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honeyandbloodpoetry · 3 years

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Gender Thoughts Pt 1 and 2

The first time I put a binder on, a little under a week ago, I felt euphoric. Ever since I hit puberty very early on, I felt uncomfortable with my breasts. They never felt right on me, and even though I’ve come to love them sometimes, they still don’t always feel like they match up. I hated how people always looked at them, pointed out how much they showed in low cut shirts when I never even noticed they were--or even wanted them to. They were just there. I liked the way low cut shirts feel and look on me, I just can’t help these giant sacks of flesh that sit on my chest.

Except...now I can! I ran my hands over my smooth chest, feeling bright. I looked into the mirror, and felt something warm wash over me. I put on my new masculine clothes, letting my partner clip on my new suspenders. I realized that I was shaking as I looked at myself again… I looked like a boy. I felt like a boy. Like a man. And I liked it. I wanted it. Admitting that to myself was like coming home.

I remember being in sixth grade, walking around the track for my civil air patrol class. I had been slotted in with the rest of the girls, the boys walking ahead of us. I remember feeling uncomfortable being shoved in with only girls, and looking at the gaggle of boys ahead. The exact thought that whispered in my brain was “I wish I was a boy. I want to be like them, with them.” I never forgot that moment, and how strange it made me feel. How it was easier to shake that thought away, and dismiss those feelings. Except they never really left, did they?

I remember sitting on my bed, crying with my best friend kneeling in front of me. I remember telling her how I didn’t like feeling like a woman all the time. That I wished I could be a black shadow, monstrous, androdynous. Specifically like Venom. She took my hand, did my makeup all in black and helped me pick out the perfect black outfit to achieve that dark, gothic look. I was so incredibly happy and validated. But I still felt like something was missing.

I remember going into an Adam and Eve for laugh, not expecting much since I am an asexual with a low libido. I remember seeing packers and feeling my chest tighten. I never liked my genitalia--I had wished for a cloaca or something akin to that, but since that was biologically impossible for a human… I sometimes wished I had the opposite of a vagina. I frequently imagined what it would be like to have a penis. I frequently lamented the fact that I didn’t have one. I took the box up to the counter to ask some questions, my dress swishing as I went. The cashier told me it was for trans people only, and a girl like me couldn’t have it. She didn’t know what asexuality was, and had tried polyamory once but decided it was bad when her girlfriend kissed her boyfriend. I was upset, disheartened, and left the store empty handed feeling frustrated and lost.

I remember finally cutting the long, curly locks that had frustrated and imprisoned me for so long. Seeing all of my hair fall to the floor, staring into the mirror as the barber buzzed the back of my head… It made me want to cry tears of joy. It was the first time in my entire life that I had looked at my hair and was happy. The first time I could look in the mirror and feel like myself. Then I remember wanting to go shorter, and my barber encouraging me to keep it a little longer so I didn’t look manly, so I could still be soft and feminine. The way my stomach dropped and the sick feeling in my chest only increased when he began to make fun of the gay men who came down the street near his favorite restaurant. I never saw that barber again. I instead found a nice local place down the road from my apartment, where the kind lady cut it all off without question, other than “Why?” and accepted my warm “It makes me happy. It makes me feel beautiful.”

But wearing that binder for the first time? It was as if a beam of light had funneled its way directly into my heart. I felt like a handsome man, with just a little bit of striking man boob, and it felt so right. My partner called me a dashing boy and my heart began to race. I still feel his hand tracing my jawline as he called me handsome, and the butterflies it sent up through my belly, even after more than eleven years.

I love my partner--he identifies as agender and primarily masculine, and has been on the lookout for a good pair of size thirteen shoes to wear with a dress. They also wear joggers and flip flops and graphic tees and can’t seem to stop talking about the ocean and outer space. They’re probably one of my biggest inspirations for finding myself, and being authentically me.

I’m not super sure who or what I am right now. I’m still figuring that out, but I’m pretty sure I’m somewhere between agender and genderfluid. I feel like me more than anything else, but all pronouns make me feel good. I feel like all of them and none of them at once, but I swing between wanting to be feminine and masculine pretty strongly, though I enjoy being masculine most of all--even when I’m wearing dresses and pink. I feel like a beautiful person in a dress or a button down, no matter what gender I feel like today or tomorrow.

I am me. And I am one dashing boy, and one beautiful girl.

