A/N:

uh... surprise?

I've been sitting on this chapter for around a year now. I just never found myself finishing it until today apparently. I also feel like I owe you guys a proper final (cry) chapter. So enjoy 8k of pining nonsense. A/N at the end, too.

There's a new and sudden transfer at Yancy Academy, and he's all everyone's been talking about.

Public or private, boarding or day, if there's anything that all high schools have in common, it's how alarmingly fast word gets around. Prestigious grounds and fancy uniforms won't stop teenagers from being teenagers, and has no impact on how gossip spreads like wildfire through these century year old walls.

Will doesn't know much beyond the undoubtedly distorted rumours that have been piled upon one another. So far, the only definitive facts he has is that the transfer is a boy, and one who is exceedingly important. Admittedly though, it's not much to go off of – especially considering that these two things apply to the entirety of the student body.

Yancy Academy is a reputed school, after all. And that means that it's a beacon for rich boys aged twelve to nineteen, with too busy fathers who just find it easy to ship their children away for a couple months at a time to keep them out of their hair. Fathers who place their whole trust in the staff and the headmaster to raise their kids for them.

But Will's not too fussy about these sorts of things, he's not exactly 'one of them' anyway.

He's lying down on his bed when it happens, on top of his tidied sheets with a book in hand. It's the weekend – a Saturday afternoon to be specific – so it's particularly strange when they knock on his door since room inspections only ever take place every Sunday, Wednesday and Friday.

Surprised though he may be, Will's quick to bookmark his page and answer the door. It opens to Bacchus's ever-present scowl, looking as unsatisfied with life as ever as he stands in the corridor.

"Mr Solace," the deputy headmaster starts, his tone as colourful as cement. "I'm not intruding on anything, am I?"

"No, sir." Will answers, shaking his head despite knowing full well that he doesn't actually care. Just formalities and all, he supposes.

His eyes, always so strangely deep and purple, narrow slightly. "Nothing, eh? No homework? No studying to do? Your mock examinations are coming up in a few weeks, Mr Solace. I certainly hope you're not slacking."

"I'm all up to date, sir."

"Excellent," says Bacchus grimly. "There are matters to be discussed that concern you— no, don't interrupt. As you must have heard by now there is a new student that has joined today under short notice. The properintroductory preparations therefore have not been made, so we thought it fit to put him under your responsibility."

Bacchus pauses, beady eyes scanning him for any sort of reaction that he could write off as insubordination. When Will says nothing, he carries on with a huff.

"It wasn't my idea, of course, considering that we have a wide range of bright students to select from..." Will almost rolls his eyes. "Yet I admit that your situation could make this ideal."

"...My situation?"

Bacchus laughs humourlessly, with unsettling croaks almost as loud as some of the floorboards around here. "Now, now Mr Solace, you really didn't think you'd keep this room all to yourself for the rest of the semester, did you? All the other students pair up, what makes you think you're so special, hm? This is all entirely based off your rooming arrangement."

"I never claimed to be special, sir," Will states reverently, his patience still running miles long. Professor Bacchus has had it out for him since day one, he's gotten a lot of time to get used to it by now. "My accommodation was set by circumstance."

Lips curling at an answer that he can't reprimand, he says: "Then I expect to hear no issues concerning your new roommate."

"This is Mr di Angelo," Bacchus announces, stepping aside from with the doorframe to reveal a boy Will wasn't even aware stood there, and oh-

He's gorgeous.

Somewhere in his head, Will's conscious of the fact that a professor is talking and that he should at least be paying half of his attention towards him – yet his words are still reduced to white noise at the sight of the boy stood across him.

He is not in uniform – though it is a Saturday, Will dumbly reminds himself, and that no student would be in their uniform today. He's dressed in loose joggers and a hoodie, clothes that don't portray the choking formalities of this school but instead indicate a long and tiresome journey. No doubt Mr di Angelo has had to travel several hours to be here, and for what? Nothing particularly worth it, in Will's humble opinion.

It is still a refreshing sight, though – the clothes, that is. No sweater-vests or slicked back hair, a view that Will has grown quite bored of since his years at Yancy. Instead of draping prosperity, he looked good with his jagged edges. With the hood drawn over his head, and dark, stray hair peeking out at the edges and delicately framing his face – its inkiness a stark contrast to paper white skin, flawless like an empty canvas.

To say that he has never seen someone as beautiful as him would be an understatement, because Will never actually believed people looked like this in real life. But there he stood, a figment straight out of his wildest dreams – and he was very much real, indeed.

Then their eyes meet, and Will is so ridiculously struck he breaks away immediately.

"—I hope all that is understood, Mr Solace." Bacchus's voice is suddenly so sharp and distinct, though maybe that's just all in his head.

Will had not heard, nonetheless understood, a single word the professor spoke. Yet he replies, "Certainly, sir."

"Good," he says, then with a nod. "Gentlemen."

