Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Loverboy’s back!”

Will’s grip on his clipboard grew tight, the tips of his fingers blanching. Through gritted teeth, he muttered, “Cecil.”

“Three days, huh?”

“Cecil Markowitz.”

Cecil’s grin only grew more wolfish, the glint in his eyes growing more mischievous. Terrifying. Like a lion that had found its prey. Like a predator about to pounce. “I bet you have a lot planned for him, don’t you? Like—”

Cecil, thank the gods, did not get to give out his crude examples—well, he did, but they were muffled through the sound of Will clasping a hand over his mouth to shut him up. It did not work.

Now Will stood by Cecil’s bedside with one hand grasping a clipboard like letting go meant losing his grip on reality, and his other hand clasped over Cecil’s mouth like letting loose meant letting all his secrets spill. Both hands were now wet, one with sweat, and one with—

“Did—?! Did you just—?! Did you just lick me?” Will sputtered, retrieving his hand and holding it to his chest like a mother would an injured child. This was breaking so many health codes.

Cecil’s shoulders shook with laughter, though it quickly turned to a rather undignified fit of coughing as something shot into the back of his head.

Lou Ellen slid onto the edge of the bed, sitting by Cecil’s feet, and because she was dramatic, she snapped once more, shooting another tiny pebble through the air, this time aiming for his forehead.

If Will didn’t know any better, he might have thanked the gods for bringing Lou Ellen here, for surely she would be here to defend Will Solace’s honor. Surely she would be here to tell Cecil to stop taking what little of his dignity was left and destroying it further.

As it was, Will did know better. He anticipated the coming attacks, and could only do so much to brace for them.

“I think it’s super romantic, Will,” Lou Ellen reassured him, nodding solemnly. “I mean, I would’ve been fine with a friends-to-lovers sorta deal, but making out in secret with your patient in a very much not Hippocratic-oath-approved-setting? Very dramatic. Very into it.”

“We’re not— he’s— we’re not going to—”

“I know!” Cecil barked at Lou Ellen. “‘No more Underworldly stuff, doctor’s orders,’ I mean—come on.”

“Seriously, I knew you were into the weird doctor-patient thing, but I didn’t think you’d get into it pre-relationship. That’s hardcore,” Lou Ellen said, very genuinely. “Respect.”

Will sighed. “What is wrong with you?”

“Got a list somewhere,” Cecil said, patting his pants pockets.

Will dragged a hand down his face. “I am not into any weird doctor-patient ‘things.’ I’m just— we’re just— he just happened to be my patient today. Like, come on, guys.”

“Sure, kid. Sure,” Lou Ellen said, raising an eyebrow, a smirk climbing up her face. “And your hands just happened to be shaking when you saw him on the hill.”

“‘Ooh, Nico, my hands are shaking! I am so scared! Please cop a feel and hold them!’” Cecil mocked, cackling, having very little concern for volume control. “Smooth, Solace. Real smooth.”

Will was sure his face resembled strawberries right now. He reviewed his options: jumping out the window, running off into the sunset and faking his death, or skipping the whole dying process and just letting his soul descend to Elysium.

“Shut— shut up. Please.”

“He was so into it, Will, don’t even!” Lou Ellen grinned. “You do not get to pull a cheesy move like that and then be ashamed about it.”

“Hell yeah,” Cecil said, crossing his arms, the grin never leaving his face. “If you’re gonna be a smooth bastard, be an unashamedly smooth bastard.”

“I am going to die.”

“You are not going to die,” Lou Ellen said, plucking the clipboard from his tense hands and laying it on the metal supply cart next to Cecil’s bed.

Will groaned, shoving his face in his hands. “I am going to die and Nico di Angelo is going to be the cause of my death.”

“You are not,” Lou Ellen repeated, “going to die. Not after you’ve gotten him to agree to spend three days with you.”

Will looked up at them, his gaze flicking between both of his friends. “Well— not with me, per se. Just… three days. In the infirmary. Healing.”

“Yeah, and you’re doing the healing, bud,” Cecil said.

“So three days. In the infirmary. Alone. With you.”

“He could still have visitors!” Will defended, because for some reason, this was something that needed defending.

“Oh, my gods,” Cecil cried, halfway between a groan and a cackle. “You can’t even think about being alone with him without your soul withering. You are hopeless.”

Lou Ellen reached forward to swat at him playfully, which earned him a perplexed what the fuck from Cecil. “Not like you were any more normal around Ellis—”

Cecil promptly kicked her in the chest, grin growing smug as she coughed out in response. “Your point?”

“My point, jackass,” Lou Ellen said, turning to face Will, “um. My point. Yes! My point is that you’re in it now. And you’re not getting out of it.”

“I just— I’m hopeless! He’s so— he’s beautiful, and smart, like, so smart, and he’s so strong, I mean, have you seen his muscles? I swear to you, he’s built, he could pick me up like it’s nothing, and his sarcasm, and gods— have you heard his accent? Oh my gods, what if he speaks Italian in my vicinity? I will die. I will die. And he’d probably be there for the funeral rites. To bless it with his… gorgeous Lord of Darkness, Prince of the Underworld vibes. We won’t get to do the Thing.”

