Okay, so here's the deal. I haven't read the second saga of Percy Jackson . . . Yeah, I'm a disgrace, I know.
Still, a very good friend of mine was being rather insistent about me writing a fanfic with these two. I managed to say "no" for a good month, but the other day I came across "Child of Dead", a song by Gio Navas (which you should really listen to, it's great), and one of the verses is "My heart is twisted", so that had me wondering "was he talking about him plainly or about him being gay?" And then I had a mental image of Will -who I don't know yet beacuse I haven't read those books- talking to him, and I liked it so much I simply had to write it.
So here it is. There are no spoiler alerts, because well, I can't spoil you something I haven't read, right?
Hope you liked it! And something else, once in a while it looks like I'm being kind of . . . harsh on homosexuals, for it to be on record, that's not the case. I'm very fond of them and I think everyone should be free to love whom they choose. I even have some friends that are gay. In fact, the one who asked me for this story, so I'm still sorry if it gives the impression that I do not like them or aren't in favor of equalitary love, know that's not the case (and if it was, why would I bother to write a whole story on a gay pairing?)
Either way, enjoy it! And know that the characters are owned by Rick Riordan!
Chapter One
He Meant It
It was mid-summer, and rather reluctantly, the only Greek demigod of Hades was currently staying at the camp.
He was inside his cabin at that time, not doing anything but stare blankly at the black wall, which he found really ironic.
He also found pathetic how was just sitting there ruminating and pondering over things that had already happened in his life but he couldn't stop himself from thinking.
Like, for example, how he had fallen out of love with Percy some time ago. He really had.
Well, at least he thought so. It wasn't as if he actually knew what love was anyways.
He really believed he'd been in love with Percy.
He thought so because of how good he felt when he was around him, because of how nice and charming he was, because of how his heart shuddered when the son of Poseidon smiled, even if his playful grin wasn't even directed to him.
He thought he'd loved Percy because of how accepted he felt when he was with the son of the sea, because of how nicely he'd always treated him, because of how easy-going Percy was.
But loving someone meant you wanted the best for that person. And he surely as Hell wasn't the best Percy would find. He surely as Hell wasn't the best for anyone, he was aware.
Percy was in love with someone. Someone that just happened to match how perfect Percy was, with her beautiful curly blonde hair and her bright-smiley face.
Percy was in love with Annabeth, and he surely was corresponded by the daughter do Athena.
He knew that. He had no right to step into a relationship when both parts of the couple had never done anything but to be kind to him. He had no right to attempt to split them apart when it was easy to see just how much they loved each other.
And, ultimately, there was no point, because Percy would never love him the way he loved his girlfriend. He stood no chance against that girl, not only because of who the girl was, but mostly because of who he was.
Annabeth was simply perfect for Percy, and Percy was perfect for Annabeth. He just didn't fit in the picture, it was plain and painfully obvious and he knew it.
Plus, there was that other part . . . Percy wasn't gay.
Percy was a perfectly normal guy. Percy was not as defective and faulty as he was. Percy not only loved the one that he was meant to love, but also he felt attracted to the gender he was supposed to feel attracted to.
He just was not. He couldn't help the bitter smile that made its way up to his lips. Of course he was not like that, not like Percy or like any other person he knew. He had to be different. He had to be dissimilar. He had to be wrong. He had to be twisted; twisted in all the damn ways he could be.
Gods, he couldn't just be a freak because he could rise skeletons from the ground; he couldn't just be a freak because he smelt like death (what did that even smell like anyways? He was not even aware of the smell it had, which just happened to be ironic). He couldn't just be a freak because of how skinny and pale he was. Oh, no, gods, no. He had to be a freak also because of that.
It was just wrong. He was just wrong, he was aware. The fates simply couldn't –wouldn't– give him a rest, that was simply out of the table.
There were really nice girls at the camp, sure. Apollo's cabin had charming girls, and so did Aphrodite's or Demeter's or practically each and every cabin –excepting maybe, Ares'–, and in a perfect world he would have been attracted by a girl, just like every other guy was. But in this world, which just happened to be the real one, he was attracted to people of his very same gender. Wonderful, just won-der-ful.
