Nico's POV

Once again, he's pushed out of the house by the yelling. It's incessant, and even when he puts in his earbuds and shuts his bedroom door tight and hums as loud as he possibly can, he can't escape it. Today, his dad was yelling at his mom for getting the expensive chicken at the grocery store, and with Hazel camping out at a friend's for the night, he couldn't take it alone. He slips out of the house unnoticed before putting in his earbuds, jamming his hands in his pockets and bending his head down low. He's walked these streets a thousand times over, but the good thing is that, after using the streets as an escape for so long, he knows where to go.

The playground in the woods is his secret. His escape when the arguing in his house gets too intense, a place where the air is crisp and he can clear his head. It's overgrown with vines and weeds, the metal rusted over, but the swing overlooks a pond and for a few minutes, he feels like he can breathe. 

That's where he goes that afternoon, music in his head as his feet hit the ground, slowly but surely. He isn't exactly in a hurry, and the longer he's away from the fighting and yelling of his home, the better. 

Soon he's on the backroad that leads him to the playground, and he's pushing back the weeds with his chest bubbling up with air. The playground is usually empty, and he thinks that the creaking of the swing is just the soft spring breeze pushing it around. But when he gets a full view of the playground he can see a blond boy sitting on the swings, kicking his legs in the air as he soars above the ground. 

For a second, Nico is shell-shocked. He's never seen anyone here, not in five years of making the trek over. He stands in the clearing, watching the boy swing on his swing, clear his head on Nico's playground. Nico almost leaves, lets the boy work through his own issues, but that would mean Nico would have to go home, and he isn't quite ready to do that so he takes another step into the playground, stepping tentatively on twigs and leaves that still haven't been swept up by the wind. Something crunches underneath his foot and the boy on the swing slows down, turning around and flashing Nico a tiny smile. His face is still but the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. 

"Sorry," Nico says quickly. "I'll get out of your hair. I can just come back later or something."

"Hey, don't let me drive you away," the boy says. "There's another swing. I won't talk, I get it." 

"Thanks," Nico says. He steps up slowly, taking a seat. It's the same view, overlooking the pond as the rusty metal creaks with movement. It's the same view and, yet, it's different because for the first time ever, there's someone sitting there next to him. 

"I'm Will, by the way," the boy says. 

"What happened to not talking?" Nico snaps. Almost immediately he feels bad. He isn't normally so brash but today, all he wanted was to clear his head, and now there's someone talking to him, someone he doesn't even know.

"Right, sorry," Will says. He chews on his lip, hanging his head. "I get it. Sometimes we just need to be alone, huh?" He glances at Nico as if he's looking for a response. Nico doesn't really want to give one, but he also doesn't want to be rude. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Nico says. "My name's Nico. Sorry I snapped. Today's just kinda been tough." 

"You wanna talk about it?" Will asks. "It's not like either of us have anything better to do." He smiles again and it's so clear that he's trying to be friendly, but Nico isn't sure if he has the energy to spill all his feelings to a complete stranger. At the same time, though, Will is right; neither of them has anything better to do. 

"Parents," Nico says with a wry smile. "It's like they fight, and they just kinda forget I'm there." He glances down at his hands, his feet swinging gently. "So, what about you? Just taking a nice walk and happen to stumble on my secret thinking spot?" 

"Just about the same as you, actually," Will says. "It's like you said. They fight so much they kinda forget you're there. And then they don't really notice you're gone, either." Nico grins. It isn't like it's easy to talk about his parents, and for the most part, he bottles it up tight in his chest. But the way Will looks at him, head tilted slightly, and lips curled into a smile, makes Nico feel heard. He reaches out a hand. 

"Shitty parents?" Nico says. 

Will gives him a high-five.  "Shitty parents."

Will's POV

Over the course of the next few months, he keeps running into Nico. Granted, that might be because his dad picking up extra shifts makes him snappy, and his mom can barely sleep because of the crying baby, but it gives him an excuse to meet Nico at the playground, over and over and over. After their second time griping about their parents together they exchange numbers. After the third time, Nico brings happy meals, and after the fourth, they can spend hours sitting on the rusted swings, their conversation topics ranging from parents to school to tv to anything else they can think of. After countless hours spent swinging and talking, and an afternoon listening to incessant screaming from his parents, Will has had enough. He packs a bag of food and a sleeping bag, picking up his phone and shooting a text to Nico. hey, what would you say to going camping?

Nico meets him at the playground with a bag under one arm and happy meal boxes under the other. Will greets him with a shaky smile, letting his bag thump to the ground. He knows that the already threadbare bottom is going to splinter apart even more, but he doesn't care. He throws his arms around Nico and he knows he's being direct but at this point, he's so starved for human contact he lets himself break. "Hey to you, too," Nico says. He's still holding his things but he wraps Will tight. He smells of pine and just very lightly of deodorant, and Will rests his head on Nico's shoulder. "You okay?" 