As Will watches their deputy headmaster turn on his heel and stride down those barren hallways, he's momentarily consumed by his own simmering frustration to figure out what it is that he's expected to do next.

Facing the boy, Will realises just how out of depth he is. Bacchus was right, literally any other student would be much better tailored for this role. Around here, Will sticks out like a sore thumb with all the posh and upper-class folk, and Bacchus probably knew this too.

'Rooming arrangements' my ass, he thinks.

Bacchus has always hated him, like Will was the runt of the litter. To be completely honest, he is – that is as much as a fact as the sky is blue and the grass is green. But constantly being reminded of this was something he had expected of students, not the teachers that had rifled through thousands of applications and had specifically selected him to be here.

Bacchus and the rest of the students have the same narrow-mindedness, so it's no wonder that the others just adore Bacchus and vice versa.

But then, this new, peculiar and awe-worthy boy stood across him says the very words that has Will completely falling head over heels for him.

"Damn," the boy says. "That guy was such a dick."

~*~

His name is Nico di Angelo, and they're friends. But Will still doesn't know very much about him.

He has no idea where he comes from, or who his parents may be – which is strange because around here that's usually the very first thing you find out about a person. Nico doesn't seem like he wants to talk about it, so Will doesn't pry. Despite his subtle curiosity.

Though, there is a pretty miscellaneous list of facts Will does know. For instance, he knows that Nico doesn't like orange juice with bits. He knows that he doesn't like to linger around in the common rooms much, and prefers to spend his time in their room, sketching away on a notepad. He knows that he has an older sister he clearly cherishes – if the photo by his bedside is anything to go by. And he knows, evident due to his many, many rants, Nico absolutely despises economics and hates that it's a mandatory subject.

Other things too, like how Will knows that whenever he manages to make Nico laugh his nose scrunches up in the most endearing way. And, though Nico probably isn't even aware of it, Will knows just how adorable he is when he occasionally mumbles in his sleep.

And, now his most recent revelation, Will knows how good Nico di Angelo looks in a towel.

As if seeing being in constant proximity with the most attractive man he's ever laid eyes on wasn't enough, Will walks into their room just as Nico leaves the bathroom with a trail of steam on his tail.

Time freezes just for a second, inadvertently catching a glimpse of the low-hanging towel around his waist just as Nico's eyes widen. Only then does Will get slapped with enough sense to avert his gaze.

"Sorry! I didn't realise—"

"—No, it wasn't—" Nico stammers over his words while Will takes a specialised interest in the intricate gold paint lining the edges of the walls. "It's my fault, I forgot my clothes out here."

Will licks his lips, a nervous habit of his. "I didn't mean to—"

"—I know, I know. I just... I thought you'd still be at breakfast. So um, sorry."

"Nope." Will tries to confirm, though it comes out awfully strangled. "Not at breakfast..."

He's not looking at Nico, but it doesn't take a psychic to pick up on the discomfort radiating off him. He stammers something quickly that Will doesn't quite catch, and locks himself in the bathroom once more.

It's a curse in disguise. A sight that Will would far from mind seeing, but in the moment feels too invasive. Will is not a bad guy, but his emotions can only be so suppressed – and now that image leaks through every crevice of his brain. Those long legs and narrow waist. Raven hair dripping upon defined collarbones and perfect skin.

There's a gentle heat settling in his core and it's far too early for this. Though that implies that there would eventually be an ideal time, in which there won't be.

~*~

Will is just grabbing his lunch when it happens.

"I just think it's rich that he walks around here thinking he owns the place," someone says.

Another sniggers. "But he's hardly rich though, is he?"

Repressing a sigh, Will packs his tuna sandwich to go. He never eats in the hall anyway.

You'd think that after so many years, people would get bored of picking on the same person, even after they get zero response. Will's got a cool head and a patience level that stretches across canyons. He's stubborn to a fault, and would never satisfy any materialistic brats by letting them get to him.

He tells himself that he's here on his own accord. That he deserves to be here as much as anyone else, and that's that.

"You're quiet today," Octavian chides, leaning in close enough that Will could smell his probably $700 cologne. "Keep it up. Maybe it'll give me a chance to forget about your presence."

"Or you could just not to talk to me?" Will offers.

"Yeah..." he drawls thoughtfully. "But that just wouldn't be funny, though."

"If you want funny then there's a mirror right there," he mutters.

It was the wrong thing to say and Will knows it. Knows it when there's a clatter, a barge, and now Will's being pushed roughly into the edges of one of the tables. Pain lances through his side, more than enough to knock the wind out of him as Octavian hauls him by the collar of his shirt.

"Don't you dare speak to me that way," Octavian hisses, spewing venom and eyes swirling like a hurricane. It's obviously an excessive reaction, Will notes, and likely all for show. "You're lucky to be here, Solace. The least you could do is fucking act like it, and stay in your place."

Will clenches his jaw, but otherwise doesn't say anything.

