The next few days passed in a sluggish blur. Nico couldn't really keep his mind still. It kept wandering to the most useless places—Will's laugh that was so much like summer. The way he had looked at him like a person and not something that had crawled from the gutter. The freckles that patterned his cheeks like constellations. And more than anything else, he couldn't help but think of the scrap of paper that Will had given him.
The phone number was currently stuck in the corner of his mirror back in his dingy flat. Nico found his gaze wandering to the piece of paper with a dangerous frequency. Once he had even dialed the number, simply staring at the screen, his heart thudding restlessly in his chest. But he had closed the phone before he had a chance to make a fool of himself. What would he say, anyway? They had barely met. It wasn't like they were friends or anything.
The fact that Will had even given him his phone number nagged at Nico endlessly. The majority of his brain told him he was just being friendly—believe it or not, some people were just genuinely kind. But there was a tiny part of him that whispered he was flirting with you.
Nico pushed this thought away with ferocity every time it crossed his mind. There was simply no way that someone like Will would ever go for someone like Nico. They were almost complete polar opposites, for Christ's sake. Besides, it would be unfair to force anyone to put up with his past and the darkness that lurked inside him.
And anyway, just because Nico was gay, that didn't mean that every guy was. He had learned that the hard way. He had taught himself that it was far better to keep his feelings tucked away where they were in no danger of offending anyone.
So in the end, he crumpled the scrap of paper up in the palm of his hand and threw it away, though he couldn't help but picture Will sitting in his flat somewhere, wondering why Nico hadn't called. He pushed the image away, knowing that he was being ridiculous.
By now November was dwindling to a close. The Christmas season had blossomed in full force, the decorations spreading like wildfire. Glittering lights hung from every surface and it seemed like the air was perpetually tinted with the smell of cinnamon.
Term wasn't scheduled to start until January, but Nico couldn't help but find himself wandering around the campus. He told himself that he simply liked the college environment, but there was a sliver of him that hoped he would run into Will. It was only a sliver of him, but he found it impossible to deny nevertheless. He knew he was being silly—he had thrown away Will's phone number, after all—but that didn't stop him from hoping.
And, believe it or not, his secret silent prayer was answered.
Nico's collar was turned up, trying to fight off the biting cold as he trudged along, carving out his usual path through the campus. There weren't many people out; he suspected that anyone with a grain of sense was staying inside, where it was warm. The cold bit at him, sending icy needles through his exposed skin, making him feel as if his lungs were freezing solid.
He was passing the hospital when a voice carried over to him, almost lost on the wind.
"Nico!"
Nico turned to look over his shoulder, spotting a familiar figure hurrying towards him. He couldn't help but feel his heart lurch in excitement. There was no denying now that he had wanted to see Will again, not now that he was in front of him, a thick scarf wrapped around his neck and mittens on his hands.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here," said Will, his breath forming a misty cloud in front of him.
"Me neither," said Nico, even though that wasn't completely true. "Were you working at the hospital?"
Will nodded, visibly shivering. His cheeks were rosy from the cold, only furthering his gentle-hearted appearance. "It's part of my studies," he explained. "We get to work with actual patients. It's very interesting."
"I can imagine," said Nico, trying to keep the conversation going. He was determined not to screw this up like everything else in his life.
There was a moment of silence in which Will regarded him carefully, as if debating whether he should say something.
"Why didn't you call me?" he said suddenly, the words tumbling out of his mouth. A blush bloomed across his cheeks, and it was obvious that the question had surprised him. "Or text me or…anything."
Nico blinked, taken aback. This whole time he had thought that Will wouldn't notice if he didn't call, but apparently that wasn't quite true.
"Uh…" began Nico lamely, not knowing how to explain.
Will sighed, his breath an opaque cloud suspended between them. "If it's because you didn't want to talk to me, just say so. I don't want to bother you. I can come across as kind of…forward sometimes. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."
Nico's eyes widened in surprise.
