Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s three days later when Nico invites Will over again.

The break in their regular hangouts makes sense. Nico had already assured him that things were fine, just that he’d been busy with other things. And, honestly, Will knows most of their project work is independent for now, that they don’t need to meet up until there’s more to review together. But still, he finds himself worrying.

It’s kind of funny that he can even find the time to worry about these sorts of things, given that he needs to deal with the shitstorm that it is the rest of life. He’s back at his mom’s house again, and despite his best attempts to stay hidden, both her and her boyfriend spotted him a day later. They didn’t really acknowledge him or anything. The only sign they noticed him was the house key he found on his desk that evening. Still, he misses not being perceived by them at all.

He also can’t help but feel embarrassed when he thinks too hard about it. He wonders how many more times this cycle of being kicked out or running away, only to return a week later will repeat before something finally breaks.

On top of all that, he finally started working. While his first job maybe should have felt like an accomplishment, any pride he feels is destroyed by the mundane and depressing nature of working at the convenience store. Still, it’s nice to start saving up his own money. He decides to keep it in a painted jar he got years ago, back when they still were living in Georgia and his mom was still his mom. The jar stays hidden under his bed and mounds of old clothes, hopefully safe from the prying nature of his mom’s weirder ‘friends’.

So, yes, his life is still in shambles, and no, he really doesn’t have time to worry about things like Nico being a little busy. But that doesn’t stop his goofy smile and a wave of relief when he gets Nico’s invitation Wednesday after work.

The next day, he waits for the other boy after school, sitting on one of the benches out front. The leaves are beginning to turn red and orange, and the air is growing chillier, but the sun is out today, finally, after the previous string of intermittent rain showers. He’s content to sit outside—a little surprising, given he spent much of the past few weeks sleeping outdoors. But the peace of mind it brings is welcome.

As he waits, he tries to plow through some of his assigned reading for English. It doesn’t prove to be a difficult task, especially since, for once, he actually likes what they’re reading. He’s so focused that when someone pokes his shoulder, he jumps, book slipping from his hands and landing flat on the ground.

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” he hears a familiar voice, looking up to see Nico.

He looks nice in the early afternoon sun, black hair catching hints of brown in the sunlight. When he turns, his eyes are also flecked with similar soft hints of color. He’s in a dark grey quarter-zip, sleeves pushed up to show a few corded bracelets and, most interestingly, Will catches a glint of silver on his ears.

“You have your ears pierced?”

Nico blinks as he picks up the book, a hand raising to fumble with his earrings. Will gets a better look—tiny dangling daggers, he realizes. “Oh, yeah. Piper did it for me…  ten months ago? Maybe?”

He’s kind of overwhelmed how Nico is simultaneously able to look so soft and be so kind while also being the coolest person ever, but he doesn’t want to be creepy and voice that. So instead he asks, “Is she, like, licensed to do that?”

Nico just grins, shrugging. “Oh, sure. She has the Parent Trap method down to an art.”

Will wrinkles his nose as he takes the book back, throwing it into his bag as he stands. He’ll figure out his page number later. “Please don’t tell me you guys used the apple slices.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you that we—”

“Dude.”

Nico laughs, a light and breathy sound that is instantly infectious, making Will’s indignation melt away as he also laughs. They walk side by side back to the apartment, and Will doesn’t mind the walk at all, not with the good weather and Nico’s presence.

When they reach the apartment, Nico opens the door and heads straight to the fridge. He pulls out two jello cups for them (no cooking today, thankfully; Will is pretty sure if he stands in the kitchen long enough, he’d be able to smell the smoke from the Garlic Grilled Cheese Incident).

They head to the living room and take a seat on the couch. Nico immediately starts flicking through the TV selections, squinting at the screen. Will shoots the other boy a frown, tapping his spoon on the edge of his jello cup. “Aren’t we supposed to be doing project stuff?”

A bad question apparently, given that Nico immediately groans loudly, sliding a little down the couch as though he’s just been asked him to do a hundred push-ups.

Will stifles a laugh. "Okay, okay. No project stuff. What are we watching, then?”

