, okay then, Just Nico. Do you want to grab a coffee with me?"

Nico quirked his eyebrow.

"Why?" he asked. Will shrugged, his shirt moving softly against the leather airport lounge.

"You said you hadn't had enough coffee," he pointed out. "And your flight's delayed. And I'm bored. You probably are too. So, coffee?"

Nico's brain started going off on a tangent of wild thoughts. Was this hot stranger asking him on a date? He wasn't much experienced with how dates went, but his sister Hazel and her boyfriend Frank went out for coffee a lot and called it a date. But they knew each other. Nico didn't know this guy.

"Sure," he said, and then mentally berated himself for being so weak in the light of those blue, blue eyes. Will's face lit up and he scrambled off the couch, picking up his backpack and slinging it on before pocketing his iPod, phone and wallet. Nico grabbed his carry-on bag too and looped it over his shoulder. They both left their baggage in the lounge under the impression that no one would want to steal their underwear, making away from the scattered bunches of other passengers who were stuck waiting as well and heading for the café just around the corner.

"So, where were you going?" Will suddenly asked, looking over at Nico, who raised his eyebrow.

"I mean on the plane," the blond added.

"Oh," Nico said. "Well, I was just visiting my sisters in San Francisco, and this flight was supposed to take me back to NYC."

"Do you live in New York?" Will sounded surprised. Nico glanced quickly at him.

"Yeah," he said slowly, "you could say that."

Will's brow furrowed, and Nico had to look away before his brain told him something stupid – like how cute the stranger was.

"But… what're your sisters doing in San Fran then?" He gave Nico a once-over. "You don't look much older than fifteen."

Nico scowled.

"I'm turning nineteen in two months," he bit out. "I'm a legal adult, I can visit who I want."

Petulant sounding sure, but Nico didn't care. He hated it when people got his age wrong; everyone he'd ever known always said he looked so much younger than he was.

Will sheepishly rubbed his chin.

"Ah, sorry."

He stopped walking when the floor under their feet changed from marbled tile to lacquered wood. They'd arrived at the coffee place. Nico looked around.

There was a sleepy-looking register girl, who seemed about to take a nap right on the counter. There were only two other customers, who were gripping their mocha's tightly, like someone would take them away. Will started forward.

"What would you like?" he asked, hand going for his back pocket where his wallet was sticking out. Nico followed him up, and instead of replying to the blonde's question, he addressed the employee, who was a little more awake now she had a job to do.

"Black coffee, please," he said. "With sugar."

The girl nodded and flicked her tired eyes to Will. But he was looking at Nico.

"Not a milk person, huh?" he said, and Nico shrugged.

"Not really one for drinking excreted creamy shit," he replied smoothly. Will smirked, then he laughed.

"I don't know if I should be impressed by that innuendo or-" he stopped and wiped a finger under his eye. "No, I'm just impressed. Skinny latte, with sugar, thanks." He said the last bit to the girl, who'd just arrived back with Nico's drink. Nico took his cup, wrapping his fingers around it and enjoying the warmth that suddenly came with the hot coffee. He took a sip, and sighed appreciatively. Caffeine was good. He liked caffeine.

When Will's order came, Nico saw put his cup down and fished for his wallet, pulling out enough to pay for his coffee. He and Will made eye contact, and they both put down what they owed, with a little extra as a tip for the tired girl.

"Get yourself one," Nico heard Will telling her. "Even if it's not good for your body to deny rest, you need the energy."

She looked up at him and smiled.

"Thank you, sir," she said, and stumbled away to make herself a double-shot with extra sugar. Nico eyed the blond as he sat down.

"I'm studying medicine," Will offered, pouring a sachet of sugar into his frothy cup. "And you know, that kind of stuff."

"You want to be a doctor?" Nico asked, taking another draft from his coffee. Will nodded.

"Yeah. I like helping people." He glanced at Nico, who was eyeing him "What?"

Nico shook his head and had another mouthful of coffee.

"I don't even know you – barely – and I already knew you were the helping type."

Will pouted.

"Well, what're you hoping to do?" he challenged. Nico put his cup down onto the table.

"Forensic pathology," he said quietly. Will jerked back in his seat.