Either way, he had fallen out of love with the amazing, breath-taking Perseus Jackson long time ago.
He was not even sure he had even been in love with him to start with. He just knew something in the son of the sea captured him and made him want to stay by his side almost desperately. He only knew he'd been attracted to him and experienced something so strong when Percy touched him or so much as talked to him, that the older of the two never noticed.
He only knew and he was certain that what he had felt was something powerful, something strong that he'd never felt before, towards anyone. And if that was not love, he certainly didn't know what it was, (which was the reason why he was having these thoughts at the moment to begin with).
But it was over.
It was just pointless and senseless to continue to or to even try to beg for the demigod's love when he knew he stood no chance to gain it. It was just futile to put himself exactly in where he would get hurt when he wanted to avoid that pain. It hurt nevertheless, everything in his fucking life hurt, but he just . . . he just didn't want to risk getting hurt that way anymore, or not any further, for he knew he was not going to win anything but heart-ache, same he already had enough of. It was just worthless, pointless.
Percy didn't see him as anything other than a close friend, a younger brother, he himself had said that to Nico once or twice.
It had taken time for him to be okay with that thought, to not feel his throat thickening or the capacity to breathe leaving his body when r heard that Percy only viewed him as a sibling, but he was now. He finally was fine with it.
He had managed to convince himself to look at Percy as an older brother too, as someone he could trust and cling to, as someone he could ask for help if he needed it, as someone that accepted him for who he was.
He trusted Percy, he really did. If there was someone he could rely on that sure was Percy Jackson; after everything they'd been through, after the many times that the son of the Sea had proven himself to him to continue disbelieving him would have been too much, even for the son of Hades. Still, not even Percy knew. Not even Percy knew that.
He hadn't told him. How could he? How could he fucking do it?
He didn't want to recognize it, didn't want to accept it, even if it was just to himself, but it scared him.
He was scared. Better yet, he was terrified. Terrified of telling him, terrified of speaking the words aloud, terrified of the disgusted look that would surely be present in those sea-green eyes, terrified of Percy seeing just how much of a freak he really was, terrified of a rejection, terrified of losing Percy. He was not even talking about a romantic rejection, but the thought was just as heart-stopping.
He didn't. He didn't want to lose Percy. It didn't matter that he didn't love him like he did, like he had; it didn't matter that Percy had reasons to want to just disembarrass himself from the son of Hades, it didn't matter just how pathetic and needy it sounded, but he didn't want to lose Percy. He just didn't want to.
Sure, Jason knew, but it was different. He wasn't as fond of Jason as he was with Percy, he hadn't known Jason for as long as he had known Percy, he hadn't been in love with the son of Jupiter, and most importantly, he hadn't been the one willing to tell Jason in the first place. It was just different; there was no point of comparison.
Which brought us to the fact that apart Jason and himself, no-one knew that little, dirty secret of his.
No-one knew and better yet, he wouldn't allow anyone to know.
It just . . . It was just wrong.
Being gay, really? Did he really have to be gay? But it was just obvious. It was just obvious. He had to be. He sure had to be homosexual. He had to be because everything in his fucking life was twisted, he had to be because he was wrong, defective, faulty and ultimately, twisted.
He didn't even want to know what would happen if his father so much as heard a rumor of him being homosexual. He, Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, the Ghost King, gay?
He sighed tiredly.
That couldn't happen. He couldn't let that happen. If his father heard notice . . . Hades would probably kill him and create a brand new place in Tartarus for him to pass eternity in. He had to keep it secret.
It was . . . It was just the sanest thing, the safest. It was the best also. For him, and maybe for others too, to not let them know how wrong their comrade –if he even deserved the name– was, how demented and how wrenched he really was.