4 July 2021

XXX

Since first writing this little essay, I’ve been doing a lot more examination of my gender. I have come to the conclusion that I am transmasc and nonbinary, and am shaky on the title of genderfluid. I am feeling less and less like a woman--if anything, occasionally adjacent to a woman rather than actually being one. I love feeling like and presenting as a man. I have my first appointment with a gender services doctor at my local community clinic for consultation on starting hrt testosterone. I am planning to start with low dose first, and see how I feel.

I am still unsure of my exact identity, but I have found great euphoria with being and presenting as a man. I love being a man and everything that entails. I have loved myself like never before. Being with my partner is amazing, and he has been endlessly supportive--even recounting little things they had noticed throughout the years. One of the funniest being that I only ever referred to my body parts--my belly, hands, hair, genitalia--with masculine pronouns. I always seemed to see my body as male even if I had a certain sort of dissonance from it.

Coming out has been difficult. I have had both positive and negative experiences from it. I have been told going on testosterone would be self harm, and that I can’t be something I’m not. I’ve had coworkers I trusted out me without my permission. But I have also had positive affirmation, polite questions, and discussions. I am terrified to tell my mother and her boyfriend--I have no idea how they will react and am terrified that I will be disrespected and disowned.

But I am prepared to do whatever it takes to be my happiest and most authentic self.

I have been binding a lot more often, wearing sports bras for long shifts at work, and occasionally going without either when I feel like letting my man boobs hang free. I’ve had the delightful experience of going to a men’s big and tall store and finally wearing pants. I grew up as a fat girl and felt as if I had to perform high femininity to be taken seriously and be treated well--and had been told by someone I trusted that I was too fat to wear pants, which I heavily internalized. So I had completely cast them away in favor of dresses and skirts, bows and gaudy jewelry. Realizing that I could wear pants was...totally wild. That I could be comfortable and look good in pants and shorts, and that it didn’t matter what people did or thought of me was life changing. Maybe I’ll feel like being feminine again someday, but right now this masculinity and masculine clothing, with perhaps the added spice of funky earrings, feels like home.

I also grew up autistic and with PCOS, both which I think have affected my gender identity. Being autistic, I truly struggled to connect to others socially, and especially to understand societal norms. Being a proper woman felt like I was making up for everything else I was lacking--I may have been awkward, semi-verbal and weird with no friends, but at least I was cute and girlish. I never connected to womanhood though, and always felt out of place no matter how hard I tried. With PCOS, I had heightened testosterone, which meant wider breasts and shoulders, a lack of periods, and excessive body hair. I recall the endocrinologist asking high school age me if I had excessive body hair around my stomach, breasts, etc. and my mother jumping to say no I didn’t...even though I did. I remember suddenly feeling very self aware and ashamed of something completely natural, and even something I started to enjoy. I started shaving my entire body then.

I even remember being in middle school, and thinking nothing of my hairy legs. In fact, I loved my body hair and how it felt. A rude girl began making fun of me though, tutting her tongue as she cooed, “Aw, does your mommy not let you shave?” Among other things, all throughout many years of severe bullying and abuse. I remember feeling ashamed, but not knowing why, and immediately shaving my legs, covering them in nicks from my shaky and unsteady hands, that same night.

So many things set me back in my gender expression. So many things contributed to me willful ignorance and denial. I remember wanting to be butch, and everyone in my life laughing at me and saying I was too soft for that. That sweet, sharp ache in my chest. I remember going to a salad bar with my mother, wearing a button up and telling her I wanted to wear some more boyish clothes around that same time--I had already told her that I was bi sometime earlier. I remember her lip curling, looking uncomfortable, and telling me that I better not become one of those boy girls. My late father was very vocal in denouncing homosexuality and specifically men loving men--something which always sat horribly wrong with me on a deeper level.

I think I might ending up being a trans man. I am still unsure and figuring myself out, but I struggle greatly with the autistic need for sameness vs. the trans need for change. My sapphic love of women has always been very important to me, and fully becoming a man rather than genderfluid is scary for that very reason. I am still navigating my identity and what it means to me and my reality--but no matter what, being a man, being masculine is integral to who I am.