"There's a difference between you and us," he snarls, letting go but not yet stepping out of his space. "The rest of us actually belong here."

Again, he's here on his own accord. Again, he deserves to be here as much as anyone else.

It's a mantra at this point.

And maybe if he repeats it enough, he'll actually believe it one day.

~*~

"What happened to you?"

Will is sure Nico isn't trying to be rude when he walks into their room. He's got a spread of textbooks and notes scattered across his bed, though from the little doodles Will can just about make out in the margin of the pages, he doubts he's gotten very much studying done.

"Nothing much," Will says, though sceptical – he was sure he had straightened out his collar in the reflection of the trophy cabinet before he walked in.

Nico frowns, unconvinced. "Where's your lunch? I thought you were bringing it back here."

"I was gonna pick up something but nothing there was good," he lies with a shrug, and then brushes it off with a chuckle. "What is this? Twenty questions, hm?"

"Whatever man," Nico sighs, turning back to his textbook. "But we're friends, right? You know you can talk to me."

"I know," Will answers with a smile that's actually a little bit genuine. "But seriously, it's nothing new."

~*~

Biology has always, always been his favourite subject. He can't mentally comprehend how someone couldn'tenjoy it. It's easy for him to get lost delving deep into it, and it's intriguing enough that he doesn't even mind when he does. It's crazy to think about sometimes. How everyone shows such variation, but through all these intricately designed layers, we're all composed of the same four key DNA bases. And for a second, Will thinks that maybe they're not all that different after all.

Will's not enough of a nerd to actually like studying, though. There's a stark difference between enjoying to learn new content, and then putting yourself under copious amounts of stress trying to memorise every single word just so you can regurgitate it all out onto a page under exam conditions. He manages though – does pretty well, actually – so he's not one to complain too much.

Apparently though, that's not always the case for other people.

"I swear to god," Nico grits out after an hour of glaring a hole into his empty homework assignment. "I'm gonna end up flunking out, and I'll be glad. At least I won't have to do this shit anymore."

"That's the spirit."

Nico throws a pencil at him. It bounces pathetically off his forearm and Will pouts at the uncalled-for attack. "I'm being serious Will, I'm officially done."

Taking pity, Will rolls off his bed and glances over Nico's shoulder to see whatever impossible subject he's trying to battle.

"The Krebs Cycle?" Will frowns after skimming through the first few questions. "We aren't even doing this in class right now."

"I know. But they're making me catch up on everything I missed out on cause of joining late by myself, anddo the stuff we're learning now on top." Nico explains dejectedly. "They're sadists, Will. Every single one of them here."

"That's actually really fucked up..." Will agrees. They don't even make him do as much work, and they surely couldn't expect a student to learn half the curriculum on a major subject on their own?

"And this school is supposed to have the best education system out there. What bullshit."

"I know I'm no teacher, but I could help you out? Like tutoring?" Will offers. He did this topic a while ago, but it had been one of his favourites so it's still quite fresh in his memory. "I mean, if you want to."

Nico shrinks a little in his seat, and Will thinks he's accidently offended him for a second.

"Are you sure? I mean, I'm sure you're really busy yourself, right? I don't want to drag you down with me."

He's only half joking when he says, "Well it's not like I've got anything better to do."

Nico spins around on his chair, staring at him hesitantly. "...You'd really help me out?"

"Of course I will. Like you said, we're friends."

The boy studies him for a few seconds longer before letting a heart-stopping smile bloom across his lips – and honestly, who could ever refuse someone as gorgeous as him? "Thanks, Will. It uh, it really means a lot."

And that's how that begins.

~*~

Tutoring ends up falling upon the same days as room inspections, because that way whenever a professor decides to barge into their room at any given moment, they can actually look like the motivated, hard-working and disciplined students that this school expects of them.

It's the best of both worlds, he supposes. Being able to spend so much extra time with Nico is the most exquisite type of torture. Will's well aware that all this close contact is severely testing the limits of his heartstrings, but he can't find it in him to put an end to any of it.

Besides – academically – it benefits Will just as much as it does Nico. Nico's marks start to climb higher, and Will finds teaching the content is a surprisingly effective revision technique. It's proven when he obliterates his mock exams, even with the drastic cuts he's made to his study schedule in order to tutor Nico.

Though truthfully, the most rewarding outcome of them all is Nico bursting through the door to their room on a peaceful Friday evening, and suddenly slams Will into a hug that really gives away all that hidden strength in Nico's wiry limbs.

"I got an A, Will! An A!" he exclaims with beautifully bright eyes and report card in hand. And though frozen in the moment, Will can't help his own wide grin at Nico's success.

"Congratulations!" Will exclaims. "I told you that you could do it!" And he really means it. He couldn't be prouder.

Nico's still smiling as he pulls away, despite having gone a little red. "This is a cause for celebration, I think."

"Yeah, but there's not really a lot we can do cause of— where the hell did you get that!?"

