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Nico presses the knife to Will’s throat, but the blond doesn’t even bother fighting him. Will’s fingertips press over the cold floor uselessly, and his body turns slack against Nico’s as he gives into him.
Nico expects Will to protest, to beg for his life, to do something. He almost wants Will to do something. But, instead, all he does is lay there in Nico’s arms, shutting his eyes tight against the misery around him.
“Just do it,” Will whispers, his voice shivering against the icy blade. “This war needs to end at some point, doesn’t it?”
A chill pours over Nico at Will’s words. Is he really going to give up this easily? Is he really going to give up all his hard work and let himself perish?
Is he really going to force Nico to kill him?
“No,” Nico hisses. He bends his face to Will’s neck and tugs his arm tighter against Will’s chest, if only searching for some grip on the world. “No, just- just surrender, Will. You don’t have to die. I don’t have to kill you. Just surrender, and you can end this.”
“Then why don’t you surrender?” snaps Will, daring to twist his head a little. Nico catches a glimpse of the sapphire of his irises, of the glassy film of tears over his eyes. “You could end this just as easily.”
Nico’s breath hitches as a frustrated sob tries to escape his chest. “I don’t have a choice,” he mutters. “I am supposed to protect the gods. I am supposed to be their savior. Do you know the consequences I’ll face if I give up now?”
Will dares to release a laugh. His throat grazes against the cold blade and he hisses as a line of red emerges from his golden skin. “You and I both know you’re just speaking bullshit. You want to get rid of Zeus just as much as I do. You’re just hiding behind your cowardice.”
Nico’s chest heaves as he inhales an angry breath. He pulls his hand closer, edging enough that the blade’s tip just barely touches Will’s neck. The blond shivers in his arms but doesn’t make a move to fight.
An ache of grief presses against Nico’s throat. Tears rise up to his eyes and push against the barricade that he’s built up, but Nico tries to swallow down his emotions.
There is no room for mercy in this war. All he has to do is kill Will, and it will all be over. His kingdom will surrender to Nico and they can return to peace.
A tear slips through Nico’s eye and rolls down his pale cheek. It drips from his chin onto Will’s golden armor, then slips away into some hidden crevice. Nico turns his gaze to the knife in his hand, to the silver blade against Will’s throat, and finally, to Will’s golden skin, which gleams brightly even under the cold shadows of the ruins.
Will shivers with fear against him. His eyes are shut tight again, trying to blind himself from whatever comes in the next few moments.
But nothing can protect him now. There is no mercy.
At the sight of him so beaten and battered, Nico’s heart swells with guilt. His mind aches with every memory that he’s shared with Will, with every touch and sight and smell of the blond’s presence. He remembers Will’s tender touches, his professions of admiration in his ears. He can still feel Will’s love, even now, underneath his fingers.
Nico’s arm tightens around Will’s chest, holding him in place. A strangled sound escapes Will’s lips and his hands try to crawl up to Nico’s arm, but he’s frozen in fear. One wrong move and he’ll get himself killed.
Slowly, Nico moves his blade. It grazes against Will’s throat once more, pressing lightly enough that only a mere string of blood slips through his golden skin. Will’s breathing turns shallow with fear and anticipation, and his tears become superfluous, traveling in thick packets over his bronze freckles and grief-stricken cheeks. His teeth grit together as hot pain blooms against his throat, but he simply lays in Nico’s arms, subjecting himself to the end.
A sob echoes in Nico’s chest; his hand shivers as it slides closer and closer. The air burns with anger and fear, with anticipation and grief. Nico and Will are frozen in time, waiting for something to happen, for something to end.
And Nico tries to finish him. He really does.
But he can’t do it.
The knife clatters to the ground, crimson blood still gleaming over the shining blade.
As another sob racks his body, Nico bows his head against Will’s, searching for comfort in the familiar crook between the blond’s head and neck.
Will’s chest heaves with short, heavy breaths, and his body erupts with goosebumps. He shivers in Nico’s arms, chilled by the fear and the knowledge that he could have killed him.
