Summary: The thing about being a boy and liking another boy is: it's not supposed to happen. — Perico, Valdangelo.
A/N: Writing is hard and there are always stories to be told, but sometimes I don't think I was meant to be the author. Does that make sense? Anyway. Enjoy.
A Well-Known Fact About Feelings
The first sign that something is wrong with this—with him—is when Nico looks at Percy's sea-green eyes only to find himself swimming in an ocean filled with waves of foreign emotions and thinks, I want to kiss him.
As in, full-contact, lip-on-lip kissing. Because Percy has the most captivating smile that Nico has ever seen, and he wants to, maybe, feel that very smile against his own mouth, breath hot on his cheeks and down his collarbones, bodies pressed so close to each other that he can feel the vibrations rolling off their skin. He wouldn't be opposed to interlocking his fingers between Percy's either, palm against palm, or running his hands through the son of Poseidon's dark hair.
Except he can't. He's a boy and Percy is a boy and the thing about being a boy and liking another boy is: it's not supposed to happen. It's not right.
So, Nico keeps his hands to himself and his lips pressed together in a thin line and the fear of being found out, of being labelled as gay, translates into anger because he isn't allowed to touch, to want, and Percy already has someone else to kiss, anyway. Percy has Annabeth and Nico has only ever wanted the things he couldn't have.
Cabin 13 is dark and gloomy and that's where he stays most of the time. It's lonely being isolated for so long but it's a choice he makes all the same; somehow, the familiarity of being alone is still more appealing than having to be on guard at all times and pretending that he's okay, everything's okay, when it's—not. It's really not.
He buries his head in his pillow and all his feelings come out as tears, with misery covering over his body like a blanket and sadness weighing down his body, sinking him deeper into the bed. Once the tears subside, he's left with an emptiness in his soul, a void so deep that if he reaches within himself, there will be nothing there except the knowledge that he shouldn't be like this. That he was born with a mistake woven in between his genes.
Other times, he leaves Camp Half-Blood and wanders outside in hopes of finding… something. He doesn't know exactly what he's looking for—a part of him he feels he's lost over the years, perhaps, or maybe just somewhere to call home—but he never stops searching. A surprising part of him still holds onto hope while the rest of him doesn't even know why he bothers. It's all so foolish.
And he won't want to think about it, but it always comes back to Percy. Kind eyes and tousled hair and a friend, Nico has to remind himself, just a friend. He crumples up his feelings, little glass stars strung around a broken heart, and vows to never let anyone know about his secret.
After all, you aren't supposed to want to kiss your friends.
.
The first sign that makes him realize that this might be a permanent thing is when Nico finally gets over Percy and finds himself wanting to kiss yet another boy.
Leo Valdez is loud and full of smiles and kind of obnoxious a lot of the time, but there's a sadness there that Nico recognizes because he's seen it so often in himself. Comparatively, the two of them don't have much in common. Even so, Nico just thinks that somehow, Leo gets it. Really, truly gets it.
And the thing about loving Leo is: it creeps up on him when he least expects it.
When he finds himself spending more and more time in the confined space of Bunker 9, just being in the presence of Leo as he tinkers away at some new invention he's working on, too preoccupied to even notice that someone else is in the room with him, Nico doesn't even realize how far he's fallen.
Leo is life in the places Nico isn't and they're both jagged pieces that don't really fit properly. If he looks closely enough, Nico swears that he can see bursts of firecrackers shimmering just underneath the surface of Leo's skin, as if the brightest parts of him are tucked away and locked up. It's odd but it only manages to draw him closer; Nico is a moth amidst a darkened world and Leo is the light, so it's natural that he'd gravitate the source.
There are times when Leo will tell a joke followed by a nervous laugh, a laugh that sounds entirely too tired and forced, to hide the pain that's splitting him open inside, and Nico thinks he understands, thinks that he knows what it's like to resort to humiliating yourself on purpose instead of letting someone else do it for you, and he has to stop himself from reaching out and leaning forward, forward—
—and, oh shit. Not again. He isn't supposed to fall in love like this again.
So he runs away. For days, weeks, months, he runs and retreats within himself like how he's always coped.
What he doesn't expect this time, though, is just how much he misses Leo. The easy conversation that takes place between them when talking to anyone else would be too much, the friendly teasing and late-night confessions when they're both feeling a little too consumed by dark thoughts. They had found each other in unlikely circumstances and Nico's heart aches with all the moments he misses: the smiles; the laughter; the feeling of pure, pure happiness that he hasn't experienced in far too long.
When he finds himself back in the fully transformed workshop of Bunker 9, it's not surprising, really. As long as he stays in the shadows without Leo realizing that he's there, watching the mechanic longingly in a way that he, himself, doesn't entirely understand, it'll be fine. He'll allow himself that much.
Of course, it doesn't work out as planned. Leo chooses to turn around at that moment for whatever reason and he blinks up at him, then rubs his eyes as if to make sure that Nico is actually there. They stare at each other in silence for a moment, neither of them knowing how to react. Nico wonders what's going through the son of Hephaestus' mind, whether he's looking at him and thinking, coward.
"I didn't think you'd be coming back anymore," Leo says quietly, something unreadable in his expression.
And Nico hears the words he's too afraid to say aloud: I thought you had given up—on me.
"I didn't plan on coming back," Nico admits. He takes a step forward, wanting to reach out but not knowing how. Under the glow of the dim light, Leo looks beautiful. Beautiful things don't belong with Nico.
"Couldn't stay away from me for too long, di Angelo?" Leo retorts, and while the words are playful, his tone is solemn, soft and scared of chasing the other boy away again. Maybe even a little hopeful.
"Yeah, I—" think I might be in love with you. He swallows. "—was just leaving."
Nico turns to walk away but Leo grabs on to his arm and the next thing he registers is pressure on his lips, sparks igniting as Leo's pyrokinetic ability flares up for a second. He leans into it, eyelids fluttering shut and head spinning as Leo pulls them closer. In his chest, his heart pounds in nervousness and excitement, and this—this is all he's ever wanted.
Breaking away, he whispers, "You're not supposed to kiss your friends." Even to him, the excuse sounds weak now.
Leo just laughs softly and presses his forehead against Nico's, eyes twinkling in the same way whenever he comes up with something mischievous, and says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "Then maybe we can be more than friends. What do you say?"
.
.
.
The thing about being a person and liking another person is: there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.
A/N: At first this was just going to focus on the Perico aspect but of course I had to squeeze some Valdangelo in there because otherwise, who would I be?