Nico slowly sits back up, still pouting. He flicks through a few more options, then pauses, looking back to Will. "Night at the Museum?"

Will hums in agreement, and Nico presses play. As the beginning credits roll, though, the other boy turns the volume down slightly, then leans forward, his posture shifting as he crosses his legs. He hugs a pillow to his chest, glancing to Will.

“Okay, before we start working—"

"Just because the movie has Theodore Roosevelt doesn’t mean we are working.”

“—I wanted to just talk about something with you.”

The humor dies in an instant as Will notes the anxious expression on Nico’s face. His heart skips a beat, immediately trying to recall any instances of overstepping or wrong words that might have Nico reconsidering their friendship. To his growing distress, his mind helpfully supplies at least twenty different options, and he promptly tries to table his concerns as he turns his attention back to the other boy.

"Sure, what’s up?"

Nico still looks anxious, biting his lip for a moment, before speaking again. “Well, I know we already talked about it, but... I just wanted to properly apologize. If I was too pushy about you coming over. I didn’t mean to, but if I did, I just wanted to, you know... apologize."

"Oh.” That was… not one of the options Will was considering, honestly. "No, hey. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I was rude and tired and overthinking. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you did anything wrong. You’ve been nothing but nice to me."

Nico opens his mouth like he’s going to say something more but pauses, his eyes softening as he looks at Will. His voice drops even quieter. "I don’t want you to feel like you have to apologize for everything."

Will's heart stutters. He kind of wants to argue with that, because, really, he thinks most of his apologies are warranted. But the look Nico's sending his way makes the words die in his throat. So instead, he just gives Nico a small smile.

"Okay, let’s compromise then. How about we both give up on the apologies for now?”

Nico stares at him for a moment, blinking, before his lips twitch up at the corners. It's almost a relief to see that familiar flicker of humor in Nico’s expression, even if it’s still tinged with a hint of hesitation.

"Deal," Nico says, and there's something easy in the way he says it, like he’s just as glad to drop the subject as Will is. He leans back, still holding his pillow in his lap, and flicks the TV back on.

Will follows suit, letting out a soft exhale, and leans back on the couch, feeling the weight lift off his shoulders. As the movie starts, he steals a glance at Nico, smiling at the way the dull TV light paints his features.

When the door chime jingles, sharp against the store’s quiet, Will barely glances up from the candy bars he’s restocking. He can recognize such an evil presence even with his back turned.

“Hello, Willy!”

“Okay, first of all,” he starts, standing up and turning to face said evil presence, “let the nickname die. Second, ever heard of an inside voice?”

“Oh, my bad.” Cecil spreads his arms wide. “I’ll be sure to lower my volume for the massive crowd we’ve got here.”

Will shoots him a glare in reply. Behind Cecil, Lou Ellen barely looks up from her phone as she grabs a bag of chips off the nearest shelf. “Lay off him. We don’t want to embarrass him too much in front of his big boy coworkers.”

Will raises an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. “Sadly, he’s got a point. It’s just me tonight.” He gestures toward the back office, where his manager has supposedly been holed up for the past hour. (Or at least, that’s what he was told when he clocked in. At this point, he’s beginning to think “manager” is just a title they slap on an empty office to keep up morale.)

“Oh, the tragedy,” Cecil says, draping himself obnoxiously over the counter—because, really, everything Cecil does is at least a little obnoxious. “Abandoned by your team. Forced to fend for yourself in this cruel, corporate wasteland.”

Will snorts, smacking Cecil’s foot with his own as he steps back behind the counter. “Yeah, heartbreaking. Anyway, did you actually come in here for something, or are you just here to bother me?”

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” Lou Ellen chirps, finally looking up from her phone. She drops the bag of chips and a soda onto the counter. “Now, be a good little cashier boy and ring me up.”

Will wrinkles his nose as he grabs the scanner. “Ugh. I should start charging you extra for being a freak.”

“You can try, but I know a little thing called the five-finger discount,” she says, fingers already creeping toward a pack of gum on the counter. Will smacks her hand away, quickly moving any small items out of her reach.