I was called a “sir” at a job interview for the first time the other day, and nearly began to bawl from sheer joy. The gender euphoria from that and so many moments is worth so much more to me than the years of suffering and ignorance and my ongoing struggles with dysphoria. I finally got a packer and have had help from my partner in learning to position it properly--I am thinking of cutting my hair even shorter. I have almost perfected a pretty basic tie tying skill. Okay, not really, but I’m getting there. I feel deep inside that even though my father loved me, he would not like who and what I am. Still, I wear the last watch he ever wore, and hope to be a good man like him--and to learn from the toxic parts of him to be an even better man.

I am very excited to start hrt. I am terrified of hair loss and vaginal atrophy, but I look forward to so much more. I cannot wait for bottom growth and body hair, for the voice drop that will hopefully get me misgendered less. I have always felt disconnected from my voice and look forward to getting to know it better as it changes with me. I look forward to meeting with new facial hair. Working out and growing muscle. I just look forward to my second puberty and becoming more like myself. I look forward to navigating and exploring my gender even further, both with loved ones, support groups, and myself.

More than anything, I am just happy to be me.

25 August 2021

#transmasc #ftm #ftx #gender #genderqueer #transgender #trans #lgbt #lgbtq #trans man #nonbinary #genderfluid #poets of tumblr #spilled thoughts #gender expression #low dose t #hrt

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loving-barnes · 6 years

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SHELTER – STEVE ROGERS

(A/N): This one (which still can be found on my wattpad) was originally written for Seb but since I’ve realised that I am not comfortable writing fanfiction with actors, I have rewritten this and made it into a Steve Rogers one-shot. So... enjoy!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x f!reader

Summary: The whole Avengers team goes to Met Gala and Steve and Y/N have their moment.

Warning: fluff

Words: 3100+

FULL MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST

SHELTER – STEVE ROGERS

When Tony announced that the team would be attending the famous Met Gala, (Y/N) got very excited and couldn’t wait for the big day. It was because this was her first Met Gala. Ever since she became a part of the Avengers family, she attended parties and festivals with the team – or mostly with Tony because for a moment she could feel like a star. Not that she was a diva like Tony, no. She just wanted to live her life fully and enjoy every moment. This time, the whole team, and not only Tony, was going to the Gala too. Y/N forced them a little – mostly the male part of their group.

“(Y/N) are you ready?” Natasha shouted from the living room. The two of them and Wanda were settled in a hotel room, preparing for the night. There was a hairdresser, a makeup artist and also a stylist who brought all the dresses that were paid by Tony. “Get out of the bathroom! We have to leave in fifteen minutes and I really need to use the bathroom! And no, I’m not kidding,” she put on very expensive and massive silver earrings perfectly fitting with her red and silver dress.

The theme for this year’s Met Gala was Steampunk and it was up to the stars if they wanted to put on clothing that represents the theme or not. Natasha wasn’t that kind of a woman. She preferred a fancy dress and she didn’t even have the time to create something with her stylists. “Hurry up, (Y/N),” Wanda sighed, getting impatient. “I really want to see you! You said you are going to wear an outfit perfectly fitting for this Gala. Move your ass. I’m getting impatient and excited at the same time.”

The door to the bathroom finally opened and the young woman came out, fully prepared for the night. She had a huge shy smile on her face. When Natasha and Wanda saw her, they were stunned. (Y/N) was wearing a black corset that looked like a west with a heart-shaped neckline and it had a black flourish pattern with leather edging. It had two leather belts with a small leather pocket that had a metal opening. The corset also had two other leather straps, going from the right breast to the left hip. The last touch was the leather collar serving as a necklace. Eyes falling down, they noticed a massive skirt that had a short front and a very long back. Y/N combined a modern style with steampunk and it was amazing. The material was mostly leather with satin sewed from the inside. It wouldn’t be complete without custom-made mid-thigh high boots of the same colour as the dress was. For accessories, she chose typical steampunk glasses on the top of her head. (Y/N) with the hairdresser’s permission had chosen a very high ponytail for the occasion. They even had to put hair extensions so her hair was twice longer than it actually was. On each side, she had a custom-made steampunk gun.

“Is it too much?” she asked carefully when the people were quiet.

“You are going to steal the Gala,” Wanda smiled at her, stepping closer and gently touching the skirt and corset. “Damn, this looks amazing. But hey, let’s be honest, this is you-you love dressing up for Halloween and masquerade.”

“Well, Steve is going to be speechless,” Natasha smirked at (Y/N), eyes never leaving hers.