"No, it wasn't like that at all," he said quickly. Will's eyes met his, and his expression was one of relief. Nico felt a twist of guilt in his stomach—he had made Will think that he was at fault when it was the other way around. "I just had a lot going on," he lied.
"Oh, alright," said Will, brightening. He paused and rubbed a mitten-clad hand over his neck. "Um…do you want to go to my flat? It's freezing out here."
Nico let the words sink in, processing them each individually before stringing them together.
"Sure," said Nico, a spark of hope flickering to life inside him. Maybe this friendship wasn't doomed after all.
"Really?" said Will, his eyes wide and shining like he had been expecting a different answer.
Nico shrugged and Will smiled.
"It's not too far from here," he said. "Only about a five-minute walk."
They began the trek to his flat, their footsteps echoing dully against the cobblestones. The sky had begun to darken overhead, casting a grayish gloom over the city.
Will glanced at the sky, frowning slightly.
"If we hurry we might be able to beat the rain," he said softly, almost to himself.
They picked up their pace, weaving their way towards a brick apartment building, the architecture very similar to that of the college.
The seconds passed in silence, though it wasn't unbearable or awkward in any way. Nico found himself being soothed by Will's presence.
Will led him into the building just as the clouds split open, the rain streaming down in a steady rhythm.
They stood for a moment in the lobby, staring out the windows to the street beyond. The rain fell in gray sheets, a cacophony of droplets shattering the still quiet.
"Well, it's a good thing we got here when we did," said Will, chuckling.
Nico nodded. He hated being wet almost as much as he hated the cold.
"My flat's just up this way," said Will, motioning to the elevator.
The chime dinged, signaling the arrival of the elevator. They stepped inside, and Nico did his best to keep some space between them. It was difficult. The elevator was small and they stood shoulder to shoulder. Nico could feel the silence stagnating, but his mind had gone blank. Maybe he was imagining it but he could feel the warmth radiating off of Will in slow waves.
Will shifted slightly and their fingers brushed. Nico jumped so violently that he slammed into the side of the elevator. A string of curses passed under his breath.
"You alright?" asked Will, casting him a sidelong glance. His eyes were bright with amusement.
"Uh—yeah," said Nico. He could feel his ears growing warm.
The next minute passed in a silence so thick that that Nico could have cut it with a knife. He decided that this must be the slowest goddamn elevator in the universe.
At long last the elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the space beyond. They had reached the twelfth floor, and a long corridor stretched out on either side.
"My flat's number 42," said Will, still oblivious to Nico's discomfort.
Nico nodded and followed Will down the hall, trying his hardest not to trip. It seemed as if all of his motor skills were failing him. What had happened to before, when they had walked together in comfortable silence? Nico traced it back to the elevator ride. It was almost as if being so close to Will had scrambled his brain cells, leaving him flailing. But that was such a ridiculous thought that Nico swept it away quickly.
They reached the door marked 42 at last. Will fished around in his pocket for a moment before retrieving a bronze key, scuffed with use.
The door swung open and Will stood aside to let Nico in first. Nico stepped inside, curiosity momentarily burning away his awkwardness.
It was a spacious flat, but it was filled to the brim, making it appear smaller. The walls were painted white but covered in posters and artwork and pictures. A fireplace was sunken into one wall, a large window spanning another. Strings of miniature electric paper lanterns crisscrossed the ceiling, casting a warm comfortable glow upon the room. There was a bookshelf crammed with books, and a squashy couch right in front of the fireplace, lined with brightly colored pillows.
"Sorry for the mess," said Will, seemingly gesturing to the apartment as a whole. He put his hands in his pockets, looking at Nico with a sheepish grin. Nico averted his eyes quickly. Will's expression was so genuine it made him shift with unease.
"No, no, it's—really nice," said Nico, stuttering a little. He cleared his throat. "Is it just you living here?"
Will visibly relaxed, as if he had been worried what Nico was going to think of him based on the state of his apartment.