“Speaking of discounts, do we get an employee discount?” Cecil calls out, having wandered his way into one of the candy aisles.

“I get an employee discount. You get the joy of supporting a local business,” Will informs. He finishes scanning and bagging Lou Ellen’s items, suppressing a smile when she drops a few extra wrinkled dollars into the tip jar.

Cecil returns to the counter with an armful of candy bars, grinning as he dumps the haul in front of Will. “You wound me, Willy.”

“Good.”

The door chime rings again as he starts ringing up Cecil’s haul, and a couple of kids wander in, chatting quietly as they head for the refrigerated drinks. Will watches them out of the corner of his eye, keeping half an ear on Cecil and Lou Ellen’s conversation.

Cecil leans against the counter, unwrapping a candy bar he very much has not paid for yet. “Man, what do you even do when you’re not here? I feel like this job is your entire personality now.”

Will grimaces at the thought. Unfortunately, he can’t say Cecil is entirely off-base. “Gee, thanks. I’ll be sure to dissect that thought in my journal.”

Lou Ellen squints at him, slowing mid-crunch on a chip. “Do you actually keep a journal?”

“Of course not,” he huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Huh.” Lou Ellen tilts her head, blowing a stray curl out of her face. “I would have figured you for the type. Like, a little light-up glitter notebook moment for sure.”

“Oooh, I bet it’d be a riveting read,” Cecil agrees, trying and failing to wipe some chocolate from the corner of his mouth. “Day 237: Chewed on a pencil and stepped in a puddle. Sold three sodas and a pack of gum at work today. #Livin’ It Up.”

Will tosses an empty box at him, which Cecil dodges with a laugh. He sweeps up a few more of Cecil’s discarded wrappers to throw just as the kids make their way into the line, pulling his attention back to work. He makes quick work of their purchases, offering a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

As they leave, he catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the window and frowns at what he sees. He straightens up quickly, turning back to Lou Ellen and Cecil before they can notice.

“Alright,” he says, clapping his hands together. “If you’re done loitering, maybe one of you can help me stock the shelves.”

Lou Ellen wrinkles her nose, already stepping toward the door. “I’m actually so busy that day, I fear.”

“That day is today. What on earth do y’all have going on that’s so pressing?”

“Oh, would you look at that? Already out of earshot!,” she calls, slipping out the door before he can make good on any threats.

Cecil follows right after, but not before shooting Will a wink. “Miss you already, hot stuff.”

The door jingles behind them, leaving Will standing there, mildly exasperated. He shakes his head, moving to clear the counter, then pauses.

There, sitting neatly beside the register, are a few candy bars and a bottle of soda. The same candy bars Cecil had tossed onto the counter earlier. The same drink Lou Ellen had overpaid for.

Will frowns, picking up one of the bars. A few full-size Snickers bars, the kind that Cecil can’t even eat. His eyes flick to the soda. His favorite brand.

He exhales through his nose, something warm curling in his chest.

He has half a mind to chase after them, shove the candy back into their hands, but he stays rooted in place. Instead, he just shakes his head again, softer this time, and tucks the candy bars and soda into his backpack behind the counter for later.

Then, with a sigh, he turns back to the shelves.

Will’s gotten more comfortable hanging around Nico’s apartment. He hasn’t stayed the night since his first time coming over, but dinner has become easier. His own house might technically have a bed for him, but it doesn’t have this. Good food. Good company. No tension suffocating the air.

He’s even managed to keep up his perfect streak of avoiding meeting Percy’s stepdad. It’s not that he has anything against the guy—anyone who helped create Estelle has to be nice enough. But something about meeting him feels weird. Like another introduction he’s not ready for. Another layer of this whole “spending all my free time at Nico’s house because I hate being at my own” thing that he’s not ready to dissect.

So when Nico invites him to stay for dinner, he agrees without a second thought. He’s comfortable now—he knows what to expect, who to expect. For the first time in a long time, he can sit through a meal and actually breathe.

Which is why, when Will steps out of Nico’s room and spots a familiar-unfamiliar figure standing in the foyer, he doesn’t hesitate to turn on his heel and walk right back inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

Nico yelps, barely managing to step out of the way. "What the hell?"

