#will is corny as HELL i love him

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico has been watching him intensely for the last twenty minutes.

Will has been letting him.

Nico watches him a lot, actually. While he heals, if he’s tagged along to the infirmary; while he plays volleyball or basketball with his siblings. When they’re sat in Nico’s cabin, curled next to each other on his bed, Will reading, Nico, supposedly, playing on his DS. While Will trains, especially, although it doesn’t take long watching that clusterfuck for him to get up and come help out.

(“You are not this bad at swordfighting, William.”

“No clue what you’re talking about, darlin’. It’s just not my strength!”

“You are holding the sword backwards, William.”

“Oh, am I?”

“I am going to kill you, William.”)

Will doesn’t mind. He watches him, too. It’s hard not to.

“I thought you said you don’t have any musical talents.”

Will shrugs, whistling the last notes of the melody. A quick one that Michael taught him, years ago — something to ease nerves, to calm the mind. “It’s just an extension of my sonic powers, really.”

Nico stares like he knows the exact day you’re gonna die. Will knows a lot of people find this unsettling. He doesn’t get it. He relishes the attention, if anything; the scrutiny. One hundred percent of Nico’s intensity on him is — intoxicating.

“Sounds pretty musical to me.”

Will grins at him, cheeks aching, stomach flipping. Nico’s expression doesn’t change; eyebrows narrowed, mouth twisted into a thoughtful scowl. Evaluating every shift in Will’s expression. He squints one eye, when he’s focused. Will aches to brush his thumb under it.

“Do you know how to whistle, Nico?”

Nico’s dark eyes flip up to meet his. Will’s breath hitches — there are a thousand layers of Earth in those eyes. Like the crackling fractals of Pangea; eyes browner than earth, darker than black dirt. Deeper than the burnt sepia of the planet’s mantle. Two round abysses that Will has been falling down for half his life; air billowing around him, slowing his descent.

Gods, Nico is gorgeous.

“I — think so.”

His endless eyes squint, slightly-freckled nose wrinkling as he focuses on the purse of his lips. He glances down at them like that’ll somehow help, going goofy and cross-eyed. Will’s soul melts like a grape popsicle on a scorching summer day. His impulse melts away with it. He darts in close and pecks Nico’s pursed lips, pulling away just as fast. Those crossed-eyes blow open wide, pupils shrinking, and the air comes out of his lungs in a quiet, punched-out whoosh. Nowhere sharp enough for a whistle.

“…Wow.”

Will smiles sheepishly, rocking back on his heels.

“Um. Sorry?”

Nico’s thin fingers come up and brush the swell of his lips.

“Solace, you are the corniest motherfucker on the planet, you know that?”

Ducking his head to hide his laughter, Will nods.

“I know.”

“‘Can you whistle’, he says.” Nico scoffs. “Get over here.”

“Why?” Will asks cheekily. “Gonna ask me to show you?”

“Shut up.”

Nico grabs the back of his neck and yanks him down. Will can feel the press of his teeth, this time, the warmth of his skin now that he’s not pulling quickly away. He tastes good, too, like the citrusy chapstick he’s always got on.

He kisses as intensely as he stares.

Will finds he doesn’t mind that, either.

———

based off this tweet