“What do you mean?” she asked, shiver coming down her spine. She and Steve were always good friends, but since last mission, they started to spend a lot of time together and thus the feelings changed. She had a massive crush on him. However, she was afraid of making a move – hell, she was a little scared of a relationship. Last time she was in a serious one and it ended with a snap of fingers. Her ex-broke her heart. He found another one, slightly younger and beautiful.

Wanda nudged her shoulder. “You really don’t see it? (Y/N), that man is crazy about you!”

She breathed. “Okay, yes, I admit, I might have noticed something,” and she bit her lower lip. “It’s just… I don’t know. He’s my friend and I don’t want to screw it up.”

The red-haired woman rolled her eyes. “It’s been a year and you are still alone. You need someone and he’s the perfect one! The way he looks at you, even your ex never looked at you like that. When we were on a mission in Amsterdam, you two were permanently together. You two have this amazing chemistry. Okay, yes, you were in a relationship, which was slowly destroying you from inside – let’s be honest – and you and Steve were and still are perfect together – friends or maybe something more.” Natasha grabbed her hands and a smile stayed on her face. “Why don’t you talk tonight?”

“I should be sitting next to him but I’ll give my place to you and I’ll be sitting next to Bucky or Sam,” Wanda offered her. “Deal?”

(Y/N) nodded, her cheeks turned pink and she quickly bit her index finger. “Now, go to the bathroom so we can leave. There are hundreds of photographers waiting there and thousands of people to meet. Fuck, I’m really nervous now.”

…

There she was, looking from behind a window at the crowd of people in fancy dresses and suits. Natasha went with Wanda in a different car because Tony arranged it like that. The whole team would meet on the red carpet or at their table. She took a last deep breath and the door opened for her. An older man helped her get out of the car by setting his arm.

“Thank you,” she said politely, smiling at him. And then it all started.

(Y/N), over here! No, come here! Miss (Y/L/N) can you come here for a picture?!

It was weird – going up the stairs, people shouting her name when she was alone. There was no one to hold her hand and support her. A sincere smile appeared on her face and she went right up the stairs where the organizers showed her to go. The flashes were unpleasant but it was only for a couple of minutes. They needed to see her in the dress. They were craving for her, to take a photo from every side. Another deep breath and… her eyes found them – the perfect couple. Her ex and his new girlfriend were standing a few meters from (Y/N), taking pictures and occasionally kissing. How was it even possible they would be attending a thing like this? Her stomach turned. They were making her sick.

“(Y/N), pose for us!” someone shouted out loud, making her wince a little. There was no time for running away. The only solution she quickly made was to act cool and enjoy the red carpet. She put her hand on a hip and smiled for the photographers, trying to ignore the happy couple. She was sure they were both looking at her, if not talking about the girl. The woman changed a pose and made a face like a rock star.

It was time to move to the main stage where the biggest hunger for photos was. Trying to act cool, she slowly went up, step by step, watching her feet. It would be very embarrassing if had fallen on the red carpet right in front of the “happy couple” and the photographers.

“(Y/N)!” a familiar voice screamed her name. The (h/c)-haired girl turned around and saw the man who caused her butterflies in the stomach. Steve was wearing a typical black tux with a black tie. He was quickly approaching to her, spreading his arms for a warm hug. “Hi!” he smiled like an angel and pulled her into his warm embrace. When he pulled away, his eyes were scanning her from head to toes. “God, you look absolutely stunning!”

“Thank you very much, charming,” you made a grimace. “You look cute too. As usual. When was the last time we saw each other – during breakfast?” she laughed.

“Please, pose for us!” a shout interrupted their short conversation. With that, Steve put the feminine body closer to his and they gave them what they wanted. Luckily, they both loved being silly-the Captain had his funny side too- and they started to make faces. He couldn’t take this whole thing seriously and she loved having fun like this. All celebrities were serious, even Tony and Natasha, trying to look innocent, sweet and sexy at the same time. Steve and (Y/N) weren’t like the rest of the people. They only wanted to have a great time.

“I have to go,” he suddenly whispered into her ear and gently stroked her back. “I’ll see you inside.”

…

“I’m so glad the party is finally starting. All those speeches and everything, it was so annoying,” said Sam very loudly, who was sitting right opposite (Y/N). His hands were on the table and he was playing with his wine glass. “Who wants to dance with me, ladies?” he looked at Wanda, Natasha and later and (Y/N). Her eyes were fixed on her white napkin and she had a little smile on her face. The girl was enjoying this night. It wasn’t that horrible. She ignored her ex and his new girl and her mind was focused on her friends and Steve who made her laugh every five minutes. She was sitting next to Bucky and they had a great time. “Come on girls! There are great songs and I want to dance! It’s party time,” he was like a child.