"I think so," Will says. He feels shaky and with a guiding hand, Nico helps him sit. Suddenly he feels like he's floating, and he shivers. "I will be, anyway." 

"Your parents?" Nico asks. Will smiles wryly. He loves his other friends, but not a single one of them understands what it's like to have the soundtrack of your house be shouting. 

"You know it," Will says. He sighs heavily, laying down and letting his arms splay out next to him. His hair collects twigs and dirt, and he feels free for the first time in a long time. "Sometimes I wish they'd just shut up, you know? Like, they spend all their time yelling at each other, and then they don't have any time for us." 

"I get it," Nico says, lying down next to Will. The McDonalds is probably getting cold next to them, but Will knows it will still taste good regardless. "We've still got each other, though, right?" 

"Yeah," Will says. He feels himself smiling. The air is no longer cold but refreshing, and his body feels like it's floating a foot off the ground. "Always." 

They eat their happy meals on the tower of the swing set, cold-ish chicken nuggets as the air grows colder around them. Soon Will is wearing the sweatshirt he brought and Nico is shivering, but that doesn't stop them. They play two-person hide-and-seek, see who can scurry up the willowy oak tree the fastest, swing so high their feet brush the tips of the stars and their heads rise just above the clouds. They lose track of the time, and by the time either one of them starts to feel the initial tug of exhaustion, the world around them has fallen silent. 

Nico's sleeping bag is a thin one from Walmart and Will's has a hole near the foot so they curl up close, watching the stars twinkle through a slit in the trees. Nico shivers, tucked up into a ball with his hands balled up in the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Will watches as Nico's breath plumes up into a cloud of smoke, but if he's uncomfortable, he doesn't show it. Nico's smile is wide, his cheeks bright, and Will wonders if Nico is feeling the same feeling he is, the one that starts deep in his heart and spreads through his veins like blood. The feeling of freedom that Will never thought he would be lucky enough to call his own.

Will flips over, looking Nico in the eyes and smiling softly. Nico inches closer, head tucked into Will's chest. His hair is feathery on Will's neck, and Will wraps his arm around Nico's back. "Hey," Will says quietly, his voice rising up and disappearing into the clouds. 

"Yeah?" Nico says. His voice is slurred with sleep. It could be three in the morning or ten at night- Will wouldn't know, and he doesn't exactly care. 

"Everything's going to be okay, right?" 

"I think so," Nico says. "Besides, even if it isn't, we'll grow up and we'll go to college and we'll forget about our parents fighting and the feeling of being ignored. And until then we have each other, right?" 

"Yeah," Will says. "We'll always have each other." Nico laughs quietly. "What?" 

"Nothing," Nico says. Will glances at the sky. It feels so big above them, like a never-ending dome that tops his entire life. "It's like if we had never been here at the same time, because of basically the same reason, and if we had never started talking, we never would have been friends. And I feel like I really need your friendship. You've gotten really, really, important, and I don't know what I would have done without you." 

Will is mildly ashamed to admit it, but he feels a tear prick at the corner of his eyes. Throughout the course of his friendship, he's found Nico pessimistic, and although it's funny, it's rare to get a genuine comment out of him. It makes this one all the more special, and he hugs Nico tighter. Will can hear his heart pounding in his chest and as he buries his face in Nico's hair. He smells the same smell as before, and it smells more like home than anything else Will can identify. 

"Thank you," Will says. His voice cracks. "That's- that's actually shockingly sweet." 

"Yeah, yeah, don't expect it again," Nico says. His breathing is slow and steady in Will's chest and it feels natural, with his body in Will's arms. He almost can't imagine clutching anyone else this close. All of a sudden he isn't thinking about how the wind sounds whistling through the trees, or the kaleidoscope of stars above them. All he can think about is the light flush of Nico's cheeks and the way his body feels so right. "G'night, Will." 

"Night, Nico," Will murmurs, soft into Nico's hair. Nico falls asleep almost instantly, but Will is awake for hours more, listening to the whistle of Nico's breath and the incoherent words he mutters under his breath as he sleeps. Will never knew that Nico was a sleep-talker. He's discovering all sorts of things tonight. 

It's funny; Will has been going to the playground for a couple of months. He's known Nico for a couple of months, gotten close to him and shared his secrets. And even though it's only been a couple of months, and Will has lived in his current house for sixteen long years, the playground feels more like home than Will ever thought he would feel.

Hi guys, I wasn't sure how I felt about this one at first but I actually really like it so I hope you do, too!

Nina