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Nico di Angelo is a hungry young man.
Not always, but often enough for him to accept it into his life as a regular staple. A consequence, of sorts, for the path he chose to take.
(Not that he regretted his decision. It was still better than the alternative.)
So, as he walks along the streets of New York (his concrete jungle of the week, he likes to joke. Though, he hasn’t felt like joking in months, so it’s probably more of a sarcastic comment at this point.), and he feels his stomach gurgle loudly for the fifth time in an hour, he is reminded of the unfortunate reality of his situation: Nico di Angelo is a hungry young man.
He tries to avoid the hunger when he can. And while sometimes he gets lucky and manages to scrounge up enough to actually pay for a meal, eating usually means stealing from the nearest convenience store without a metal detector at the front, or dine-and-dashing from the local I-Hop. Or just trying to ignore it with water and sleep.
Luckily, though, today is not one of those days.
When he first crosses the threshold into Hermes Wings and Drinks, one of the hundred dive bars named after olympians that litter the entirety of this city, Nico is fully intending to pay for whatever he can afford (probably not a drink, he doesn’t have an ID, but a burger would be nice) and leave to find somewhere to sleep for the night.
He takes in the scenery- It's nothing special, really, just your average bar with stools for seats leading up to the area where the drinks are served, and booths on the opposite wall for customers with larger groups. Further down, towards the back of the building, there is more open seating, with girls running down the aisles serving customers, and a live band -which appears to have just finished a performance- packing up their instruments.
Nobody notices Nico when he walks in (or so he thinks) and he intends to keep it that way. He just wants to eat and leave.
So imagine his surprise when not even five minutes after he sits down, he is approached by a blond haired young man who offers to buy him a drink.
Well. Not exactly.
Instead, the man walks up to him, takes a deep breath, and says, “I’m in love with you.”
A beat passes. Then two. Then three.
Internally, Nico’s jaw drops, but he knows better than to make such a public display of what he's feeling in front of a complete stranger. A. Complete. Stranger. His eye twitches a little (of course he couldn’t get a singular normal night. Of course.) and he takes a minute to process what he just heard. He looks around quickly to see if the blond could be talking to anyone else, and vaguely catches sight of a taller man with salt and pepper hair shaking his head from behind the bar, an exasperated expression on his face.
“What?” Nico almost sighs, confirming that the guy in front of him is, in fact, talking to him.
“Will you go out with me?” The blond asks, despite neither of them being in high school anymore (at least Nico didn’t think he was in high school. Is that why he's acting this way?).
“Um,” Nico feels a little like he's losing his mind. He doesn’t know how to approach this situation. He doesn’t even really know what’s going on. He’s used to being ignored in places like this, and he thinks he would definitely prefer that to whatever is happening right now. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”
“I’m Will. Solace,” he holds his hand out for Nico to shake, a weird gesture from someone who just confessed his love for him and then asked him out on a date.
Nico doesn’t take his outstretched hand, instead leaning back and relaxing a little, trying to regain a bit of control over the situation or his emotions or anything at all. For once, he hoped his face betrayed what he was feeling in the moment- which was much skepticism, and maybe a slight bit of amusement purely due to the absurdity of the last few minutes. He took a moment to get a good look at the person in front of him- Will, he said.
Will had short, curly blond hair that reached around the nape of his neck, with bangs in front that only halfway covered his bright blue eyes. Really, really blue eyes. He had freckles, and was surprisingly tan, despite it being the near end of winter. He looked like he belonged in summer, like he was made from it, and was just dragged along to experience the other seasons too. He looked around Nico's age, maybe a year older, and his eyes never seemed to leave Nico, as much as he wanted them too (or didn’t want them too. He hadn't decided. What is happening???). “Okay Will Solace. I’m Nico.”
“That’s a beautiful name. It sounds like a song,” Will says, though he doesn't elaborate on how, exactly, his name could sound like anything but a name.
“Is that what you are? A singer?”
“And I play the guitar,” Will remarks, a bit of pride slipping into his voice.
“So you’re broke then. As are most aspiring musicians who spend all their time in bars.”
‘Um-” Will’s expression shatters and he freezes from where he stands in front of him, clearly caught off guard by the sudden accusation, yet not knowing how to rebuff it.
So I’m right then, Nico thinks, and he tries not to laugh as Will visibly tries to regain his previous momentum.