Will barely hears him. He strides across the room, dragging a hand through his hair. "Why is there a teacher in your apartment?"

"What—oh, Paul’s home?"

Will stops mid-step, brain catching up a second too late. He turns to Nico, jaw dropping.

“Paul is Mr. Blofis?”

Nico doesn’t look nearly as appalled by this information. "Well… yeah? I told you this. Didn’t I tell you this?"

"No, you did not tell me your stepfather is a teacher. At our high school. Thank you so much for leaving that out."

Nico scoffs, crossing his arms. "And? What’s the big deal? He’s a teacher, but he has a life outside of school, you know."

Will doesn’t know how to explain it. He doesn’t know how to tell Nico that school and everything outside of school are supposed to be separate. That he’s already blurred those lines with the amount of time he spends at the apartment, and the last thing he needs is to throw in a teacher into the mix.

He hesitates too long, but Nico seems to read the stress on his face anyway, if the way his expression softens is anything to go bye. He’s been annoyingly good at that lately, Will notes vaguely.

“Okay, well if you really aren’t comfortable, I can grab us food and we can eat in here. No pressure to eat with everyone tonight.”

Will shakes his head. That would be worse. He’s pretty sure Paul might have already noticed his immediate retreat back into Nico’s room, so hiding out would just make it weirder.

“It’s okay. We can go.”

Nico smiles at him, bumping their shoulders lightly before leading the way out.

Will follows, still trying to steady his breathing as they enter the dining room. Percy is already there, helping set the table. “He immediately busies himself with the cutlery, carefully setting each piece down before taking his seat as Sally places a large pot of pasta on the table.

She smiles at Will, all warmth and genuine kindness that eases his nerves just a bit. "Good to see you, Will."

"You too, Mrs. Jackson," Will says, folding his hands in his lap.

Nico takes a seat next to him, glancing around. "Where's Paul?"

"Changing," Percy replies, setting down the last of the plates. "Estelle spilled her grape juice all over him, so he's trying to salvage what’s left of his dignity."

Will lets out a breath of laughter, but the moment is short-lived. His leg starts bouncing under the table, nerves creeping back in. He tries to focus himself to stay still, but his knee keeps twitching.

Then, suddenly, a hand settles on his leg.

He nearly jumps out his skin at the contact, but when he glances down, he sees Nico’s hand resting there, grounding him. Looking up, he finds Nico already watching him with a tense expression.

Will swallows, then tries for a small smile. Seeing as Nico’s expression remains the same, he’s not sure if it had the desired effect.

The moment passes as quickly as it came, though, because then Paul walks in.

Will’s seen him around school before, usually in button-downs and ties, armed with stacks of papers. But here, in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, he looks very different. He smiles at everyone as he steps in, immediately scooping up Estelle, who starts babbling the second she’s in his arms.

Then Paul’s gaze lands on Will. His smile grows slightly.

"You’re Will?"

Will nods, clearing his throat. "Uh, yeah. Hi, Mr. Blofis."

"Paul is fine. Whatever you are comfortable with," he says easily, setting Estelle back into her seat before taking his own.

The conversation flows as dinner begins. Will stays quieter than usual, mostly listening as the family chats, but he admittedly does start to relax as the easy rhythm of their conversation fills the space. He doesn’t mind sitting back, just absorbing the moment.

But then Paul turns to him, his expression warm. "So, Will—you go to the high school as well, right?"

Will nods. "Yeah."

"Have I had you in any of my classes?"

Will shakes his head. "No, I don’t think so." He hesitates for a second, but then, pushing past the instinct to shut down, adds, "My friend Cecil was in your improv class last semester."

Paul’s eyebrows lift. "Markowitz?"

Will winces. He sometimes forgets how much Cecil’s reputation precedes him. "That’s the one."

To his surprise, Paul laughs, nodding slowly. "Great kid. Lots of energy."

Will feels a smile tug at his lips as he picks up his water, taking a quick sip. “Hm. That’s definitely a way to describe him."