“I hate this song,” Wanda sighed and took the wine glass between her fingers. “Can we wait for another five minutes? Then it will be my honour to dance with you, Wilson. You have the greatest moves.”

(Y/N)’s (e/c) eyes looked from side to side. She saw Tony whispering something into Pepper’s ear and she was smiling. They were gorgeous together. This was the perfect, happy couple. It was pure and even she could feel the love. It only made her smile more.

“Hey, what’s that thing on your face?” Steve leaned closer to her, making the girl wince a little. Her eyes found his. “Why are you smiling?” he asked again, also smiling. “Tell me.”

“It’s just,” she breathed, leaned closer to him and started to talk to his ear. The music was loud and they were playing crazy party songs. It all made the communication harder. “When I see Tony and Pepper, I just have to smile. Just look at them – they are happy and adorable. If there was a competition for the cutest couple in the world, they would win. And,” her voice changed from very positive to more sad. “I just hope that one day, I’ll have what they have.”

Cap put a hand on the woman’s shoulder and gently caressed it. “You will,” he replied. “One day, you’ll be as happy as they are.”

When they looked into each other’s eyes, the world stopped spinning for a while. It was just them sharing a moment together. Her heart was beating fast, not slowing down. Once again, those butterflies were back in her stomach, tickling her a little. Yes, she was definitely in love with this man and he probably didn’t even know it. The girls were right. She should do something about it.

“Hey, birds!” Sam interrupted their moment. “It’s dance time! Come on!”

“Do you want a dance-off?” (Y/N) kinked a brow and smirked.

“You think you are better than me?” the man made a grimace. Steve was even goofier than she thought. “Let’s go. I want to see your moves, (Y/L/N).”

A moment later, the Avengers family was on the dance floor, showing their best dance moves. The music changed and rock music was on. They created a circle and each of them went inside for a few seconds. The people who made the circle swayed from side to side, clapping their hands and the person inside did their best to impress everyone. Sam danced like his life depended on it. Some of the moves were very sensual and the other one was funny. When he ended, he grabbed (Y/N)’s hand and dragged her inside the circle. “Your turn!”

The woman playfully rolled her (e/c) eyes and started to move. Luckily, the genre didn’t change and she could dance to her favourite song Raise Hell. Her hands were in the air, hips moving from side to side and occasionally jumping to face a different person. When she turned to Stebe, he went closer to her and did exactly the same move as she did. It was funny but pretty much intimate. Together, they were singing the lyrics – well, screaming would be the proper word. The rest of the friends were laughing at them.

The song ended and the people started clapping, whistling and screaming from excitement. So did (Y/N) and Steve. Even laughter escaped their throats. Before they could notice, the rest of the team was gone and they were standing in the middle of the crowd alone, when (Y/N)’s favourite song started to play. The soft guitar tune started to play and she had to smile.

“Care for a dance?” Steve asked her when she slowly turned to him. And she accepted. One hand appeared on her waist while the other took hers and he pulled her closer to him. Her other hand rested on his chest. The people around them were too slow-dancing with a partner. The two of them were making leisure moves, enjoying each other’s company. It was very nice and very romantic.

They were quiet for a couple of seconds before he started to speak again. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he said to her ear, his voice being confident and serious. (Y/N) couldn’t reply, because he continued. “Have I told you how amazing you are?” The sides of their heads were touching. “Have I told you how you make me feel when I’m with you?” The blond man was still whispering to her ear, even when some of the people noticed how they were dancing. “I wish this moment would never end,” he dryly gulped.

(Y/N)’s eyes were closed the whole time while he was talking to her. Maybe she looked sad from the outside, but inside, her soul was jumping from happiness. He was always sweet, caring and this was something her heart was dreaming for the past few months. “I too wish it,” she replied calmly, deeply inhaling his perfume. “I wish this night would never end.”

They gently pulled their heads away, but not very far. Their eyes met before they fell to her lips. Hers did the same. The girl took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Steve leaned closer, his lips softly brushing against hers. As if he was scared to kiss her. When he was sure she wouldn’t run away, their lips finally connected in a very gentle and romantic first kiss. It was maybe a second or two but felt like an eternity and it meant a lot to them. When they pulled away, their foreheads were leaning against each other, their eyes still closed. The couple was breathing like one body, enjoying the moment and the song.

