i'm not afraid, i'm terrified
A/N: I was like you know what I'm sitting down writing a fic bc I haven't done that IN YEARS and I need something do to so like there is literally no basis to this fic but maybe there's a plot um it's set like 2-3 after the war and Nico's been traveling the world making friends with all the camps basically and triggers: um drug use, self-harm, violence, abusive relationships, implications of rape and racist and homophobic language (all use as a reclaiming sense) and the title is from song 101 Vultures by Alex Winston which is really good and a total rec and u should listen to it as you read this fic
Malcolm's favorite part of Camp Half Blood will always be its vicinity to New York City.
There is nothing better than watching Drew charmspeak some worker at the fifth avenue Nordstrom to treat her like a star.
And seeing Lacy pray in St. Patrick's chapel, looking so peaceful as she lit a candle to St. Valentine.
Even seeing Lou Ellen and Mitchell goof off in Times Square was a sight that reminded him of home.
But for some reason seeing Miranda and Kayla kiss under the tinkling marquees of Broadway filled him up with a sense of darkness.
"It's called that feel when no gf." Nico told him on one of his and Malcolm's secluded nights together, where they go to find a lonely dive or bar and drunk as hell.
"I'm gay." Malcolm retorted as he took a sip of his beer.
"So am I but even when I see a straight couple, I get hit, man." He punched himself in the chest, right above his heart.
"You're ridiculous."
"I'm drunk." He hiccupped into his fist.
"And you are obviously not, or this would be making sense."
Malcolm eyed him. This skinny boy of 15,skin and bones, the alcohol bringing back the golden tint in his skin, and that fucked up psycho grin only reserved for Hazel, Malcolm, and those who find him high as fuck.
"How many pills did you pop when I was in the bathroom?" He asked, watching carefully as the question made the younger demigod blush.
It's funny. Malcolm's been doing a lot of that these days.
Watching.
Never doing.
"One. Two. Threeeeee…Five." Nico grinned.
"But don't tell Hazel. She thinks I have back pain or some shit."
Hearing Nico cuss will always take him by surprise.
The kid usually the quietest, most polite person Malcolm knows. His sister too.
But pop a few pills in him and the kid throws all caution to the wind.
"Hazel worries too much about me. She wants to be the caretaker. I can see that something in her heart breaks every time I come home, high or drunk or just fucked up. She's so young, you know. After the war, it was like all out hearts got stronger but hers got weaker. I just keep waiting for her to crack; it's like waiting for the death of innocence."
Nico looked wistfully in his empty glass and Malcolm decided it was time to go home.
"Come on Nico," Malcolm slapped a $20 bill on the bar; making Nico jump, "Let's go."
Once they were back outside, Nico started talking again.
"Why does your voice do the thing sometimes?"
"What thing?"
"That thing. Sometimes you say 'ting'? Like the fuck kinda accent is that?"
"I'm Russian?"
"It's sorta hot."
Malcolm made a noncommittal noise and in a split second Nico had him backed up against a wall.
He could feel the cool wet from the afternoon's showers and the winter cold and Nico's warm body pushing into him.
"Damn it, Nico."
"I actually find it hot." Nico said into the juncture of Malcolm's shoulder and neck.
Malcolm is a good 3-4 inches taller than Nico, but Nico has muscle and was pressing in the right places.
"Never fucked a guy with an accent before?" Malcolm's voice went hoarse and he blamed it on the cold weather.
Or on the GHB he had earlier in the night.
But not on Nico's body.
"Are you offering?" Nico's lips quipped up.
"You wish." Malcolm pushed Nico off him and laughed.
"You drank too much." He added. "Your dick won't even work."
Nico stuck his hands in his aviator jacket's pockets and made a noise between a whine and a moan.
"But in the honor of another day without being killed," Malcolm stepped closer to Nico. "The way you hair looks, which is like really good,' One step closer. "And the death of innocence." Their lips were inches apart now. "I will kiss you."