"Woah," he exclaimed. "Really?"

Nico frowned.

"Yes, really," he said bitingly. "Why, what's the problem?"

Will was looking at him. Was that admiration in his eyes?

"No, I just didn't… expect that." He chuckled, stirring his coffee unnecessarily. "I thought you were an aspiring artist or writer, to be honest."

Nico sighed. He'd heard that before too.

"No," he said wearily. Then without thinking, he added, "I was always going to follow the family business."

There was a moment where he didn't actually compute what he'd said, and then it passed, and he did. Nico went stiff as a board, eyes frozen on the lip of his coffee cup, fingers going white from holding it so tight.

"Family business?"

Nico closed his eyes and wished himself away. He fucked up.

And just when he was starting to like Will, too.

"Yes," he all but snapped, preparing to stand and run. "Yes, fine." He pretty much glared at Will.

"Being a medical student, you'd know all about my family's business. Recall the gigantic, sky-scraping monstrosity with the blacked out windows and uninviting aura in the middle of New York?"

Will could only nod.

"Di Angelo and Sons," Nico said bitterly. "You've just met the and Sons. Congratulations; I'm going to go now."

Nico got up, his hand still wrapped around this coffee cup, and made for the exit, not really wanting to see the disgust and horror on the pretty not-a-complete-stranger-anymore's face. It was the reaction he always got when people found out who he was and consequently, who his family was. There wasn't much point dragging anything out.

Throwing his cup in the bin, Nico stalked back towards where his baggage was, wanting to move it as far away across the terminal as he could get from Will Solace, so he didn't have to endure the awkward shifting and side glances, as if Nico was going to kill him then and there and then cut up his body. He hated it when people did that.

And then there was someone behind him, and his wrist had something warm around it and Nico was suddenly being spun around to be met with the pseudo-god face of a certain happy-pro-life med student that he'd just met and already liked.

"So you're the infamous Nico di Angelo," Will Solace said, his fingers slipping between Nico's and curling around them. Nico wasn't sure whether Will was crazy or he just wanted to make sure Nico didn't run away. "It's an honour to meet you."

"What."

His voice was low, confused and toneless. Will smiled at him.

"My dad and your dad do a lot of collab jobs," he blabbered, "and I'm always hearing about the 'genius little Ghost King who practically owns the ME rooms' from him. Always promised to introduce me one day." Will chuckled. "Now he doesn't have to. Fancy you being on my flight."

Nico's brain was churning mush and he couldn't form a coherent thought. Will's flight? Promised meeting?

"Ghost King?"

Will nodded wisely.

"Says that's what he calls you."

There was only one person he knew who called him Ghost King.

Nico looked at Will and wondered how he'd missed it. He'd practically acknowledged it already by comparing the beautiful boy to the modern painting of the Greek god Apollo.

"Your dad's Frederick Apollo," he said dumbly. Will nodded.

"Mmhm," he agreed, starting to swing their conjoined hands. "He likes talking about you a lot, you know."

"I don't even want to know," Nico replied, smiling slightly. Apollo was the only cheery person who entered the office. He and Nico had deduced stiffs together, and once on a donor job, the two of them and Nico's father removed some guy's lungs. Nothing says friendship and fatherly figure bonding like cutting up an OD victim.

"All glowing praise, I assure you," Will smirked. "He said the other night actually that if you decided to go into the living-people business, you'd be a fair rival of his for successful transplants."

Nico blushed and shuffled his feet.

"Man," Will continued, running hand through his hair, "never would have guessed that the grumpy, I-look-fifteen guy with the fluffy black hair sitting behind me was the dead's personal god."

Faces weren't supposed to heat up to the temperature Nico's did. It wasn't normal.

"You can stop anytime," he mumbled. Will laughed.

"Maybe," he said. "I'll stop if you come to lunch with me when we get back."

Nico glanced up at the blue eyes. He couldn't see anything remotely like manipulation or revulsion on Will's face. He seemed a little too genuine to be true.

He was definitely Apollo's kid.

"If the plane ever decides to work," Nico said in lieu of agreeing. Will looked at him.

"Was that a yes?"

Nico nodded shyly.

"Yeah," he replied. "That was a yes."