Paul laughs at that, shaking his head. “He’s got a real knack for it. He’s already expressed interest in the Spring play, so hopefully I’ll get to see more of him around.” He takes a bite of his meal, covering his mouth as he continues. "Are you into theater at all?"

Will shakes his head. "Not really. My mom used to be a musician, though. Guess I didn’t inherit any of her performing abilities."

Sally perks up at that. “A musician? What does she do now?"

Will grimaces before he can stop himself. He didn’t really think about the consequences of sharing that tidbit of information.

"Bartending," he settles on, though the answer comes out a little shaky. It’s not a full truth, but if people see her around town, it’ll probably be at a bar anyway. He doesn’t elaborate—there really isn’t much he could say—but thankfully, no one pushes the point.

As the meal continues, he finds himself easing into it. He jumps in when he has something to say, laughs at Percy’s complaints about the overload of assignments he’s facing, listens as Sally tells a funny story about other patrons she saw at the coffee shop today. It’s nice. By the time dinner wraps up, he’s actually smiling, actually enjoying himself.

Later, as he stands at the sink helping Nico put dishes away, he glances up and finds Nico watching him again.

This time, Nico is the one to smile first.

Will huffs out a quiet laugh in reply, bumping his shoulder against Nico’s.

The living room is supposed to be a space for homework, but in reality, it's become a test of Will’s reflexes.

Nico sits cross-legged on the couch, a bag of Goldfish in hand, squinting as he tries to angle the current Goldfish just right. Will, meanwhile, leans back on the cough, mouth open.

"Alright, stay still this time“ Nico instructs, raising onto his toes to get a better shot.

Will huffs, craning his head upwards slightly. "If you hit me in the eye once more, I might actually go blind.”

Nico ignores the worries raised, lobbing the Goldfish with a little too much force in Will’s opinion. It gets closer this time, bouncing off his nose.

"That was the opposite of staying still," Nico grumbles, already grabbing another one. Will rolls his eyes as he pops the discarded Goldfish in his mouth, dropping his head back on the couch. No appreciate for his efforts at all.

As Nico revs up his throwing arm again, a voice drifts from the doorway.

"Boys?"

Will inhales wrong, choking on the last bits of Goldfish in his mouth. As he sits up and begins to pound his chest, he catches sight of Sally standing by the doorframe, watching them with a small smile.

"You okay, dear?”

"Peachy," Will croaks, giving her a weak attempt at a thumbs up.

She doesn’t look like she fully believes it, but nonetheless steps into the room. “Well, sorry to disturb you both, but would you mind watching Estelle for an hour or so? I over scheduled myself for the day, and I just realized I have a meeting with a potential publisher in an hour."

Right on cue, Estelle barrels into the room, a small bag of toys dragging by her side. She climbs straight onto the couch, shoving herself against Will’s side as she begins to rifle through her items.

Will blinks down at her. He’s a little surprised by the request. It does makes sense—Percy and Paul are still at the school—but Sally seems very comfortable leaving Estelle with them, with him.

"Sure," Nico says easily, answering for the both of them.

Sally smiles, stepping forward to press a kiss to the top of his head. Then she leans over and gently ruffles Will’s hair. "Thank you so much. She loves to spend time with you both.“

Will stiffens at the unexpected touch, but it quickly turns into a comforting feeling. He finds himself nodding, returning her smile.

As Sally steps out, Estelle tugs at his sleeve, forcing him to move his arm and making herself comfortable at his side. He glances down at her, taking a deep breath.

Yeah. He can handle an hour of babysitting.

Will quickly realizes that Estelle is fully committed to sitting as close to him as physically possible. Which, while cute in theory, quickly proves to be a major inconvenience to Will doing literally anything.

"Does she do this with everyone?" he asks, shifting slightly. It doesn’t do anything as Estelle whines, shifting with him until she is once more pressed into his side like he’s a particularly comfortable pillow.

"Not really," Nico supplies helpfully. He makes no attempt to even look to Will, seemingly now preoccupied with balancing one of their textbooks on his head.