The way that Nico smirks all too slyly at him would make Will's stomach flip, but he's more concerned with the two glass bottles he holds up in his hands. "I found them," he offers as an adequate enough explanation.

"'You found them.'" Will deadpans.

Nico simply shrugs. "Finders keepers, right?"

Nico walks over to the table and before Will even realises what he's doing, he places cap against the edge of the solid, hard wood and slams down his palm down so the lid flies off with a pop – clearly with little care for chipping the mahogany.

"Nico!" Will hisses as the boy casually takes a swig. There are too many rules being broken here but there's one thought that pushes its way right to the front of his mind. "It's inspections today, we're gonna get caught."

Groaning unintelligibly, Nico pouts in a way which makes Will's constant urge to kiss him spike. "C'mon Solace, live a little. We deserve this today."

"I don't know—"

Then he looks up at him pleadingly through thick, dark lashes. "Please?"

Will is only so strong.

"Not here," he tells him, because that in itself would be walking into a suicide or an expulsion or both. "I know a place, so just follow me and— for god's sake hide those fucking beers before you get your ass kicked by Bacchus."

"Knowing him he'd probably just confiscate it for himself."

Will snorts, Bacchus has always stroke him as a raging alcoholic who is just extremely good at holding his liquor.

"Isn't his Greek name Dionysus as well?" Nico later adds as they're halfway up the steps, not really getting this whole discreet thing.

"Gods, shut up," Will tells him, albeit affectionately, but seems to miss out it's because Nico's about an inch from making Will laugh aloud and immediately give them away. "You're gonna get us caught."

"Whatever you say, Solace," he teases before falling silent behind him.

Will can't really remember the last time he snuck up to the roof, a place of ultimate solitude that he had found completely by accident... or perhaps less by accident and more a combination of being lost and a burning curiosity. After all, people don't just stumble up ladders by accident, and they certainly don't try to push open stiff-hinged doors that are stuck in place after probably years of disuse inadvertently.

That being said, he's never shown anyone this place before – not like he ever had a reason to, seeming as though he's not exactly on good graces with anyone here. But that's how Will prefers it, somewhere he could take a breather and call his own. Somewhere that could temporarily get him away from all the choking riches and the bougie students at this school.

It's clearly abandoned, dusty and untouched for a while. But that's what Will loves about it, because it's normal. There's no prosperity in a place like this, and it's something that puts him at ease.

"Woah," Nico breathes as he glimpses up at the sky, and yeah, it's one of Will's favourite things too. The clear view of the night sky above them, stars out and blazing in the darkness.

"Yeah," Will agrees, leaning against one of the grey walls.

Nico comes over to stand beside him, nudging his shoulder playfully. "And here I was thinking that you were just some over-achieving goody-goody."

I am. Will thinks, but he instead he just makes a show of rolling his eyes.

"Come sit," he tells him, shucking off his blazer to drape it across the concrete floor. Not bringing a blanket to sit on was stupid of him, especially considering how cold it is out these days.

So there they sit, side by side, with cool beers in their hands and the even cooler air biting against their exposed forearms. They sip their drinks slowly, and even though Will doesn't really enjoy its acrid taste on his tongue, he finds himself taking more and more swigs as they talk their way into the night.

"This is nice," Nico hums, and at some point within the last hour his head had found Will's shoulder as the perfect place to lean against. The contact sets him alight, but he tries his best not to let it show. He doesn't want to make any of this weird for him, especially not now when what they have is so undeniably easy.

Besides, Will's sure that it's just so Nico could warm himself up a little bit, or at the very least because Will's shoulder is far more comfortable than the hard wall they have their backs up against. It'd be so easy to imagine a different intent, but building up false hope now will only precede to a crushing disappointment later, so there's no use in matching up the loose threads of their friendship.

"This place is nice," Nico adds.

"Yeah, I found it during like my first term here," Will explains, feeling selfish as he shuffles a little closer into Nico. "I'm pretty sure no one else even knows about this place, I've never seen anyone up here before."

"It's peaceful. Open. Nice." Nico drawls before tilting his chin to face the sky. "Stars remind me of home."

"Home?" Will ventures.

He feels the boy nod against him. "Venice," he elaborates. "Lived there for nearly most of my life. Me and my sister would climb onto our neighbour's balcony and make up constellations cause we never knew any of the names."

"You're Italian?"

Nico turns to face him with narrowed eyes. "You're telling me you didn't already know?"

"Well, I knew you had some sort of Italian heritage – given your surname and all, maybe the accent," says Will. "But I didn't realise you actually lived there."

"Yeah, well..." Nico turns back to look out into the starry distance with a sigh. "It was a long time ago."

They settle into silence for a few moments. Will takes another sip and savours the way its warmth settles in his stomach.

"Why'd you move?" he asks, apparently having so semblance of privacy or boundaries in his slightly tipsy state. "If you don't mind me asking."

"You ever heard of Hades Incorporated?"

