Author's note: Aight everyone. Weelcome. Here is a Solangelo fic to fill your cup ;) (You'll get the pun in a sec). Pls review-I love helpful criticism and unfiltered admiration, of course. Thanks bbs.

Will makes me a coffee every morning. I admitted my preference reluctantly, seeing as it was 3 am in the morning that he managed to weasel it out of me (I have no filter at 3 am in the morning)— and fine, I guess since the secret's out you may as well know too. It's a cappuccino.

Since then, he's brought it to me every morning without fail. Usually, he just has it ready for me when I finally drag myself out of bed in the morning (afternoon?) and he hands it to me with a kiss. Although I might never easily admit it out loud, it's not a bad way to wake up.

When he's busy in the morning at the infirmary, he'll leave the paper cup for me with a Sharpie message on my bedside table. Something like, "Good morning Death Boy!" or, "Wake up faster—you're killing me," or some other death related pun.

The cups of coffee from Will are my favorite things in the morning besides Will himself. Obviously, nothing could really compete with Will and the way that I fit in his arms. He always smells clean and sunny. It's a nice, pleasant (devastating), combination.

This morning, I blink my eyes open and drag myself out of the bed. I slip on a hoodie that I stole from Will's closet and stumble out into the cursed sunlight. Why does it always have to be so bright?

When I come out and walk to the dining pavilion to meet Will, he gives me a smile, but it seems half-hearted. He sort of thrusts the coffee cup into my hand with a simple, "Good morning."

"Is everything alright?" I ask, looking at him up and down. There are slight bags under his eyes, and his blonde hair is messy. If somebody's done something… if something's happened to make him upset… I need to know about it immediately.

"Everything's just fine," he says. He gives me a kiss on the forehead, making my body flush. "I have to go to the infirmary. Stop by later."

The rest of the day passes by pretty normally, and I decide that maybe Will just woke up on the wrong side of the bed today—it happens to everybody.

But over the course of the next two weeks, it gets a little bit worse. He either hands me my coffee without a good morning, or just sets it on the table for me to pick up while he leaves, and then I start to get really worried. He stopped handing them to me in person, and left them for me strictly via the message-style.

And then he stopped writing messages on them.

Did I do something? Is he alright? I want to ask him what's going on, but he's full on avoiding me now.

"Is something going—" I started to inquire, but he cut me off with one of his seemingly care-free grins.

"I have to go, Neeks. I'll see you later."

I'll be honest, once I was absolutely sure that he was avoiding me, I started to spend most of my days in the Hades cabin. Sometimes Jason would join me, or one of my other friends. Even though it was pretty obvious that Jason sent most of them over to check on me.

Like Leo. He walks in right now, looking unsure.

"Hey, Nico," he greets awkwardly. "Mind if I come in?" I'm laying on my bed, staring desolately at the ceiling.

"Whatever."

"Nice to see you, too."

"Did Jason send you?" I ask. This question is met by a long pause.

"I don't really think that's relevant—"

"Did he?"

"Yeah, okay. You caught me—Jason told me to get over here," he admits, taking a seat on the couch. I grunt.

"You don't have to be here. I'm fine."

"Did you and Will have a fight?" Leo asks, ignoring what I said.

"No."

"You both seem pretty upset."

"It's not really your business, is it?" I retort, mortified and ticked that I'm talking to Leo Valdez about my relationship problems.

"Well, we're friends, aren't we?" he asks. I don't answer. "Since I'm your friend, it's kind of my business."

"That's some twisted logic."

"Maybe. But Jason will kill me if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong."

"Okay… but say that there is something wrong. What would that be?" I glance over at him. He looks part uncomfortable and part amused. I roll my eyes and sit up, feeling like it was too much of a therapy session when I was laying down.

"I don't know what's wrong, okay?" I finally say. "He just started getting all distant and ignoring me. He doesn't even give me my coffees anymore…" I mumble, mostly to myself. Leo gives a hum, as if to signify he's listening.

"I think that tomorrow, if it's still a problem, you should bring it up even if you have to corner him to do it. I can help you make a trap if that's what you need," he offers. I stare at him.

"I'll figure it out myself, thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"You can go now."

"You didn't really tell me what the problem is," Leo points out. I give him a pointed look, nodding my head toward the door. He gives a shrug, and leaves with a wink. I go back to lying on my bed. I'll talk to Will tomorrow, I decide.

