Nico's brown eyes are caught in the yellow glow of the light overhead. Will's fingernail is sliding in the groove of a cut marked into the plastic wooden table, trying to look nonchalant as Nico laughs at his shitty quips. He's trying, desperately, to hold in his own laughter, because that's lame, you shouldn't laugh at your own jokes, tucking his face away, biting his cheek. It's a mission doomed to fail; he can't hold it in any longer and lets it out – and god, it feels good to have the sound in his mouth, in the air, shared.
A pale hand comes over his own. It's a point of contact that sends his heart a beat too fast, but he holds steady. Nico didn't initiate touch very often, and the months they'd been in a relationship had been a process of learning his boundaries, even as they changed and fluctuated. His thumb is gently stroking the back of Will's hand, and he might as well as sunk into the ground and melted on the spot.
Nico keeps talking in between bites of fries and small sips of his drinks – his renewed interested in Mythomagic, a new TV series that was incredibly inaccurate in their portrayal of pirates, but the actors were good – and kind of hot – so it got a pass, the new arcade that he wanted to check out. He stops suddenly. Gives Will a curious look.
"What's with that goofy smile, Solace?"
"Just admiring you."
Nico scoffs, though the tips of his ears turn a little red. "Have you been listening to me?"
Will puts a hand over his heart, the one that was not currently being held by Nico because there is no way he's messing that up. "I am," he says, "Every word. I love –" he swallows. He's not there yet. "I love hearing you talk. You could talk about some underground death cult and I would hang on every word."
"We'll see if you'll keep that attitude in the future, Solace."
"You see a future with me?"
Nico rolls his eyes, though it's obvious that he wished he would've chosen a better choice of words. "Maybe. Depends on how annoying you're going to be."
"Me? Annoying? Impossible, I'm adorable."
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."
"Are you implying I'm not?"
"Sorry," Nico grins. "Don't like implying things, I meant to say that you are so not adorable."
"How about hot?"
"You wish."
"Dashingly handsome."
"No."
"Well I must be something."
Nico pauses. He lifts his hand away from Will's (Will inwardly groans at the loss) and he pretends to do a few calculations in the air, tracing the outline of Will's face. Then he nods, as if satisfied with his results. "Mildly attractive in the right lighting."
"Mildly?" Will grumbles.
Nico doesn't laugh, not exactly, just lets out an amused exhale of air. "What about me? Lay it on me honestly, Solace."
"Pretty. Handsome." Will says without hesitation. "Whatever term you prefer."
Nico raises his eyebrows. "That was quick. But uh, thank you." He mumbles, before stuffing his face with the last of his fries and probably wishing his blush wasn't betraying him.
They finish eating. It's a short walk from the local restaurant to Nico's house. At his door, he leaves a decidedly chaste kiss on his lips. Brief, sweet. "Goodnight," Nico says, lingering for a moment. "Text me when you're home. Just –" Will thinks he's going to say something else, but he seems to decide against it. "Thank you. It was nice." and gently, he closes the door.
Will lets out a long breath. "Love you, Nico." He says softly to no one but himself, before heading home.