The question catches Will off guard. But it's a ridiculous question in the first place, who hasn't heard of Hades Inc.?

"Of course I have."

"Yeah, well. Hades is my dad."

"He— he is!?" Will splutters out, thrown completely off kilter for a moment. Although he knew Nico must have come from some sort of upper-class background like everyone else in this god forsaken school, he would've never put his money on that person being one of the wealthiest beings on this Earth. "Nico that's just— that's insane!"

However Nico doesn't match his enthusiasm at all, just tucking his legs up into his arms and mumbles into the rim of his drink. "Yeah," he says bitterly. "I guess it is."

Will side eyes him, hopes he isn't being overbearing when he asks, "You wanna talk about it?"

For a second, Will thinks he's ruined it. Crossed a line and destroyed the moment when he's just met with silence. But then Nico takes a deep breath.

"I was twelve when my mother and sister died," he begins quietly, tracing lines through the condensation on the neck of his bottle. "We never grew up around... all this. Money and that stuff, you know? I mean... we weren't starved or anything, but we certainly weren't well-off. My mother was a local seamstress and we managed with what we had. We were happy."

A tiny, fond smile curls around the edges of Nico's lips. "My sister's name was Bianca, and she was usually the one to keep me out of trouble when our mother was at work. She was just— amazing, and I loved her. I remember I always felt bad cause I used to think she only spent time with me cause she had to, you know? And that I was just keeping her from her friends... But I look back on it now and think it's ridiculous, because she never once acted like it. She was always so kind and patient with me."

"She sounds wonderful, Nico."

"Yeah, she is... was. And she would've loved you," Nico chuckles hoarsely. "You're both the same: smart, motivated, driven, exceedingly kind. You know she was the one who first taught me English? You two would've gotten along so well."

Will's lucky that it's dark since it does just enough to hide the blush rising on his cheeks. He's not too sure what he's done to earn such high praise from Nico, but regardless it makes his heart beat a little faster.

"I think we would've gotten along well because of how fond we are of you," Will admits, a little too honestly.

Nico melts into his side at the comment, and Will can't help how his arm automatically goes to wrap around his shoulders.

"My mother grew sick though," he continues after a while. "Doctors had found out about it ahead of time, but treatments were expensive. Bianca picked up a job at the same tailors my mother was at and tried to make it work."

"Nico..."

"But one day they just never made it home. My mother had a small seizure at the wheel, and the accident wiped them both out."

There's no motive besides offering comfort when Will tugs Nico even tighter into his embrace. "Gods Nico, that's... awful. They deserved so much better."

"I was only twelve, you know? I went to their funeral with a babysitter to escort me, I didn't feel like I could cry with all those strangers around me. It was pathetic."

But then Nico's demeanour starts to change. His body grows tense against his, a slight snarl on his lips. "Then straight after the funeral I was shoved into this private jet. I flew ten hours not knowing what the hell was going on until I landed in America, and this guy I'd only ever seen on billboards introduced himself as my fucking dad."

"After that, my life changed. I was suddenly being spoilt left and right, I had this massive room with a bed five times larger than I needed, and silk sheets that I knew must've been so fucking expensive cause of how my mother used to take extra care of silk at work. I had butlers following me around everywhere, getting paid to play with me and tie my shoelaces. And then there were the cameras, and it had been all over the news for months: Miracle father Hades finally reunited with long lost son. The media sensationalised it, ate that shit right up."

Will's mind suddenly sparks with the memory. It had a long time ago, but he recalls reading about it back when he was doing paper rounds over that one summer. The story of the philanthropist millionaire and his found son had made the cover page for so long. It was practically impossible to miss.

"And the worst thing," Nico downright sneers. "Is that people came up to me and told me how lucky I was. How they could only dream to be in my shoes. How I just got everything handed over to me on a silver platter."

"So that's why you never told anyone who your parents were. You didn't want that attention."

A small nod against his shoulder confirms it. "I just... I think about it a lot. How Hades knew. Had all that money, and— the absolute tiniest fraction of his wealth would've been way more than enough for my mother's treatment. They would still be alive, Will."

Will opens and closes his mouth several times, the weight of the words sitting upon his tongue don't even provide a portion of the grief Will wants to convey.

"I wish I could say something that would fix this all for you Nico..." he ends up telling him with as much sincerity as he could muster. "You of all people in the world least deserve to live with a burden like that."

Nico's thoughtful hum swirls with the wind before he lifts his drink to his lips once more and pulls back with a rueful smile. "Yeah, well... Sorry for going all sob-story on you, Solace," he announces all of a sudden with a tone forcibly more exuberant, lifting his head from his shoulder and Will instantly finds himself missing its warmth. "This was supposed to be a celebration."

"I don't mind."

"I know you don't," Nico admits softly, with an even softer smile to match. "That's why I like you."