He knew things had changed. Homosexuality wasn't viewed as something that wrong now. Homosexuals weren't killed as they had been back to World War II. They weren't considered a plague. In fact, homosexuality was something pretty much accepted in the US; most states actually permitted homosexuals to get married and even to adopt children–not that he was interested in so for the time being, but if the moment ever came . . . In the name of Zeus, what was he thinking?
He raised both of his hands and gripped his temples, slowly drawing circles with his thin fingers. He grimaced, feeling the beginning of a headache already starting to throb in his bonce.
That thought was just stupid, senseless. Him? A family, a lover? Children?
No . . . That was just . . . just . . . impossible. He wouldn't get that . . . Never. He . . . he knew. That was not happening.
For someone to fall in love with him? No. Period. Death point. He didn't deserve it. For him to just get the bare acceptance of someone was more than enough, more than he could expect. And he was fine with it, he really was.
He'd come to accept that thought, that fact. He'd come to familiarize himself with the knowledge of him being rejected, different, dissimilar. No, he really was fine with it.
But . . . once in a while, even if it wasn't conscious, even if it wasn't something he wanted to think about he would find himself wondering –wondering because it was all he could even dream of getting– what . . . what did it feel like, to have someone that you'd be certain to love, and that loved you back, someone that would hold you close, with no fear of . . .
«Stop!» he told to himself, almost desperately. He had to stop. It was pointless. It was just so fucking pointless!
He couldn't think of that. He couldn't allow himself to think about something like that. It was . . . It was just senseless, pointless, worthless . . .
He was not going to get something like that, he couldn't even expect it. It was . . . It was impossible, for saying the least. Impossible. That was not happening to him.
He sighed once again, this time more tiredly than before.
He distantly heard the well-known sound of a seashell that called all the demigods at Camp Half-Blood for dinner.
He grunted throaty, unwilling to walk outside, unwitting to feel the anything-but discreet stares the other demigods would give him.
He wasn't even hungry, he thought, and even he couldn't help but notice with sarcasm how he had just complained about his pale skin and low weight and was now opposing to go outside, where the shinning sun and warm food would be waiting for him.
He sure didn't want to leave his cabin, only place where he was alone and he felt slightly safe, even when his whole plans for the night would be to ruminate about how pathetic and miserable his life was.
He didn't want that either. Didn't want to stay there in his miserable corner alone with his thoughts. It was simply pathetic.
He grunted in distaste as he slowly, almost reluctantly, forced himself up the mattress and walked to the black door, sighing almost negligibly before he pulled it open, blinking owlishly at the bright sunshine that immediately filled the room.
He really was tempted to just close the damn door again and stay inside, where the light wasn't so fucking shiny, but he forced himself outside instead.
The son of Hades closed the door behind him, his gaze fixed upon his black shoes as he started walking to the tables, ignoring everyone else and kicking violently the unfortunate rocks that so much as happened to be in his way.
That was until he approached Cabin 7.
He heard the door being violently pulled open and then hurried steps, but don't pay attention to it until he hated how name being called.
"Hey, Nico!" Someone said. Oh, damn. He knew that sweet, cheaply voice. Solace. "Nico, wait!"
He stopped walking, obeying the Apollo's demigod and not even bothering to rise his gaze or to turn to him, just waiting for the demigod to have something important to say and to say it fast.
"Gods, I thought you hadn't heard me" Will said casually as soon as he was standing next to him.
"Would've liked to" he muttered quietly and much to his surprise, he heard the son of Apollo chuckling. He had a sweet, cheery laugh.
"Fine, fine, I get it" he said and Nico could easily tell he was trying to keep the smile of his lips. He grunted in response. "You don't want to see me."
"Well, Solace" he muttered "if you already know that I still don't get why is it that you called me."
"If you stopped complaining I would get to that point" the son of Apollo replied, and when the younger didn't answer anything he continued. "I have something you might want to take a look at. So if you could cooperate a little and followed me to my cabin . . ." he suggested coolly, earning a distrusting glance from his interlocutor. "C'mon Nico" he said, smiling slightly at him, his appearance the one of complete calmness "Don't look at me like that, I'm not trying to hurt you."