"Oh, I have a roommate," explained Will, pointing to a doorway that probably led to another part of the flat. "He's not here at the moment. He's in Australia for a few months studying abroad."
"Ah," said Nico, more out of a burning need to keep the silence at bay than to express his understanding.
"Make yourself at home," said Will, flashing him one of his dazzling smiles. "Do you want some tea?"
Nico hated tea, but he was reluctant to say so, thinking that he might sound rude. He searched his mind to try and remember if it was the British that took offense to a guest refusing food.
"Sure," said Nico, cursing his mental encyclopedia for failing him.
"Alright!" said Will, shrugging off his coat and scarf as he spoke. He wore a white T-shirt that showed his muscular arms, evenly tanned and speckled with freckles.
Will left through another door that must lead to the kitchen. Nico was left to look around the apartment for a few moments undisturbed. His feet carried him to one wall, where he let his eyes skim over all the pictures taped there. There were pictures of Will with a younger girl that shared his blue eyes and messy blonde hair—his sister maybe? Will, his arm around another guy with flaming red hair, both of them caught laughing. Will, standing at the peak of a mountain somewhere, looking back at the camera, his face crinkled with happiness.
Nico felt a strange pang of loss ripple through him. Here was evidence of a normal life, full of friends and family and careless adventure. A life that was undoubtedly normal for Will, yet completely out of reach for Nico.
A high-pitched whistle snapped Nico out of his thoughts. He quickly stepped away from the wall and plopped down on the couch, trying to look natural.
"Tea's just about ready!" called Will from the other room.
Nico sat back and let his eyes wander idly as Will prepared the tea. He couldn't help but feel strangely at home here in this cluttered apartment, despite the fact that he was terrified of doing something stupid or embarrassing. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with warm air. Outside the rain was relentless, drumming a steady beat against the wide window. Whatever happened, he wouldn't be able to leave until the rain stopped.
"Alright, it's ready," said Will, carrying a tray into the room, laden with a kettle, two teacups and bowl of sugar cubes. In addition, he was wearing a checkered apron, which seemed a little out of place considering that he had only boiled water.
Will set the tray down on the coffee table and sat down beside Nico.
"I wasn't sure how you like your tea, but I'm out of milk, so sugar's all I have," he said, pouring himself a cup and adding two cubes of sugar.
"That's fine," said Nico, a bit too quickly.
Will raised his cup to his lips, blowing across the surface of the drink gently.
"So, American, huh?" he asked, his lips still hovering over the cup.
Nico, who had been intent on pouring the tea, was caught a bit off guard by this sudden question. The kettle nearly slipped, but he managed to set it down before anything disastrous happened.
"What do you mean?" he asked, looking at Will, trying not to feel intimidated by those wide blue eyes.
"Well, your accent's American," said Will. It was a statement. "You from there?"
Nico blinked, and within the space of time it took for the darkness to close in, images flashed through his mind. Images of that night. The burning in his chest as he ran, without a destination, just anywhere away from that street corner. The first of many plane rides, the sky tinged crimson like the asphalt had been.
Nico took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. Small, slender hands. Artists' hands. He willed his voice to be steady. The last thing he wanted was for Will to get dragged down in his dark past with him.
"Yes," he said slowly, meeting Will's eyes again. "I lived there for my whole life, but my parents were both Italian immigrants."
"So what brought you to London?" asked Will, taking a sip of his tea. "Adventure?"
"Something like that," said Nico quietly.
"I've always wanted to go to America," said Will, sitting back against the couch and looking thoughtful. "What's the Land of the Free like, anyway?"
Even though Nico hadn't been there in two years, he could still recall every detail of his past life easily, as if he had been there yesterday.
"It's…loud," he began. "And Americans are quite obnoxiously American, if you know what I mean."
Will laughed. "Alright then."
Nico shifted in his seat a little, the words coming smoother now. It was easier to talk about something he was familiar with.