Will sighs, staring down at the tiny human now clutching his sleeve. Maybe she can be reasoned with. “…Okay. Hi.”

Estelle stares right back at him, blinking slowly. After a few seconds of silence, she replies simply. "Movie."

Will glances at Nico, who, thankfully, is actually paying attention now. He gestures at his inability to move. Nico just smiles, grabs the remote, and starts flipping through the streaming services.

After some brief negotiations (read: letting Estelle pick whatever she wants), they settle on Coco—a pleasant choice for a Disney movie that they will have to watch for the next few hours on repeat. Estelle refuses to sit anywhere but half on Will’s lap, so he just lets it happen.

At some point, Nico disappears into the kitchen and returns with cookies, handing one over to Will. He almost eats the entire thing in one bite, humming in approval.

His moment of cookie-induced bliss is cut short when Estelle tugs at his sleeve, eyes locked onto what’s left of his cookie with laser focus.

Will stares back at her in silence for a few seconds before he hears Nico snort. “Don’t worry, I got it.” He breaks off a small piece of his own cookie for her. “We give her smaller pieces since she’s a menace about crumbs.”

Will smiles at the thought, opening his mouth to respond, only to be cut off when Estelle shoves a handful of slightly-crushed cookie against his face.

“…Uh, is this for me?”

Estelle beams, nodding vigorously. He looks at the mess in her hands, then to Nico, only to look back when Nico provides zero support yet again.

“Why thank you, Estelle,” Will tries, choosing his words carefully. “But I don’t think I can—”

She pushes the cookie closer.

Will exhales through his nose, accepting his fate. He finally relents, taking a small bite and doing his best to not grimace at the mushy texture.

And really, the amount of germs he just willingly ingested is worth it when he hears Nico break into full, unrestrained laughter.

They get halfway through the movie when Estelle falls asleep.

Somehow, without Nico or Will noticing, she ends up sprawled across both of them. Will only notices when she shifts once, her head settled against his stomach and her legs draped over Nico’s lap.

Neither of them moves for a long moment.

“Well then,” Will finally murmurs.

“Guess we should get comfortably,” Nico says, voice low as he shifts slightly to put his legs up on the coffee table.

Will watches as Nico absently traces patterns against Estelle’s tiny socked foot, smiling slightly when Estelle huffs and presses closer against both of them "You’re really good at this, by the way,” Will offers.

Nico huffs out a laugh, grabbing a blanket from behind them and draping it over Estelle’s sleeping form. "Honestly? Having sisters is, like, ten times easier than dealing with Percy."

Will smiles at the sentiment, but he doesn’t miss the plural—sisters. He tries to put it out of his mind, not wanting to pry.

But Nico is smart. He glances at Will, reading the question in his expression before sighing. "I, um… I have two sisters. Apart from Estelle."

Will stays quiet, watching as Nico looks down, fiddling with the frayed edge of the blanket across his lap..

"Bianca’s older. We grew up with my mom in Italy until she, um…" He falters, his jaw tightening slightly. After closing his eyes for a second, he keeps going. “Well, after she passed, we moved here to live with my dad. And everything kind of sucked, but it was okay at least since it was the two of us, I guess. But when she was thirteen, she decided to go to some fancy girls-only boarding school across the country."

Will’s chest aches at the thought—Nico, being so young, losing his mom and moving to a new country, then watching his sister leave too.

"That must have been hard," he says quietly.

Nico shrugs, though he still looks far from peaceful. "I was angry with her for a long time. When she left me alone with our dad it was—I don’t know. But…" He exhales, gaze flicking toward Estelle’s peaceful face. "I get it now. She had to get out."

A beat of silence passes before Nico speaks again.

"I hope I can talk to her again someday," he admits. "I want to try, maybe when I turn eighteen. But I don’t want to pressure her."

Will nods slowly, though the thought makes him frown. Eighteen feels so far away. He can’t help but marvel at Nico’s patience. “I really hope you guys can talk before then."

Nico doesn’t say anything at first, staring blankly at Estelle. Then, he just shrugs, sitting up a little straighter.