Will could have lost his life.
Nico pulls his other arm around Will’s chest. His sobs snap in the small spaces between them, filling the air around the boys with cold, hard grief, and Will wants to turn around and hold Nico, to tell him it will all be okay.
But it won’t be.
Nothing will ever be okay again.
Will’s own sobs bubble out of his chest. With every heave of Nico’s breath, Will’s heart lurches. He anxiously peels Nico’s arms away and breaks away from his prison of grief, surprised at how easily Nico’s letting him go.
In his newfound freedom, Will twists around, trying to face the child of Hades in his sorrow. Underneath the shadows, Nico seethes with anger and guilt, his emotions spilling out of him with every sob that cracks through his body. Tears glimmer against his porcelain face and his lips quiver as he gazes at Will.
For a brief second, Will glimpses his raging love. Nico’s obsidian eyes blaze with a passion he has never once seen from the cold king. At the sight of him, Will’s heart swells with a sudden hunger for Nico’s touch.
He starts to lean in, but Nico beats him to it. His body crashes into Will’s golden embrace and both of them fall to the ground, slamming against the cold, hard floor. Passion seethes in the air around them, and in a moment of pure adrenaline, Nico kisses Will.
Their lips spark against each other, fire licking at the edges of their chins. It’s been so long since they’ve held each other, since they’ve felt each other, that it almost feels unreal. They spill into each other's arms and drip into each other’s bodies, yearning for warmth, yearning for shelter in the chaos that surrounds them.
Will’s hand presses against Nico’s armor; Nico’s thumb grazes Will’s chin. They’re falling apart and building up, reforming again and again as they find each other underneath the crumbling ruins.
Nico presses his forehead to Will’s and sighs shakily. A tear falls from his eye and bursts against Will’s nose, chilling his face with another drop of grief. Will wants to flick his sadness away, to hold him through all that’s going on, but he knows that isn’t possible.
After a moment of tense silence, Will decides he needs to say something. “I love you,” he whispers against Nico’s lips. “I- I never got to tell you that.”
He expects Nico to smile, to tell him that he loves him, too. But instead, only a sob cracks against his face, and Will’s chest swells with guilt.
Nico sits up again, his face crumbling as grief consumes him. He shakes his head and holds his face in his hands, hiding himself away from Will’s gaze. “Now you tell me,” he whispers. “The first time you tell me you love me and it’s in the middle of a war in which we’re on opposite sides.”
“We don’t have to be on opposite sides anymore,” Will urges. He sits up, too, and reaches out for Nico’s hand, only to catch empty air when Nico pulls his fingers away angrily. A crack erupts over his heart but he continues talking. “Join me. I know you don’t like Zeus. I have faith we can overthrow him together.”
Nico shakes his head, but his eyes blaze with anger and frustration. He knows Will’s right. Things have been looking wonderful for him, and there’s a high chance that the Rebellion really will win.
Silence pulses in the air. Each breath that Will takes burns his chest, as if he’s inhaling lava; each breath that Nico takes feels cold and harsh, like ice stabbing him through the lungs. They’re on two different sides, drifting on two different planes.
Were they ever meant to meet in the middle?
Finally, Nico’s shoulders slump. He takes a final breath, holding himself against the icy pain, and looks at Will again. A cold glaze comes over his obsidian eyes.
He leans in and kisses Will again, but there’s something different in this act of passion. He’s harsher, colder. Nico’s lips feel like needles.
But Will will take whatever admission of love he can take, even if it hurts him.
When Nico pulls away, his dark eyes blaze with hot anger. He grips Will’s armor and tugs him closer. In a painful, scratchy voice, he hisses, “I can’t decide whether I love you or hate you more."
His armor clanks as he rises shakily. Nico turns his back on Will, and in an instant, Will realizes this might be the last time Nico ever looks him in the eyes again. “You win. I hope you’re happy.”
And with that, he stumbles away, anger seething from every inch of his vulnerable body.
But Will isn’t happy.
He’s far from happy.