Learn Italian With Nicolo di Angelo!

~~~fluffy~~~

Will knelt beside the tub, careful not to intrude on Nico's personal space. He held out the washcloth, a faint lavender scent tickling his nose. "Let me start by getting the worst of the mud off," he offered, his voice gentle.

Nico nodded weakly, tilting his head back to offer Will a better view. Will dipped the washcloth in the warm water and began wiping away the mud from Nico's face, his touch feather-light. The contrast between the cool mud and Nico's warm skin sent a jolt through Will. He suppressed a shiver, focusing on the task at hand.

Slowly, meticulously, Will cleaned the mud from Nico's face, the familiar features emerging from the grime. He lingered on Nico's jawline, the faint stubble catching slightly against the washcloth, then moved down his neck, his gaze drawn to the dark bruises blooming on his pale skin.

"You must have hit that fall pretty hard," Will murmured, concern lacing his voice.

Nico grunted in response, his eyes closed in exhaustion. Will decided not to press the issue. He continued cleaning, working his way down Nico's chest, his bare skin slick with water. The sight sent another spark of heat through Will, a delicious mix of protectiveness and something more.

Suddenly, Nico's hand shot up, gripping Will's wrist surprisingly tightly. His eyes snapped open, a flicker of vulnerability in their dark depths. "Maybe... maybe that's enough for now," he mumbled, his voice rough.

Will's heart hammered in his chest. He hadn't realized he'd been staring. He quickly pulled back, a blush creeping up his neck. "Sure, of course," he stammered, forcing a smile.

He held out the washcloth and the lavender-scented bath salts. "Here. You can finish cleaning yourself. If you need anything, just yell."

Nico nodded, a hint of a ghost smile playing on his lips. He took the washcloth and the bath salts, his grip still surprisingly firm for someone who'd been on the verge of fainting moments ago.

Will rose to his feet, a strange mix of frustration and exhilaration churning in his stomach. He still had no idea what had caused Nico to faint, but seeing him so vulnerable, so dependent on him, had stirred something primal within him.

He cleared his throat, trying to break the charged silence. "I'll, uh, go grab a towel for you when you're done."

Nico dipped his head in a shallow nod. Will lingered for a moment longer, the image of Nico submerged in the steaming water, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, etched in his memory. Finally, he forced himself to turn and leave the bathroom, the scent of lavender clinging to his clothes like a phantom touch.

Will paced outside the bathroom, the scent of lavender and something distinctly Nico mingling in the air. The silence from behind the closed door stretched on, each passing moment amplifying the strange mixture of concern and nervous excitement bubbling in his gut. Had Nico fallen asleep in the tub? Should he check on him?

Just as his worry started to tip into full-blown panic, the sound of water shutting off cut through the stillness. Will took a deep breath, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat.

A few moments later, the bathroom door creaked open, revealing Nico wrapped in a fluffy black towel that barely reached his knees. His hair, still damp and dark, clung to his forehead, framing the exhaustion etched on his face. But even in his weakened state, an undeniable allure emanated from him.

Will's eyes widened involuntarily. "Wow," he breathed, the word leaving his lips on a surprised exhale.

Nico looked down at himself, then back at Will, a flicker of self-consciousness crossing his face. "Not exactly a picture of Adonis, am I?"