Solangelo Oneshots and AU's

Surprise

AN:
I really need a better title for this one...

Nico pauses outside the door of the infirmary with a distorted and unresolved notion in mind. He subconsciously gnaws at his lip, gently tossing the sugar free soda can to and fro between his hands. There's an irrational nervousness in the way he's bouncing on the balls of his feet, sighing in a last ditch attempt to collect himself, raking a hand through his mess of a hair out of sheer habit.

This is stupid, Nico thinks before turning on his heel, just about ready to storm back to his cabin. He makes it a few paces until he stops, groaning and cursing at the sky, heading back to that gods damned infirmary door once more.

He lifts his arm and his knuckles brush against the cool wood, contemplating knocking as if it were a choice between life and death. Then, Nico just shakes his head, kidding himself for even considering it.

Eventually, frustration is what makes him push open the door, and he's met with the familiar yet almost blindingly white painted walls and the wafting sterile scent that isn't entirely unpleasant. It's an undoubtably busy day, and (while shrugging off the feeling of feeling abhorrently out of place) he watches as the children of Apollo rush around, weaving between people like it's a hive, and eventhough it's been a little over a week since the war ended, it's clear that not everyone is at all close to recovering yet.

A few of the patients catch his eye warily, unnerved, he doesn't blame them, and Nico realises how much of a shitty idea this was. Who'd want a child of Hades in an infirmary?

"Nico?" a painfully familiar voice announces and Nico almost jumps out of his skin. With a subtle gulp, he spins around, met with a bed of scruffy, blond curls and freckles that causes something warm and golden to blossom in the pit of his stomach.

When Will smiles at him, flashing his perfectly straight teeth and all, only then do the skeletal butterflies make themselves known.

"I didn't expect to you see you today," the blond begins with an unmissable concern to his features, scanning Nico as if analysing for any visible injury, "Are you hurt?"

Nico hates the way that he can't even bring himself to function like an ordinary human being— or demigod, better yet. He's supposed to be sharp thinking, quick on his feet, but throw this certain son of Apollo into the equation and every single thought comes out slow and clunky as if his mind were a broken clockwork.

"I— uh, no," he replies rather intelligently, "I just came in for, uh..."

Nico promptly thrusts the soda can into the unsuspecting palms of the healer.

"There."

Will takes a few seconds to peer at Nico. Then the soda can. Then at Nico again.

The wide and bright beam that spreads across his lips doesn't fail to make Nico's breath hitch.

"You actually listened to me," Will announces like he's somewhat awestruck, "I really needed this too, as well. Gods, you'd think that things would get quieter around here as time goes on. It's so stupid to already have camp activities getting back into the swing of things, more people just get injured and we don't really have the space to deal with them and it's a huge mess to be honest. Seriously, I've been on my feet constantly and I slept like 2 hours yesterday before I was dragged away and gods I could really use a break right about now but you know, duties and all but it's—"

Will registers the way Nico smiles fondly at him, and the healer purses his lips to prevent the further spill of his ramble.

"Thanks for the drink, death boy. I really appreciate it," the blond smiles, and Nico almost melts into a shadowy puddle — despite the the damned nickname.