Slowly, rather with the mannerisms of someone who was forced to he derogated from the path he was following down to the pavilion and retraced his steps, with the son of Apollo silently smiling by his side.
When they finally made it to the golden cabin, he sent a mistrusting glance to the door.
"Oh, gods, just come in!" Will shouted from the inside, noticing how his companion had stayed by the door. "It's not like I'm gonna kidnap you or something." That said, Nico grunted in response, but walked inside either way to find the son of Apollo standing in front of a big, wooden desk and smiling openly to him.
"So" Will started slowly "I've noticed how you seem to always have these visible bags under your eyes and–"
"And you made me come here to criticize my physical appearance?" Nico interrupted scornfully.
"No, not really" he replied calmly. "So, as I was saying, you have these rather dark bags under your eyes and they always happen to make you look tired, so I was thinking that you could–"
"I don't need you telling be that I look like shit, alright?" He muttered sternly.
"Hey, Nico, calm down" he said simply, not doing so much as rising one of his blonde brows in something that could be either concern or surprise, but his voice was only soothing, anything but judgmental, anything but what Nico expected. "We don't want skeletons rising from the ground, right?" He teased, his tone holding a note of humor, but none of taunt. "Just breathe. In, out. In, out" he added, noting how fast the young demigod's chest seemed to be going.
"I know how to fucking breathe!" He retorted harshly.
"Sorry then" Will answered, not sounding sorry but rather . . . concerned. "And watch your language."
"Why the heck would I–?" But he was cut off suddenly when he raised his eyes to meet the concerned yet commanding stare of the sun of Apollo.
"Just because it does not, in any form, sounds nice to have you swearing around like some kind of gangster." He explained matter-of-factly. "And" he continued "I would also appreciate it if you managed to remain silent enough for me to finish my sentence."
Nico dedicated him a dismissive look, same Will ignored completely, while he turned around and walked over to the desk which was placed in front of a huge window that somehow always seemed to be facing the sun and which multiples artifacts over it made it look like a mad scientist's work-table.
"I was saying that you could use a little bit more of the sleep you seem to be losing" he moved some containers until he came across the one he was looking for: a long, thin, glass bottle that held some white, oval, long pills, same he gripped in his right hand and then offered to Nico once he was facing him again.
The son of Hades looked at him dubiously, not reaching for the pills.
"Solace, I'm pretty sure I do not need any–" but he was soon interrupted by the melodic voice of the older half-blood.
"Oh, gods, would you stop calling me by the last-name, it's just annoying!" He said, oblivious to the resentful glance the son of Hades sent him, opting for smiling openly at him instead.
"Well, Solace, probably I'm simply annoying then" The son of Hades retorted utterly deadpan.
"No, not you" the son of Apollo replied simply moving his hands in a gesture that aimed to discard that possibility. "Just the last-name thing. I mean, you wouldn't want me calling you 'di Angelo' each time I came around you, would you?"
"It's my name" he answered, completely matter-of-factly. "I don't care what you call me." He replied, which just happened to be true.
"Yeah, it sure is your name" Will accepted "But it's your last-name not your actual name, to be called by it is, well, it is impersonal and . . . It's just weird!" He concluded, rising both of his hands to emphasize his words.
Nico grunted in response, which didn't seem to be appreciated by the sun of Apollo. Finally, he spoke again, his voice hoarse and not very kind.
"So what does this magic pills have? A fucking spell?" He wondered sarcastically.
"Language, Nico!" He repeated, ignoring his question and using a tone that almost reminded of a teacher's. "It's not that hard!" His only answer was a throaty growl and then he added. "A good magician never reveals his secrets, right?" He said, smiling brightly at the son of Hades, which only earned her a dubious look from him.
"Thought you were a doctor?" He inquired deadpan. "Leave the magician thing for the Hecate cabin."
Will chuckled, the sound of his laugh a melodious and cheerful one. Nico almost snorted at the thought. Of course, he was the son of the god of music after all.