Under the night sky, the starlight catches in his hair and casts him in a silvery glow that only emphasises that angelic image Will already has of him. There should be a harshness to the way it also carves out shadows in the hollows of his cheeks, but the rosy tint to his skin from the bitter cold only makes him all that more alluring.

He's so stunning. Will lets his gaze sweep across his face in a way he's never allowed himself before, because who knows when he'll ever get a chance like this again?

Nico is a figment of personified beauty, from the way the tips of his dark eyelashes have frosted over to the how the moonlight shimmers in his eyes.

And god, have his lips always been that pink? He's always subtly admired the graceful dip of them, and how gorgeous they are when they're stretched into one of those rare smiles, but this is something else...

If Will was more sober, perhaps he'd spare more of a thought towards how mindlessly staring at your best friend's lips may be a massive give away of the feelings he's kept under lock and key.

But Will isn't sober, so he stares. And stares at the way Nico's tongue darts out to lick across them.

It's as though there's some sort of magnetism between them, a pull that draws them closer and closer until Will can feel Nico's frost-tinged breath fanning his face.

For some reason, Will's eyes slip shut.

He's too distracted to know what to expect, but there's so much hope boiling within him that it threatens to erupt like a volcano and—

—SMASH!

The wind picks up all of a sudden, and Will's bottle sails off the roof.

The moment is shattered instantly, much like the bottle when it hits the ground, as loud as a gunshot in the silence.

"Shit," Will swears, frazzled and trying to recollect his thoughts as he glimpses over the edge of the roof.

"What the..." a painfully familiar voice starts from down below. "Who's up there?!"

"Shit!" and this time it's Nico who hisses out the curse because if Bacchus catches either of them up here, then there's no denying that they're absolutely done for at Yancy Academy.

It's pure instinct, the way they sprint across the roof and fumble their way down the ladder. In his less-than-sober haze, Will almost forgets to snatch up their blazers – its pristine material now caked in dust, but Will barely even spares it a glance in his desperation.

Somehow, they make it to their room undetected and with Will's heart threatening to beat out his chest. He presses his back against the door he slammed shut as if a professor is going to barge in any moment and demand them to pack their things. Will may not like it much at Yancy, but he's certainly got no other place to go.

"Calm down, Will. We're fine," Nico reassures, his cheeks flushed red, and a wide grin spread across his lips. There's no doubt that Nico thrives off this sort of mischief, and Will's not sure how much higher his blood pressure can go before he ends up imploding – solely due to this boy who's managed to worm his way into his heart.

"You're going to kill me," Will mutters as if it's a joke, but the blond fears that it's actually a very likely outcome to this all.

But with the way Nico laughs at that, Will suddenly decides it's fine because there are definitely worse ways to die.

~*~

"Will," Nico says for the third time now. "I swear to God I'll rip out the pages of your textbooks if I have to."

"Then I'll look forward to my reimbursement," Will replies, though not tearing his eyes from the diagram for a second. "And you can go explain to Mrs Em why she won't be getting her overdue books back any time soon."

Nico scoffs. "As if Medusa wouldn't let you off even if you burnt this entire library to the ground."

"Stop calling her that."

"I'll stop calling her that if you stop blowing your brains out over organic chemistry," Nico retorts.

A mousy haired third year sitting across them shoots him a dirty look, Will huffs and tries to shush Nico a little.

Nico pouts childishly in retaliation, gives it two minutes of sitting back and rocking on his chair before he leans in close once again.

"Please, Will," Nico whispers into the shell of his ear, and sure he may be quiet now, but Will's sudden and erratic heartbeat could probably be heard all across the grounds. "I'm so bored, let's go do something else."

"Le— let me finish this chapter."

"You said that two chapters ago—!"

"—Shush!" Mrs Em hushes sharply, popping out of seemingly nowhere and fixing them with a glare so severe it roots them to the spot.

When she turns back to her shelves, only then does Will feel like he can breathe.

"See!" Nico whisper hisses. "Medusa!"

~*~

Money had never been a common comfort in Will's life. It's the basic kind of sob story: heroin addict mothers and benefit money and part-time jobs between school. In a morbid sort of light, he thinks that it's actually a blessing in disguise – Will has no idea where his work ethic and motivation would've come from if he didn't wake up every day to a passed-out woman on the stairs. A constant reminder of exactly who he didn't want to be when he grew up.

Teachers at his old school had been impressed, but the school was poorly funded and smack bang in the middle of a shit town, population 8,000. Their goal was to help students achieve the minimal amount of qualifications before scurrying them off to find an average job. Higher education was a joke, and dreams only remained dreams.

It was only when Will started doing paper-rounds one summer that he found the headline. No one else would've even batted an eyelash at it, having already resigned themselves to a life of mediocracy. But to Will it was like he struck gold. Yancy Academy. Contextual offer. Funding. Highly competitive application. Scholarship.

A one in a million chance, he remembers someone scoffing. But a one in a million chance was better than no chance at all, and Will would give it his all if it meant getting out of this shithole.