“Look, Will,” Nico starts, trying to let the guy down easy, “I’ve met a lot of guys like you, and I’m sure you’re very good at what you do. I’m just not looking for a relationship right now, so-”
“But I'm not like those other guys,” Will explains, confident again like this was the truest statement in the world. Nico isn’t so sure.
But before he can reject him again, a little harsher this time, a voice speaks up from behind him,
“He isn’t like anyone you’ve ever met.”
Nico jumps and looks over his shoulder to find the salt-and-pepper haired guy from before. The bartender, by the looks of the apron over his clothes.
Great. Now there's two of them, Nico laments, is no one in this bar normal?
Sensing Nico’s rising suspicion in both of them, the bartender turns to Will and says, “Tell him what you're working on,” before moving to go tend to some other customers.
Remembering, Will suddenly perks up and explains, “I’m working on a song.”
“It isn’t finished yet, but when it's done, and when I sing it, spring will come again.”
“We have spring every year,” Nico exclaims, only being a little bit difficult, because they both seem to know that spring hasn’t felt the same in years.
Especially not to Nico.
“‘Spring’ is a metaphor. It's a season of rebirth and new beginnings and life. And my song will bring that to people.”
“Life?” Nico asks, more than a little difficult this time.
“Joy,” Will explains, and his eyes start to light up like he can already see what it will be like. Nico might find it cute, under different circumstances.
“It will give people strength,” Will continues, with more excitement than before, and he sits on the table in right front of nico, hands moving quickly as he talks, “It will bring relief from the harsh winter and preparation for the incoming summer. It will give people something to listen to when they need to relax, something to help them breathe a little easier. It will make them happy again.”
“Really,” Nico says, head resting on his hand, still skeptical but more than a little interested, “because I haven't felt any of those things in ages.” He says that with some melancholy, because he can remember exactly the last time he felt like that. And he can remember exactly when it stopped.
“Thats what I'm working on,” Will brightens even more, a smile coming again to his features. It seemed to light up the whole room. “A song so beautiful, it will bring people together. Bring the world back together.” He stopped for a beat as he seemed to imagine what it would be like. The lights from the surrounding bar and seating areas danced in his eyes, and Nico sat staring at him for a moment, entranced, before snapping back to reality and reminding himself that he and Will were still pretty much complete strangers.
“It could bring us together too,” he suddenly snapped out of whatever daydream he fell into and reached out to hand Nico a paper flower he must have made out of napkins. Nico had no idea where it came from. But the next thing Will said shocked him even more than the flower and the song combined.
Will lowered himself off the table, a combination of seriousness and anticipation on his face. Slowly, he lowers himself onto one knee, and before Nico can stop him, he says,
“I would probably sing it at our wedding.”
Another three beats pass, and then Nico starts laughing. Loudly.
He’s crazy, Nico thinks internally, as he barks out a laugh, and then another. The only thing he can do, really, as he doesn’t trust himself to speak. I've been targeted by a madman and all I wanted was some fries.
Still reeling from his sudden laughing fit and the insanity of Will’s words, Nico manages to choke out, “And why would I marry you?”
Will doesn’t answer, but something inside Nico compels him to continue the conversation. This is the most fun he’s had in a while anyway. Maybe Nico’s a little crazy too.
“Okay, I’ll bite. And who exactly is gonna pay for this wedding. Because I don't exactly have the funds.”
“I could earn it playing gigs,” Will says earnestly, sitting down across from him, “and through donations.”
“Donations?” Nico questions, incredulous.
Will shrugs, “People are generous when they’re happy.”
Well, Nico can’t argue with that. He had earned a lot of his funds over the past few years through the generosity of others.
“Okay,” Nico continues, “Then what about living arrangements? I can’t imagine your place could be that great under a singer's salary.” After all, he never did deny the broke allegations from earlier.
“Actually,” Will corrects him, “I do have a place. I’m friends with the owner here, he knew my mom or something. He lets me stay in the apartment above this building for free.”
“And, like I said,” He leans in a little, not too close, but close enough that Nico could count the freckles that lay splattered across the bridge of his nose, if he wanted to. Not that he would do that. Will’s tone is conspiratorial as he continues, “People are generous when they’re happy. I’m sure we could figure something out.”
Nico isn’t sure how ‘we’ll figure it out’ counts as reassurance, but he’s somehow not surprised by the confidence in his tone. “You really believe that this song of yours will solve all of our problems?” Nico asks with a laugh. He was laughing a lot today. Huh.