"Well, well, then I'll have to say that 'a good doctor never reveals his secrets' I guess" he smiled, the corners of his lips twitching in a playful grin. "And you were the one that started talking about spells in first place"
Still, he only got a sever look from the son of Hades.
"It's okay" he said, his expression changing to a warmer one, even when he kept that playful gleam in his sky-blue eyes. "I'm a medic here, I'm not trying to kill you."
Nico looked at him distrustful manner, his dark-browns orbs piercing him with his strong gaze.
"Hey, Nico, I've healed a few wounds of yours by now, I think you can trust me not to get you killed, right?" He offered, smiling at him warmly, his right hand placed neatly in his hip, while his left one offered him a tiny jar filled with oval pills.
Well, that much was true. He'd been unconscious, bad-injured and half-way to death in the presence of the son of Apollo, who'd been kind and attentive enough to restore him his health, which wouldn't be viewed as such by others, given that he was not the best-looking person.
He grunted, slowly rising his right hand to grip the container, still sending glances, first to the son of Apollo and then to the medicine until he finally placed the transparent container in his right pocket.
"Nico, if you don't mind me asking" Will said suddenly, his tone much more serious than what it had been until then "Why is it that you are sleeping so little?" he wondered worriedly, noting more than ever how dark his eye bags were now that the son of Hades was so close.
He had a point. What kept him from sleeping? Nightmares. Nightmares did. And his own thoughts and musings, but that was not something that the son of Apollo would be interested in.
"Nothing" he muttered sternly, denying slowly by moving his head to the sides.
"Well, that's not what it seems" the son of Apollo pointed out.
He almost snorted in disgust. "Then what does it look like, Solace?"
"Like something is keeping you up" he replied steadfastly.
"And what if it is?" Nico retorted, fed up with what he considered to be just a lame act of pity.
"Then you should probably get rid of it in favor of you sleeping more" he answered calmly.
He grunted ill-temperedly. "Maybe I can't." he said sharply, making Will's cerulean eyes shine with something that seemed concern.
They remained in silence for a moment, Will's eyes open and honest while Nico nearly pierced him with his deadpanned stare.
Finally, the son of Hades denied by moving his head slowly to the sides, breaking the eye-contact and turning his dark orbs to the floor again.
"If that's all you wanted, Solace" he said seriously, "I'm leaving."
That said, he directed himself to the door awkwardly, not very sure about how to proceed.
Even so, he was just starting to raise his hand to grip the iron knob when he heard the fast movements of the son of Apollo behind him and Will was soon gripping his left wrist, enabling him to go any further.
"Hey" he said, with a voice that suddenly wasn't as confident and sounded rather nervous. "Can you–? I need to–"
Slowly, the son of Hades turned to face the son of Apollo, his dark brows rising in confusion.
They looked into one another's eyes, almost without blinking. The son of Hades let his eyes wander in the demigod´s countenance, vaguely noticing his blonde, tangled hair, his arched brows, his heavy breathing, his beautiful cerulean eyes, his slightly parted lips that were slowly approaching his own, his . . . Wait, what?
The son of Hades' eyes widened in confusion and surprise, his body suddenly frozen, enabling him to jerk away from the other half-blood, that slowly, as if not to scare him, yet surely, bent over, raising his left hand to slightly brush his fingertips against the Ghost King's cheekbone just as their lips meet gently, their kiss being a mere encounter before Nico pulled away by stepping back, swallowing hard, his dark orbs widened in horror and confusion, his brow furrowed and his expression one that was half-way between anger and fear.
"Exactly what in Hera's name do you think you're doing, Solace?" he stormed, almost screaming, his voice bordering panic.
"I– I am–" the son of Apollo sighed heavily, covering his eyes with his left hand. "Listen, I'm– I'm just sorry" he blurted when he had opened his eyes again, an expression of actual regret and nervousness in his features.
"What was that for?" he insisted, stepping back again, enable to bring himself to break the eye-contact with the son of Apollo, who just happened to have blushed to the very same tips of his blonde locks.