"But it's not a bad place to live. I grew up in New York, so that was cool. Lots of places to explore…" He trailed off, for the first time since he had left a twist of homesickness in his stomach.
"Sounds brilliant," said Will, grinning.
"So…you're British?" asked Nico timidly, adding a sugar cube to his tea to avoid looking at Will.
Will glanced down at his tea and faked an expression of embarrassment. "The tea gave it away, didn't it?"
Nico hadn't been expecting an answer like this at all, and it caught him completely off guard. A small chuckle bubbled through him, surprising him even more. When was the last time he had laughed? The feeling felt raw and unnatural in his chest.
"A bit, yeah," said Nico, choking down the laugh.
"I grew up here, in London," said Will, looking pleased with himself. "My dad is British, but my mum is actually from France."
"Oh, cool," said Nico, though this didn't really seem like the right response.
"I always wished that I grew up somewhere else though," continued Will, his gaze a bit far away. "London always seemed so…gray compared to the rest of the world."
Nico glanced back at the window, where the rain was still pelting the glass relentlessly.
"It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't raining all the time," said Nico. He held the teacup in his palms, grateful for the warmth that seeped into his hands. He was still trying to figure out how to consume his tea without actually drinking it—he didn't want to appear rude, but he had always disliked the taste, and besides, it tended to give him a stomachache. He had always preferred coffee.
"So true," said Will, taking another sip of his drink, his eyes sliding back to rest on Nico. Nico felt the weight of Will's eyes on him, like the steady pressure of a hand on his shoulder. It was all he could do to keep from looking away like he always did. "Do you like the rain?" he added.
Nico shook his head, scattering dark hair in his eyes. He pushed it away quickly. "I hate the rain."
Will laughed over his tea, nearly spilling it everywhere. He brought the cup down from his lips and set it down on the table. "Really? You seem like you would."
Nico shrugged, wondering what about him said that he was a rain person.
"Do you like rain?" he asked, after a pause.
Will mirrored his reaction to the same question. "I hate the rain too," he said, his lips quirked upward into a smile.
Coincidence or not, it was at that moment that the rain ceased abruptly, as if a switch had been flipped. Nico was suddenly aware of every sound he made—the rustle of fabric as he moved, each of his breaths. Watery sunlight filtered through the wide window, making Will's hair seem to sparkle.
"Would you look at that," said Will, standing and walking over to the window to peer outside. "The rain stopped!"
Nico, though a strange and unfamiliar part of him yearned to stay, knew that this was his cue to leave. It was probably better this way, to depart before he made a fool of himself or say something he would regret.
"I should get going," he said, setting his cup of tea back on the table and getting to his feet.
"Oh," said Will. Was it Nico's imagination, or did he sound a bit disappointed? "Alright then."
They both walked to the door. Will made it there first and opened the door for him, holding it open.
"This was nice," said Will, his words genuine.
"Yeah," said Nico, trying not to sound as confused as he felt. Usually things like this always ended in unbearable awkwardness resulting from Nico's inability to keep a conversation going. But this had been a pleasant change to that unpleasant trend.
"Um…maybe we could hang out again sometime," said Will, a bit sheepishly. He ran a hand over his forearm, almost absentmindedly.
Nico, one foot already out the door, paused. Whatever he had been expecting, that wasn't it. Nico turned to meet Will's eyes. They were wide an expectant, the color like a tropical coastline.
Nico found his voice after a beat, the words tumbling off his tongue before he had even decided on speaking.
"Sure. I'd like that."
And with that he turned and headed for the elevator, feeling considerably lighter.
Hey guys! Thanks for reading my story so far. This is the first fanfic I've posted in a LONG time, so I'd love reviews! I feel like I've progressed a lot as a writer over the years and I want to do these characters justice. The majority of this story is written, but not completely finished, so I'll be posting a lot of chapters. I've been working on it for about 6 months!
-Sid