After a moment, he continues. “Um, yeah. I have a younger sister, too. Hazel. She still lives with her mom and our dad. She goes to a private school in that district, so I don’t get to see her often either."

Will tilts his head. “Is she in the area? Or is she out-of-state as well?”

Nico purses his lips. “She’s only a few towns over. I just… I don’t like going back there. And it’s hard to find a halfway point between us, especially since she can’t drive yet.”

Estelle shifts a little, kicking out her leg to wrap herself around Nico’s waist. Sighing, he adjusts once again so she can get comfortable. “She’s super artsy. Smart, too. Way smarter than I was at her age.” A small, almost fond smile tugs at his lips before fading just as fast. “She’s not planning to move out anytime soon, though, so we’re stuck to just calling every once in a while until then.”

“Why not?” Will asks. “I mean, if Bianca left as soon as she could…”

Nico hesitates, taking a moment to compose his thoughts. “It’s different for her. Our dad… it’s complicated.”

“He wasn’t a good dad to Bianca or me. He wasn’t with our mom, but it still—it still hurt him, I guess. And then a few years after Bianca left, Hazel and her mom moved in, and suddenly, he just… changed.”

Nico suck in a sharp breath, shaking his head. “He changed for them. Which—that’s a good thing, of course. I’m happy Hazel has a… well, a better dad. But by then, it felt like too little, too late. I already had one foot out the door.”

There’s a pause. Nico isn’t looking up, but Will doesn’t interrupt.

“Now that I’m older, I can understand him more,” he admits finally. “Why he was the way he was back then. Why it probably wasn’t… easy for him, to have the two of us enter his life out of nowhere.” His hands curl slightly in his lap. “But that doesn’t make it suck any less. And it doesn’t mean I’m ready to forgive him.”

Will nods, not pushing further. He knows empty reassurances won’t mean anything—I’m sorry or I hope things gets better aren’t what Nico would need to hear. And really, he’s pretty sure nothing he says could.

His gaze drops to Estelle, her small fingers curled loosely around the strings of his hoodie. He smooths a hand gently over her sleeping face, watching as she stirs just slightly before settling again.

He doesn’t have much to offer, but maybe he can offer something back.

“I always wanted siblings.”

Nico glances at him.

Will keeps his voice quiet. “Even when my mom was more… there, it was just me and her. And we moved around a lot when I was little, so I guess I thought having siblings would’ve made it more fun.”

The second he says it, he feels kind of silly. He almost tries to shrug it off, but then he catches Nico watching him. Not judging, just curious.

“Would you rather have older or younger, you think?” the other boy asks.

Will blinks. “I never really thought about it.” He pauses, considering. “I think I just liked the idea of having a lot of them.” He huffs a quiet laugh. “Like—have you ever seen Malcolm in the Middle? I used to watch it all the time, and I just… I don’t know. I always wanted something like that.”

Nico tilts his head, thoughtful. Then he gestures toward Estelle, a small smile creeping across his face. “Well, you’ve got the younger sibling experience now.”

Will looks down at the tiny girl clinging to him, his own smile growing.

“Yeah, I guess I have.”

The night before the project is due, they stay up late. Neither can complain much, seeing as they had ample time to work and actively chose not to. Still, that doesn’t stop Nico.

At Nico’s fourth loud sigh, Will pointedly ignores him. When the fifth one drags out even longer, though, he finally looks up from the paper he’s gluing down, raising an eyebrow at where Nico is now sprawled out on the floor. “Everything alright?”

"I’m in pain."

"From what?"

"Existence. And a paper cut.”

To emphasize his struggle, he waves his hand in the air. Will snorts, nudging Nico’s foot with his own. “Well, power through a little longer, drama queen. I’m sure we’ll be done in the next hour.”

The good news is, Will’s approximation was right. By two AM, they’ve finally pieced everything together. The bad news is, they only managed two run throughs of the presentation before both passed out.

Will wakes up a few hours later to the sounds of quiet bustling in the kitchen, still on the couch, with a blanket he definitely didn’t grab draped over him. To his surprise, when he sits up he sees that Nico hadn’t retired to his room. Instead, he’s still asleep, curled up in an awkward position in the armchair.