Will forced a smile that seemed troubled, his beautiful eyes giving a nervous look to the dark ones of the son of Hades, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Nico frowned, aware of the anxious expression of the other demigod, which looked completely misplaced in Will's face comparing it to his confident smile and sure gaze.
"Are you even planning of answering?" He inquired, his voice holding a note of coldness, his confusion suddenly forgotten.
He took a nervous intake of breath before he talked again. Finally, he clapped his hands together in front of him, absently playing with his fingers and then shuddered.
"Okay, I'll say this once because I think you are intelligent enough to get it, alright?" He started, earning a confused glance from Nico's dark eyes, but not been able to see it, his own orbs fixes in the floor. He sighed slowly, before raising his eyes again self-consciously, meeting Nico's just for a heart-beat before fixing then in the wall next to the son Hades' head. "I–" he doubted "I-think-I-like-you" he blurted out as fast as his tongue allowed him, turning his eyes to the floor just as the last letter escaped his lips.
The son of Hades stepped back once again, raising his arms, his palms extended, his fingers spread out as if trying to protect himself from the leader of Cabin 7.
That declaration was something he didn't expect, he felt the capacity of breathing leaving his chest as he started to take fast intakes of air, his heart's pace fastening with each passing second, making it even harder to listen to his thoughts as the only sound that he could hear suddenly seemed to be his very own heart.
"Listen, Solace" he muttered sharply as he tried to get a hold of himself "If you are playing a fucking prank on me you'd better–"
"No" he interrupted him firmly, his voice disembarrassed from his earlier nervousness while he raised his eyes once more, his expression honest and trusting like always "That's not it, I swear." He paused, suddenly self-conscious again "I– I wouldn't be saying this if it wasn't important and if I wasn't–"
"Drop it" Nico commanded, sending him a dead-panned look, too busy trying to figure out his own inner turmoil for caring about Will's; even so, he couldn't help the note of terror that his cold voice hid.
"No, you have to listen to–"
"No!" he snapped, maddened at the way the other demigod's eyes seemed to be shifting nervously. "You do not–"
"No, Nico" Will interrupted him, his expression leaving the doubt behind and appearing sure of himself and his words again. "I mean what I said."
They stared into the eyes of the other one again, their paces fastened, eyes widened in expectance of what was coming next.
"Don't" Nico snarled suddenly, his tone a menacing one, not even sure about the reason for his anger.
"Why?" the son of Apollo asked with confusion, still, he couldn't help the challenging tone in his voice.
He liked Nico, he really did. He liked his eyes so dark that seemed black but that when you bothered to look closer reveled to be a very obscure shade of brown, his alabaster skin, his dark-curly hair, the way he was always trying to put up the appearance of a cold, distant person albeit keeping a glimpse of emotion in the bottom of his eyes, but so hidden it was hard to realize it. Gods, he even liked the way he seemed to enjoy to use sarcasm and satirize everything, the way his lips twisted in that devious smirk of his. He plainly liked him, and he knew he was aiming high, but he had decided to take his bet and expect a good result.
He'd been thinking of doing this for a while now, thinking of how to just say the words, of ways to express his feelings. Things such as writing poems or songs had been discarded upon the fact that it was unlikely for Nico to appreciate something like that.
In the end the idea that came out as a winner was that one: to just say it. Even though, it didn't seem like he was going anywhere right then, with the anxious look the son of Hades had fixed upon his young features and his own incapacity to say what he thought at the moment.
Really, if Nico would just cooperate somehow, if everything was as easy as in the movies, if he could just wrap his arms around the son of Hades' waist and kiss him chastely, being sure that he would not reject him, knowing that he was corresponded. If Nico would just say how he felt about what he had just said instead of just trying to leave the matter, then everything would be easier.
But then again, if the son of Hades' wasn't a constant challenge then he probably wouldn't have fallen head-first over him.
He was driven away from his musings by Nico's hoarse voice.
"Just do it" he said, not noticing how his voice sounded shaky. "Retract or just forget it. That's not even possible."