Malcolm pressed his lips to Nico's and his hands went straight to the teen's back, to pull him closer. Because God was Malcolm deprived.
(And if it ended up in a heated make out session in the alleyway of the bar and the local theater nobody needed to know that.)
"People who go to bed early always complain that the night is too short, but for those of us who stay up all night, it can feel as long as a lifetime"- Banana Yoshimato
Malcolm came back to his cabin exhausted.
Nico had shadow traveled back to who-knows-where after their impromptu make out session, his psycho grin still playing at his lips.
And Malcolm was forced to take the 11:15 bus back to the Sound all by himself.
That bastard.
Sure a cute-would-totally-fuck-if-I-wasn't-reeling-from-some-emotional-shit-and-you-weren't-15 bastard.
But a bastard all in all.
The harpies had side eyed him for coming back to camp so late but Malcolm was 17 now, this scent was fading and if he wanted to risk is life, that was his choice.
He was looking forward to just flopping on his bunk and falling into an alcohol induced coma.
But Drew had other ideas.
"How was your night with Nico?" Drew asked as he switched on the light above his bunk.
She was sitting on his mattress, legs crossed, in one of his old Hemlock Grove t-shirts; her long black hair was half in a bun, half in a ponytail.
She scared him shitless.
"OH MY FUCKING GODS! Drew, what the hell?!"
"Sssh," Her voice dropped to a hushed tone. "Don't wake up the entire camp!"
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"I had a nightmare."
Malcolm sighed and climbed into the bunk with her, taking off his shoes and jacket.
"Ugh." Drew assessed his ensemble. "You really went out like that?"
"Shut up and tell me this horrible dream."
She shifted so that her head was in his lap and Malcolm began to play with her hair.
"There was so much blood, Malcolm. And I didn't know whose blood it was. It seemed like a mix of the Gods, and our blood. But also the blood of other demigods. Ones I couldn't place. There were the Romans, Egyptians in Brooklyn, the Africans in Tunisia, and the Vikings in Toronto. But there were others. I felt as if the world was ending."
She stopped talking.
"And?" Malcolm prompted her to go on because there had to be a happy ending.
Because Drew who was turning 18 in a month shouldn't be subjected to this.
But Malcom feared there wasn't.
"And I woke up. Whatever. My scent is fading, it will be completely gone in a few weeks, and the dream probably won't mean anything."
"Let's hope not because I can't take anymore demigods."
She rolled her eyes and sat up.
"So are you going to tell me about your night with Di Angelo?"
"We went to a new place, really nice, sort of shady. But best fries this side of Roosevelt Island, swear to Zeus. And I made out with him."
"You made out with him?"
"I made out with him?"
"Now why the fuck would you do that?"
It's times like this that make Malcolm want to have a nice straight girl friend who would laughed and giggle and say "Aw!" when he talked about boys but instead he gets Drew, who is mean and gay and has never giggles for as long as he has known her.
"Because we were high."
She slapped him upside the head.
"He's fifteen!"
"Not really he is like 85!"
"Malcolm, don't justify taking advantage of a young children!"
"WE WERE HIGH!"
"Not helping your case!"
At that point one of his brothers who he shared the room with groaned.
Malcolm voice dropped to a hushed whisper.
"Anyway it's not like I fucked him."
Drew shit him an incredulous look.
"And it was more he pushed me up a wall and said these hot things about me being hot and HE'S ITALIAN! HIS TOUNGUE ROLLS!"
His brother groaned again.
"I'm disappointed in you, Malcolm. Preying after little boys?"
"He's 85!"
Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter. - Mark Twain
A/N: Queer Gang more like hate Malcolm gang lol. So like in the next chapter you meet everyone and Aw man it feels good to be back you know. Miss this you guys. Especially this little spiel right here. Remember review and what not and also talk to me on tumblr if you want to talk gays and characters and stuff. Remember this word of advice from Drew: "You don't have to be a skinny bitch to act like a skinny bitch"
~Pets "WOW IT'S LIKE 3 IN THE MORNING" AlittleOverWritten23