And somehow, he managed it. That whole year went by in a blur. By the end of it Will was packing his very small bag for a better life and was saying goodbye to the shell of his mother who was too lucid to even recognise her own son.

Growing up where he did, Will wasn't naïve enough to think he'd be accepted with open and gracious arms. Although money certainly does talk, every student here was admitted based on their intellect too, so there would be nothing setting Will apart from the rest besides his ragged clothes and southern accent.

And, well. Snobby rich boys will be snobby rich boys.

~*~

He really needs a haircut, is the forefront thought that pushes its way into Will's mind one Wednesday afternoon.

They're both in uniform as they've both got lessons next period, Will has chemistry and Nico has – the quote-unquote "bane of his existence" – economics.

Nico's hair has teetered the line of regulation for a while now. It's always been scruffy, but in an imperfectly perfect sort of way only Nico could actually pull off. As he's got his head bent over the desk, scribbling some notes on a page, his overgrown bangs spills over his eyes. Will can't help but examine the way his dark hair curls ever-so-slightly at the ends.

I bet it's even softer than it looks, is the second forefront thought that pushes its way into Will's mind that same Wednesday afternoon.

And then, as if the gods sense his suffering and want to add to it a little more, Nico yawns. He stretches his back and pulls loose the elastic Will didn't even realise was sitting on his wrist. Will doesn't get a chance to prepare himself before Nico gathers up all his hair and ties it off into an extremely sloppy ponytail and suddenly puts a lot of neck on display.

Will would not like to announce what the third forefront thought that pushes into his mind was as he excuses himself to the bathroom.

As he shuts the door behind him, Will swears he hears the slightest hint of Nico's chuckle.

~*~

Love, Will would later recall whenever he looks back on the situation, makes you do stupid things.

Of course, he doesn't know it yet. So, when turns the corner into the library to see Nico seething with blood on his knuckles, and Octavian doubled over and cupping what looks to be a broken nose, Will has no idea what the fuck just happened.

It's chaos. Students are shoving around just to catch a glimpse. Mrs Em is yelling her tonsils out, but no one seems to be paying her any mind. Will's pretty sure he catches a camera flash, but either way the racket definitely means Bacchus is going to come charging in soon and raise hell.

Octavian, from where he's whimpering and huddled with his friends, looks up and catches sight of Will and downright sneers – or at least the closest thing you can get to sneering with a broken nose.

"Be useful for once and sort your god damn psychopath boyfriend out," he hisses, but Will is still processing everything.

Nico takes a threatening step forward instead, eyes murderous. "Just say one more word about him. I dare you."

Octavian scowls. "Or you'll wha—"

"What on earth is going on here?!" Bacchus exclaims as he pushes through the crowd with a tempered urgency. Immediately, his eyes land straight onto Will – as if he hasn't only just walked in on the scene – but then his gaze darts around and takes notice of Octavian's bloody nose, and then Nico's dark glare and clenched fists.

The students are silent, no one daring to even flinch. "Mr di Angelo, Mr Augustus, please follow me to my—"

"Wait this isn't fair! he hit—!"

"Enough, Octavian," Bacchus snaps. "My office. Now. You too, Mr di Angelo. And unless the rest you want to join us, I suggest you start heading to your next period this instant."

The sound of shuffling feet fills the library as the students slowly begin to disperse, but Will stays rooted to the spot, staring at Nico who seems to be resolutely avoiding his eyes. Will can tell he's trying to hide behind his hair as he stares at the tip of his toes, following Bacchus trail with a slate expression.

Will doesn't see him again for hours.

~*~

Will's lying upon his bed when the door opens. The sheets are untidy and he's trying to study but his mind doesn't stop spinning.

That's why he's so relieved to see Nico walk in and not already booted half-way across the country. There's a scowl etched into his expression, and his hair is a mess, but to be honest Will's never been more glad to see him.

"What the hell happened?" Will demands, jumping off the bed and approaching the boy. When Nico looks at him, Will can see his eyes soften, but there's still anger behind that gaze. "What did you do?"

"What that bastard deserved," Nico grumbles. "Still deserves. I wasn't done with him."

Will instinctively glimpses down and catches sight of Nico's bruised knuckles. He takes his injured hand into his own for further examination. He rubs a soothing thumb over the purpled skin. It looks painful. "Have you seen the nurse about this?"

For some reason, Nico stares at the hand for a few seconds and bows his head. He's trying to hide how his frown edges into a slight smile before shrugging himself out of Will's grasp. "It's not bad, barely even feel it."

Will takes a mental note to check up on it later, but for now he lets it slide. "You know there are better ways to deal with things than punching someone's lights out? I swear, they better not be kicking you out cause I've seen people get expelled for lesser reasons— "

"Don't worry, Hades made a pretty sizeable donation to Yancy being who he is. I don't think I'll be going anywhere anytime soon."

"That's fucked up," Will says. Because it is. Turns out money talks even within one of the richest institutes in the country. But, after a pause, he adds: "Good."