Cecil’s eyes flicked toward Lou Ellen for an answer. The Thing?

Helplessly, Lou Ellen shrugged. The Thing, man! I dunno!

Will caught their faces. “The Thing! I have stayed up so many nights explaining this to you I’m almost offended you don’t remember.”

They blink.

“C’mon, the Thing Achilles and Patroclus did where they—”

“—Got their ashes mixed and buried together after they died!” Lou Ellen finished for him, the realization causing her eyes to widen, her grin almost wistful. “Will. William Solace. You are… such a romantic. I am swooning. C, tell him you’re swooning.”

Cecil would, but he was already play-fainting into his bed, a hand thrown dramatically over his face as he sighed dreamily. “I’m dead. I’m Nico di Angelo and I’m starring in a Greek tragedy featuring the most romantically inept Son of Apollo and I’m dead.”

“I’m not— I’m not inept! I am very much ept!”

Cecil shot up. “Your way of flirting is telling him all the ways he doesn’t take enough care of himself.”

Will rolled his eyes. “So he’s— medically inept and needs someone to do it for him. That’s fine. Maybe I was just trying to figure out how far gone my patient was before I sent him off with a Tylenol and a prayer.”

“You held his hand and freaked out when you saw all that dark stuff in him,” Cecil said.

“Ooh, no, he was freaking out way before,” Lou Ellen reminded him, grinning earnestly. “Remember when Coach Hedge told him about that shadow travel thing Nico did? He was so wound up.”

“Well what if that was just! Me being a good doctor! Huh! What if! I! Just enjoy holding up the Hippocratic Oath!”

“Dude,” Cecil said, cackling to himself, pressing the heel of his palms to his eyes as if Will’s inability to be normal around his crush was physically painful. “If you gave a single shit about the Hippocratic Oath you wouldn’t be trying to get into your patient’s pants right now.”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t even start lying, Will,” Lou Ellen deadpanned, “I’m not in the mood to try and find your EpiPens again.”

“It’s okay, dude,” Cecil reassured him. “You’re horny.”

“And in love!”

“And tragically horny.”

“And yearning.”

“Again: horny.”

“Cecil!” Will groaned.

“You’re pining, Will, and it’s honestly a little pathetic, but in that really cute and sweet way. Trust me. It’s not gotten to Ellis levels of pathetic.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” Will sighed.

“The fuck does that mean?” Cecil cried, going pointedly ignored.

“But,” Lou Ellen said, “it is still a bit pathetic. So do something about it, you beautiful, beautiful idiot! You’ve made your bed, now die in it!”

“Um,” Will said, rather eloquently, “I don’t think that’s the—”

“No, no, sounds about right,” Cecil said, nodding gravely. “You got him where you wanted him, but he’s Nico, man—he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be. So do something about it. And die trying like a pathetic gay idiot. Or die having never tried.”

Will opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, then closed his mouth. After a moment, he said quietly, “I don’t wanna… gods, I don’t wanna mess this up.”

Cecil’s smile grew too soft, too real for comfort. “Then don’t.”

It was genuine, not laced with any of that trademark Markowitz charm. It was… kind.

It really was that simple, wasn’t it?

With a wink from Cecil and a cheek kiss from Lou Ellen as his good luck charms, Will made his way to the back room of the infirmary where Nico stayed. He prayed quickly for his Father’s aid in love—though he’d never really lucked out there, had he? Neither Apollo in love, nor Will in prayers.

And still, the sun had never shone brighter.

And still, Nico’s scowl—practiced as it was—had never looked more soft. Like he was fighting back a smile.

And still, Will thought maybe he wouldn’t mess this up. Maybe he couldn’t.

“They’ve been in there for, uh,” Cecil checked the clock by the wall nervously. “Eighteen hours. Do we… do something? Stage an intervention?”

“No, no. The intervention’s for when they go silent. I’ve been up all night trying to keep my soul tied to my body after all the things I’ve heard.”

“Gods, what are they even doing in there? Are they still alive? Are they breathing? Are their body parts still intact?”

“Bickering…” Lou Ellen shivered. “It’s the worst thing to grace my ears! All because the topic of Star Wars was brought up at some point yesterday.”

“No,” Cecil blanched. “We aren’t seeing them for another month. Will’s mom might come file a missing person’s report. They’re gonna put together a search team.”

“They are such weirdos.”

“Actual freaks. They’re perfect for each other.”

“Oh, gods. I think they’re arguing about the right order to watch the movies in.”

“I thought Nico’s never actually seen a movie?”

“Yeah, but Will doesn’t need to know that.”

“Yeah, but you know how Will gets about the original trilogy. The next time we see them is gonna be in Elysium. When they’re dead.”

Lou Ellen grinned, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “At least their ashes will be mixed.”

(Because Lou Ellen and Cecil were impossibly loyal friends, they never told Nico about Will’s deranged dream to have their ashes mixed after death.

Until the wedding, of course.

Where Hazel unsheathed the very humiliating story of Nico gushing about the joint tombstone he had planned for he and Will long before they even got together.

Freaks, indeed.)