Will is looking at him when he stops laughing, and he has that gleam in his eye again, like he was imagining something beautiful. Nico wanted to get closer and see what it was.
“Yeah,” Will starts, but he never breaks eye contact, “I do.”
“Then why don’t you sing it?” Nico leans in a little too, challenging him.
Will is the one who steps down this time, and leans back, saying, “It isn’t finished yet.”
“Sing it,” Nico asks again, slightly commanding, but Will just laughs a little, nervously, despite his earlier confidence.
Nico sits back in his chair and spreads his legs, leaning both of his arms on the armrests to either side of him, and tilts his head to the side to expose the pale column of his neck.
“You wanna take me home?” Nico asked, his voice low compared to what it had been less than 30 seconds ago. He hoped he sounded provocative enough to convince him- it has been a while- but his actions appeared to have the desired effect, given how Will went red from his neck to his ears and swallowed quickly, with much effort.
“Yes,” Will confesses, reverently, like Nico was something holy and not some random guy he met 15 minutes ago.
At the confirmation, Nico's legs snap quickly closed and he leans in again.
“Sing the song.”
Will hesitates for a moment before reluctantly getting up and crossing over to the other side of the bar to grab his guitar, strumming it slightly to make sure it’s in tune.
Nico followed him with his eyes, half wondering if he would actually follow through. It wasn’t like the bar was empty or anything- it wouldn’t be the first time a guy made false promises to try and take him home.
But then he started to sing, and the world came alive.
The whole bar turned to look at Will as he began the first note, and the whole building seemed to hold its breath. Even Nico felt a little starstuck after hearing the first 5 seconds.
The song was…
It was like the first drops of rain after months of snow.
It was like the first bird hatching after spending an entire season locked in a shell, and then beginning to sing.
It was like green grass, and fresh flowers, and enough food to never feel hungry again, or at
least enough to last you until the next move.
It was spring.
It was spring in a world that, recently, had only felt blazing hot or freezing cold.
It was spring in a world that was made up of heated factories, flashing lights, metal machinery, and all of it living directly under his cold hands.
It was spring in a world where Nico was sure he would only have a winter and a summer for the rest of his life.
And as he walked through the dingy old bar, guitar in hand, singing the beautiful song that he had apparently just come up with, Will Solace made spring come again.
And as Will moved toward him, he brought something with him that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
He brought him comfort. Warm, precious comfort.
And for the first time in a while, Nico felt strangely safe, in this dingy old bar, in the middle of New York, with the boy who just confessed to him despite knowing him for less than 20 minutes.
And then the song was finished.
The whole bar erupted into a wave of applause, instantaneous and strong, like this was a regular occurrence that none of them wanted to cease. Like they had all felt the same things Nico felt, finding comfort in the voice of a 20-something in the middle of a New York dive bar.
And when the applause finally died down to the regular hum of half-drunk patrons, Nico dragged Will to the side (not quite touching him, just grabbing his sleeve), and asked him, “How did you do that?”
It was a vague question, and it could have referred to any matter of things; The applause from the previously uncaring patrons; the beautiful sound of Will's voice; the strange, fervent beating coming from Nico’s own chest-
(Stop it, Nico scolded himself, even though he wasn’t really sure if he actually wanted it to stop.)
Maybe Will was also confused by the question, because he simply repeated what he had said earlier when Nico first asked him to sing for him- a little shyly, this time, while dragging a hand through his hair.
“It isn’t finished yet,” he said, a blush creeping up his face from the awe in Nico’s voice that he hadn’t meant to let slip. Still, he continued staring at Nico, intensely, like he was the only thing Will could see. The only thing Will wanted to see.
“Still,” Nico turned and gestured to the rest of the bar, “it can do all this?” He took it all in; the customers who were suddenly in much higher spirits than before, socializing and talking to each other, an overall sense of ease having fallen over the room.
And before Will could respond, Nico turned around and told him over his shoulder, “You have to finish it.”
The determination in Nico’s voice gave Will a lump in his throat, but he swallowed it and nodded heavily, saying nothing.
But his eyes, filled with an innocence that bordered on naivety, betrayed the real meaning that lay dormant in his brain, almost like it had been waiting for this very moment to show itself and never leave.
Anything for you.