Love was in the air, that was for sure and even their friends saw it. Looking at the new couple from their table was all they needed. They belonged together. Two lost souls finally found each other. Natasha was smiling like a little girl and Wanda high-fived with Bucky and Sam.

The song was slowly getting to its end. Steve pulled her even closer to him. He needed to feel the warm body on hers, to make sure this wasn’t only a dream. Together, they ignored the whole world, not even caring if someone took a picture of them or not. This was their moment of love and it was just perfect. They didn’t need any words for describing all those feelings. This said everything with a kiss. When the song finished, Steve sighed and (Y/N) didn’t want to leave his embrace. It was warm and loving. He gave her the shelter she needed.

His fingers entwined with hers and together they went back to their table. The music has once again changed and the people started to wildly dance again. Steve helped the woman with her seat and then he pushed his chair closer to hers. When they were sitting at the table, they saw Wanda’s face. The brunette was looking at them with big puppy eyes. “You two are just adorable.”

(Y/N) blushed once again and licked her lips. Bucky approached them unexpectedly, tapping Captain’s shoulder. “Hey man, would you like to go to the bar with us?”

“No thanks, man. I believe Wanda would like a drink,” he gave the girl a look saying, please leave us alone.

“Oh, right, I would love a drink. I need a drink. And I need more wine,” she mumbled and quickly stood up, leaving with Barnes. The table was almost empty, leaving the two of them alone.

His manly hand found her tiny one and their fingers once again entwined. The girl put her head on his shoulder and he put his head on top of hers. This was all they needed – feel the presence of the other. His thumb was making circles on the top of her hand. This couldn’t be more romantic. This was a pure perfection. “Can I stay with you tonight?” she asked after a while.

“You can stay any time as long as you want, forever if you like,” he replied, kissing her forehead. His two fingers appeared under her chin and lifted her head up. Now, she was looking into his gorgeous blue eyes, even when the light was dimmed and she couldn’t see his face perfectly. “Maybe it’s too early, but I have to say it… I love you.”

(Y/N)’s lips crooked into a shy smile. Her heart skipped a beat. “I love you too.” And it was true. She did love him. They shared another soft kiss filled with love.

The night was slowly ending and the people were leaving the Gala. The new couple enjoyed the time with the rest of the friends, laughing and drinking more wine. Girls congratulated (Y/N) on her new relationship that started on the dance floor and wished them well. When no one was watching and they were all occupied by different people, Steve took his new girlfriend by hand and inconspicuously took her away from the Gala. He wanted to spend some time with her alone, back in his room.

#Steve Rogers x reader #Steve x reader #Steve Rogers #Captain America x reader #Captain America #Steve Rogers fluff #Steve Rogers x reafer fluff #MArvel fanfiction #Avengers fanfiction #Captain x reader #Steve Rogers fanfiction #Steve Rogers oneshot #Captain America fanfiction #Steve Rogers x female reader