And it’s probably not that deep. But still, his chest feels a little lighter as he pulls the blanket tighter, letting himself have a few more minutes.

The actual presentation goes smoothly—better than Will expected, for sure.

Despite showing up a few minutes late (which meant Will got to listen to Nico cursing Percy out the whole drive over because "of course you had to have your stupid coffee"), the rest of it goes fine. They barely stumble over their words, manage to field the half-hearted questions from their classmates, and, most importantly, don’t embarrass themselves. When their teacher finally nods them off, Will exhales, relieved as they slink back to their seats.

But as soon as he sits down, a strange weight settles in his chest.

This was your excuse.

The project was what kept them hanging out so much—what made it normal to spend so much time at Nico’s apartment. Now, it’s done. There’s no reason anymore.

Rather irrationally, the thought makes him want to cry. Or scream. Or both. But when he glances across the room, Nico look entirely unaffected. Chin resting on his hand, he’s already zoning out, barely pretending to listen to the current presentation.

So. That’s that, then.

And it’s not like Will expected this to last forever. Their whole deal started because Nico was being nice, and Will has definitely overstayed his welcome.

When school lets out, he isn’t sure what to do with himself. He lingers at his locker, stuffing his books into his bag way slower than necessary.

Then his phone buzzes.

(1:53 PM)

nico:

hello

post project celebration? i can make dinner

Will stares at the message.

For a second, he hesitates. He doesn’t want a pity invite.

…Then again, technically, this whole thing started because of a pity moment.

He shakes himself out of his debate and types back a quick reply.

(1:54 PM)

will:

Of course! Be over in a few :)

Will, being the filthy liar he is, doesn’t head to Nico’s right away.

Instead, he wastes some time in the library, halfheartedly flipping through his homework, but none of it really sticks. He’s self-aware enough to know he’s just procrastinating, but not disciplined enough to do anything about it.

Eventually, he packs up, swings his bag over his shoulder, and heads out.

Twenty minutes later, when he buzzes the apartment door, he barely has to wait before it clicks open. As soon as he steps inside, he tugs off his shoes, setting them neatly to the side.

“Pizza?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he follows the scent into the kitchen.

Nico is sitting at the dining table, one leg tucked up against his chest, a sketchbook open in front of him. A pencil twirls between his fingers, faint smudges of graphite on the side of his hand. He glances up at Will, offering a small smile.

“All it said was to put it in the oven, so…” He crosses his fingers. “Hopefully, there won’t be any fire alarms going off.”

Will huffs a laugh and pulls out a chair, dropping into it as they wait.

He should feel fine. This is normal. But instead, he feels stiff, like he’s been reset back to the first few times he came over. He doesn’t like it.

The silence stretches between them for maybe a minute before Nico sighs, letting his pencil clatter against the table.

“Okay, what’s up with you?”

Will blinks. “Huh?”

Nico frowns, leaning forward. “You’ve been acting weird since our presentation. I know things could’ve been smoother, but all things considered, I thought we did—”

“No, it’s not that. We—you did awesome,” Will cuts in. He hesitates, glancing at the table. “I guess I’m just… a little sad the project’s over. It was fun working with you, y’know?”

Nico studies him for a few seconds before nodding slowly.

“Ah.”

Not cryptic at all. “Ah, what?”

Nico exhales, folding his arms over his chest as he leans back in his seat. “Look, I’ll say it again, Solace. We’re friends. Just because the project is over doesn’t mean that is too.” His lips quirk slightly. “If anything, now we can hang out and not pretend we’re working.”

Will opens his mouth, then closes it.

He looks down at the table, fingers brushing against the rim of the table. He’s not used to this, he realizes—being wanted without an excuse. But… it’s a good feeling.

“…Okay, yeah,” he says finally, looking back at Nico. “That sounds nice.”

Before anything else can be said, the oven timer dings.

“How many paper towels do you think I need to pull that out?” Nico asks, completely serious.

Will snorts, pushing himself up to follow him. “More than you think.”

And for the first time, it really feels like this isn’t an ending.