Nico flashes a quick smirk before huffing and stalking across the room to ruffle through his drawers, looking for a comfier change of clothes no doubt. It's been a long day and being in that uniform, no matter how well it fits the boy, is in no way helping.

"So why did you do it?" Will tries to ask casually. And fails.

"He was chatting shit."

Will sympathises, and for a moment assumes the worse. "Oh shit... did he find out about Hades?"

Nico lets out a forced chuckle. "Not about me. About you, Will."

"Oh," Will replies, genuinely surprised. "That's old news. Nico that's not worth almost getting yourself excluded for honestly—"

Nico shuts the drawer and turns around quickly, fixing Will on the spot with a suddenly intense gaze. "You mean he usually talks about you like that?" he snaps. "What the fuck, Will? How long has that been going on?"

"Since I got here?" Will replies, slightly confused. "It's normal though, seriously. I mean, obviously I'd get picked on—"

"No Will," Nico shuts him up with a sharp tone and an accusing finger pointing at his face. "There's nothing obvious about it. You're what represents all the good left in the world, people like Octavian aren't even comparable to you."

Will's chest fills with something warm he can't name, because he doesn't think he's ever felt it before. Elatedness? Endearment? Love? All he knows is that his heart is going to beat out of his damn chest all cause of Nico's words and how close he's standing to him.

"But... it's to be expected," Will tries to argue. He's really not worth as much as Nico claims. "I'm pretty fucking poor, got no class, even the way I talk—"

"Class? You think Octavian has class?" Nico chides hotly. "And your accent? I like it, it sets you apart from the rest of these pretentious bastards. Hell, I'm glad I have one myself."

"Yeah," Will says, apparently no longer thinking. "But your accent is sexy."

Whatever Nico was about to say next dissolves into thin air as his mouth snaps shut. It's only after a shit-eating grin and a cocked, dark eyebrow does Will's brain-to-mouth filter catch up with him and realises what he said.

"I— I mean—" Will stammers hopelessly, the warmth feeling in his chest quickly turning to lead.

Nico looks so incredibly... pleased? "You think my accent is sexy, Will?" he purrs, laying it on thick. "E se parlo italiano? Ti eccita, bellissimo?"

Will swears he has an aneurysm. Shame on Nico, we'll see how much he likes teasing him when it's Nico's name written in Will's medical records under 'cause of death'.

"I swear I didn't mean—"

"Shut up, Will," Nico tells him, before looping his arms around Will's neck and bringing his head down for a kiss.

Will, by some miracle, doesn't short-circuit this time. His eyes slip shut and his hands finds Nico's waist as if he's done it a million times before, and is going to do it a million times more. It feels like second nature, which is why Will isn't afraid to tilt his head for better access, prying Nico's warm lips apart with his own tongue and exploring inside.

When Nico gasps at the intrusion, it feels like a small victory. Payback, even. So Will then vows to pry as many of those tiny noises as he can out of Nico to restore his dignity and fuel his desire simultaneously.

Will's nearly walked the boy up against the wall when there's a sharp knock. Nico, for the first time, panics, and suddenly pushes him away with too much force that should possible from such a wiry body. Will's barely got a moment to gain his bearings when Bacchus enters, announcing an impromptu room inspection.

When he's satisfied, he turns to the two of them. Deep purple eyes narrowed as he claims, "it seems that this whole arrangement wasn't nearly as disastrous as I thought it'd be, hm?"

"No Sir," Will replies, not even trying to repress his smile as Nico winks at him from behind where Bacchus is standing. "I'd say we get along pretty well, actually."

AN:

Hey guys, so I know it's been an extremely long time since my last update. I just wanted to say that this will probably be my last update. I lowkey wanted to say goodbye officially for a while now, but I didn't want you guys to get notifications expecting a new one shot when there wasn't actually one there, so I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. (Even though I know a lot of you guys have already moved on from wattpad now lol)

But yeah, I literally just want to say thank you so much for reading. I'm so grateful. I started these one shots like... what? Almost 3 years ago now?? Believe me, when I was writing that cringe af (don't deny it) first chapter I would've never expected to meet so many lovely people and have readers actually enjoying my content. Every single one of you guys are so kind, and every view, vote and comment encouraged me to keep writing and develop my skills through a journey I'm quite proud of. Yeah, I'll probably never look at my first few chapters ever again out of pure shame, but I'm proud of the progress I've made -- and it's in debt to you guys.

I really hate moving on cause this book means a lot to me. But alas, writing be hard and life be harder. I know it's the lamest excuse in the book, but I've suddenly become very busy these days, and my writing speed of 3 words/hour doesn't really complement.

Thank you guys for honing my incredible experience here. If anyone wants to stay in touch then my DMs are always open. Other than that, I don't really have words to express what I want, so I'll leave it as it is.

Keep shipping solangelo.

All the love,

- Stan