"Why not?" Will insisted, this time aware of the own insecurity in the younger's voice.
"Because–" he breathed shakily "Just no! It's simply twisted. I am twisted!" he completed, his eyes falling to the ground, his voice rising until it was an unsteady outcry.
Will fixed his gaze in his smaller form, noticing how small shrieks seemed to be running down his spine. He shuddered with compassion. There, that was what he'd achieved with his words, scaring the son of Hades.
But then another fact made its way slowly to his mind. Nico had said that 'it was twisted' which could mean he was talking about what he had just confessed to him, but he'd immediately added that 'he was twisted', and Will wasn't about what the significance of the words were.
Was he talking about himself plainly? Or was he talking about being homosexual?
Although, chances were that he was the only homosexual in the room.
He was aiming high, not only confessing his love to someone, but to someone of his very same gender, he knew. Still, he had decided that that was the very essence of love, the intrigue about whether if it was corresponded or not. That was why he had just blurted out the words, rather nervous and unceremoniously for a son of the god of poetry.
He sighed, nervously taking a step forward, noticing how the younger demigod tensed. He slowly placed his right hand over Nico's left shoulder gripping it firmly but without going as far as to hurt him when he tried to jerk away from him.
"Nico . . ." he called out softly. "If you are saying this because we are both males–"
"It's wrong, it's just wrenched!" he murmured, his voice covering with desperation.
"No" he assured gently, raising his hand to kindly stroke the boy's left cheek, gripping his chin and forcing him to meet his gaze. "Haven't you heard the myth of Ganymede?" he asked, not waiting for an answer as he continued talking. "One of Zeus' affairs was a guy" he guaranteed confidently, which earned him a surprised look from the son of Hades.
True to tell, Nico wasn't aware of that story, in case it actually existed, but for him it was just the same. If that myth was true and Zeus had been related to a male in that kind of way, he still doubted it would be considered okay or even slightly normal, due to how it was still unnatural for two people of the same gender to be together. And he specially doubted that his father would mind that his own younger brother Zeus had been in a relationship with a guy. Better yet, he was pretty sure that the god of the dead would not appreciate it. Which completely left the only other possible answer to his inner turmoil: he was twisted, he was wrong.
That still wasn't explaining what the son of Apollo had said. He'd said 'I like you' and then he'd assured he really did mean his earlier words. That was just . . . impossible, to say the least.
Will Solace –the shiny, bright, cheerful, brilliant– Will Solace could not, in any way, shape or form be gay. And, even if that was the case –and somehow the thought of him being gay was not as bothering and revolting as the thought of himself being gay was–, he could not feel . . . attracted to him. No, that was not possible. Dead space.
No matter what the son of Apollo said, it was impossible. Im-po-ssi-ble.
"Just the same" he muttered dismissively "I am twiste–"
"No" Will reassured firmly. "You are who you are, and that is nothing to be ashamed about."
Nico's dark eyes widened in surprise. "I'm not–" but his voice broke off when he realized the true that the son of Apollo's words held. He was ashamed. Ashamed of himself, of him being gay, of his physical appearance, of his bad looks, of his low weight, of his sudden mood changes; ashamed of himself, all in all. But that was not something that the oh, so perfect Will Solace could understand, with the whole camp trusting him with their life, both literally and metaphorically.
"Yes you are, and it's not going to take you anywhere" the son of Apollo murmured confidently, pressing his extended palm against Nico's cheek and stroking it gently while he raised his free hand to grip Nico's, squeezing it slightly. "Let me show you just how not-twisted you are" he whispered softly as he slowly bent down, swiftly brushing his lips against Nico's again.
But mere milliseconds later, the son of Hades was stepping back, jerking away from him, almost fidgeting nervously–wait, that was what he was doing.
"Drop it, Solace" he said, trying to make his voice sound menacing, but only managing to pull out a shaky statement.
"Nico, I–" Will started, but was cut off suddenly.
"Don't" Nico said, while the few shadows that the bright sunlight allowed in the room thickened around his small body and then just disappeared.