I go about the rest of the day thinking of how I'll manage to get him to talk to me. I only glimpse him today, and he looks more upset than before.

The next morning, I don't get any coffee at all. This was when I started to panic. Will's never missed a day. This must mean something along the lines of him breaking up with me. He doesn't like me anymore. How am I going to handle it? I probably won't be able to.

I walk to the Big House to get some tea. For Will. Maybe I can try to win him over—a last attempt to save us. And I realize that I've never brought him a drink in the morning. It's just something that Will gives me.

I clumsily prepare some green tea for him, just in a paper cup like he usually makes for me. I stand there, staring at the steam rising from the hot water, thinking about how Will might break up with me.

Surely he will, won't he? He's been avoiding me, he looks unhappy… those seem like obvious signs that he's tired of me.

But even though I'll be heartbroken if he breaks up with me, maybe he'll be happier without me, and Will's happiness is the most important thing. So if he wants me gone, then I will reluctantly go.

I pick up the cup of tea and make my way to the infirmary. He's there, tending to some camper who looks to have broken something. His neck, maybe. Will's back is to me, so with a pile of nerves building up, I clear my throat.

Will turns around, still looking at his clipboard. I wait impatiently for him to realize who's standing there. His hopefully-not-future-ex.

When he sees me, his eyes go a little wide but then he plasters on a smile.

"Hey, Death Boy," he greets. I can't say that I smiled back. I'm too worried.

"Could we talk in private for a minute?" I request. Will's face falls.

"Oh gods," he mutters, setting the clipboard on the table and running his hands through his blond hair. "I knew it was coming."

"What?" I ask, confused. Will grabs my arm and drags me down a hallway into a dark closet.

"I can take it," he says into the darkness. I can feel his breath on my face.

"Will," I state. "Why in Hades name are we in a closet? What did you think I was going to say to you?"

"You're… aren't you breaking up with me?" He asks, sounding small.

"I thought you were going to break up with me," I whisper harshly. Softening my voice, I continue: "Are you?"

"No! No way, Nico. I just assumed… well, you didn't even notice when I brought you coffee, and you stopped visiting me in the infirmary—"

"I stopped visiting because you seemed like you didn't want me there!" I reply.

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you stopped bringing me coffees, and you always looked sad, and you've been avoiding me," I list.

"Coffees?" I really wish I could see Will's face, but I can only see the outline because of the lack of light.

"Yes. The coffees. They're my favorite thing in the morning," I tell him quietly.

"They are? It seemed like you didn't even notice," Will says. Our knees are knocking together in the small space, and it's making my face flush as well as letting thousands of butterflies loose in my stomach so that I'm seriously aware of how much his presence affects me.

"Will, you're practically the only reason I wake up in the morning," I admit painfully. A long silence follows.

"Well. I have two things to say to that," he replies. "One: that's incredibly sweet, but also worrying. You don't want to wake up for anything else?"

"That's not exactly what I—"

"Secondly, you're sure very, very sure you're not breaking up with me?" His voice cracks and I slide down the wall a little. His clean scent is invading my senses—overwhelming my senses. This is an important conversation, doesn't he know I need to focus?

"I'm positive," I tell him, a bit annoyed. "Are you sure you're not breaking up with me?"

"Yes," Will says, laughing. I allow a small smile on my face, accompanied by a small laugh. "I'm glad we cleared that up," he adds, still laughing.

He leans forward (and down) to plant a kiss on my lips, but I'm still holding the open-topped cup of hot tea and it bumps in-between us and spills all across our feet.

"That was tea that I brought for you," I say against the soft, smiling press of his lips, the tea sinking through my tennis shores and making my socks wet. Will laughs again, removes the cups from my hand and pulls me even closer to him so that his arms are around my waist.

"You can just make me another one," he jokes.

"Can I do it later?" I ask.

"What? Are you not in a rush?"

"I have some time," I respond.

"Well isn't that lucky, I have a few minutes myself. Take a walk with me?"

"But it's so bright outside."

He doesn't respond, but runs his hands through my hair and kisses me. I kiss back shyly, because I still feel like I'm bad at the whole kissing thing. But I love kissing Will, because I think he's amazing at it.

"What are you thinking about?" Will asks me, still holding me close.

"Nothing," I mutter, embarrassed.

"Are you thinking about how much you love me?" He taunts.

"Shut up, Will," I grumble, thankful that the dark is concealing my likely prominent blush. Will laughs and kisses me again.

"I love you too, Death Boy."