Unexpectedly left alone, Will sighed. Gods, he really was stupid wasn't he? He knew how unpredictable Nico was, but no, he had to go and do exactly what he knew would unsettle the boy. How clever he was.
Well, he had expected him to be mad, to grunt a little, maybe even to snarl at him. What he hadn't expected was that shakiness in his voice, that tremor in his tone, that look of fear in his eyes.
He sighed again, this time in a defeated manner.
He should just . . . give him time, sure. Nico needed time, that could be so easily said by the panic look in his eyes . . . He did, too. Having said something like that so surprisingly. He hadn't planned to confess his feelings to the son of Hades right then and there it just . . . kind of happened.
He denied, moving his head to the sides, disturbing his blonde locks in the process, but not very conscious of it.
He materialized again in Cabin 13, stumbling violently due to his confusion, much like he had when he had just been learning to take control of his powers but managing to keep standing somehow.
That was awkward. Awkward and strange and wrong. But then, why didn't it feel wrong.
He shakily sat down on the black duvet from his bed, walking pass the empty beds absently.
He had kissed Will Solace. Wait, that was not it. Will Solace had kissed him. And that thought was even more troubling, because it meant that the son of Apollo somehow, somewhat, sort of, probably had been serious with what he'd said.
That thought was something he still was not ready to face yet.
What if the son of Apollo was just playing a joke with him, with his feelings? Wait a second, what feelings? He did not, in any way or form harbor feelings for the leader of Cabin 7. Sure, he was thankful, he had saved his life a couple of times, but that was all.
He surely was not attracted to the other half-blood. Well, he was in fact good-looking, with his tanned arms and his blonde hair, with his sparkly sky-blue eyes and his–wait, what in Hera's name was he thinking?
No. He certainly was not feeling anything for Will Solace.
His thoughts suddenly stopped while he took notice of how even his name sounded melodious, like if there was a rhyme hidden somewhere in his–
«Stop it!» he awkwardly thought to himself, his hands turning into fists.
He was not sure about how he felt with the demigod's declaration. He hadn't even stopped to think about what he felt towards the son of Apollo, let alone how he felt with the son of Apollo saying he liked him. Why him, in the name of Olympus?
It had to be a joke, it had to be. Someone like Will Solace most certainly wouldn't look at someone like him with such eyes.
Still, he was pretty sure that unless he was actually going crazy, those things had happened.
Will wasn't the type to go around playing cruel pranks to others. He was very mature for his age, having had to deal with the responsibility of his injured comrades and the lives of those comrades. He wouldn't go around joking and playing with the feelings of others. He wouldn't do something like that. Well, unless he was very, very mistaken and had come to trust a very good liar.
But . . . he was sure that his eyes had been honest, honest and open and trusting, like they always had been, a slight look of worry in the bottom of them.
Will wasn't lying, Will wouldn't lie like that.
And if the son of Apollo wasn't lying . . . That meant that his words had been honest. And his words had been ones about feelings. One in specific. His words had been about love.
The thought made his heart skip a beat.
No, he couldn't . . . He couldn't risk getting a crush on Will Solace . . . That was just dangerous and emotionally suicidal. It was risky to allow himself to fall head-first for someone who would never correspond his–
Wait . . . he had just come across the realization that Will wasn't lying, and if Will wasn't lying that drove to a part in which Will meant that he liked him when the words had left his lips, and if that was so, there was no need to find anything risky because it was not. It had been dangerous rather for the son of Apollo to speak aloud his feelings, not for him, who was just there wondering if those feelings even existed and were to be returned to the son of Apollo.
He shakily took an intake of breath.
Will meant it. Will . . . liked him, nevertheless how weird and distant the thought was.
Will liked him.
He insecurely raised his left hand to brush his fingertips over slightly parted lips.
Will meant it, he liked him.
N.A.
So... how did that go?
This was supposed to be a one-shot, but now that I have it here... I had to split it in two.
Expect the next chapter soon!
And please do not forget to comment and review to tell me what do you think!
Love you all!