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wetsockonyourfoot · 6 years

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Starboy Lance

Aghhhhh my head’s in so many different places rn, just take this! :S

You know that feeling when you're only really kinda good at one thing, and pretty mediocre or bad at everything else? That feeling of knowing there are others with multitude of talents, and skills, yet you were given the short end of the stick and barely given a talent at all? That's the feeling Keith had felt every day of his life. Back at his old middle school he just passed his classes really. Never an over achiever. Never an underachiever. He was never insanely popular, never apart of the nerdy kids, jocks, drama, art, music, or geek clubs. He was sorta... just... there. And that's how it seemed to be in high school too, he just floated along till his senior year. Keith remembers his senior year almost perfectly. Why? Because of one person. Lance. Lance was an incoming junior when Keith was beginning his senior year, though he shared the same classes as Lance. Beautiful, smart, and wonderful Lance who always found the perfect pastel outfit to wear each day of one week, before he completely switched and was wearing goth black the next week. That was Lance's talent, to be so perfectly absorbed in his own style, his own personal club that no one could seem to follow or get into. Keith fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on Lance, and then he fell out of love immediately when Lance opened his mouth to speak. Okay, that may be an exaggeration, but Lance's opening line of, "Dude I thought Mullet's were stuck in the 80s" was not exactly a charmer. Keith of course rolled his eyes and started to rethink the tan skinned beauty he now had a crush on, but Lance luckily saved the conversation. "Sorry, that was rude. And I can't exactly be one to talk now can I?" Lance asked gesturing towards his outfit of choice. Keith remembered it well. The first day of classes and Lance was simultaneously breaking every school dress code at once, well for girls anyway. Boys didn't have any dress codes except to wear pants essentially. Lance however was clad in probably the most pastel goth outfit Keith had ever seen. Purple galaxy tights with bright pink converse, a pair of blue shorts over his tights, and a yellow shirt with a classic little green alien plastered on the front that read 'Aliens?'. Bronze skin practically glowed in the sun as he adjusted the various clips and earrings in his ears, along with the bracelets and rings on his arms. It was a completely feminine look, yet here was a slightly lanky boy pulling it off perfectly. Keith thought that surely someone would harass him for wearing such an outfit, yet he knew that as long as Lance hung out with him, no one would dare to touch him. Keith Kogane didn't have many talents, he was an average student really. But god damn, he could punch, and he was know for it. Back during his freshmen year of high school, Keith had some rough encounters with the baseball jocks after they kicked out Takashi Shirogane from their team. Shiro, as Keith called him, was Keith's current boyfriend. Three year's his senior, he was a well rounded and absolutely perfect human being. Shiro however was involved in an accident when he was in 10th grade that cost him his arm, and he had been facing hardship against the baseball team every sense. He was allowed to play his 11th year with his new arm, but couldn't find the courage to actually get back onto the field. So his final year they officially kicked Shiro off the team, and Keith got a little more than pissed. It ended up with Keith getting two weeks suspension, and the head of the baseball team getting reconstructive surgery. Needless to say, no one picked fights with Keith. Lance hung around for a while longer, talking about how he just moved to the town with his mother after a rough divorce. Keith speaking about how he was an orphan that now lived with Shiro since he was technically a year behind in age and would be turning 19 that year. Keith had moved in during the summer and couldn't be happier to be out of the dingy foster home he was stuck in. They were nice people and all, but he was ready to get out and not have someone nagging him all the time. Lance, as it turned out, would be turning 18 that year, as he was a year ahead of his age. "Part of being born in the summer I suppose?" was all he commented about it. Conversation flowed through them casually, naturally as if they had been talking all their lives. He found out that most of his siblings were staying with his father back in Cuba, his mother and him having moved to the United States for a fresh start. They had been living there since last May, and Lance's English was so good that if he hadn't been told so Keith would have never guessed his first language was actually Spanish. All throughout the day Lance received looks, and sneers from peers though he seemed to ignore them all and instead focused on making a social group for him and Keith. It was hard to find the right people, or at least to find people that Lance considered good enough to keep. Though Lance also seemed to be a social media expert as he Chatted and Snapped, and Twittered his way through mobs of curious girls and boys alike. In the end, Keith would prefer to just have Lance to himself, but, that was a conversation for... well actually now seemed to be a good time to consider it, Keith thought. Lance seemed to be perfectly built for Keith, and sure as hell had a personality to match, but he already had Shiro. Why would he feel the need to have another boyfriend? Sure Keith had heard of poly amorous relationships before, but he never considered the thought too much. It never stuck out to him as something that needed to be thought about so seriously before. He didn't have a problem with it or anything, so long as the people involved knew about the other partners and were okay with it. However, Keith never considered him to be one to find himself in this position. Shiro had always provided him with everything he needed. Love, comfort, a source of relief after a hard day, hell he even helped Keith provide a house and food for them both. But Lance... Lance provided social interaction that he craved. The danger of being new, the intoxicating scent of something fresh that Keith wanted to stain and mark as his. Lance was a breathe of new air in Keith's slowly dulling life. Shiro provided him with stability, Lance with flexibility. Both were needed and in the right parts, but the hard part came as to when to get them together. Hell Keith was thinking to fast, he had to find out if Lance even liked him back first! Fantasizing could come later! And thus the day went on. Boring classes that Keith barely paid attention too, syllabus that he would have to sign later, and the sense of emotional exhaustion settling deep into his bones. Keith's day was far from over though, he had his shift down at a local bar still, hired as one of the bouncers since he knew the young faces of the town. So he trudged on. Dumping his bag in the back of the bar after a short walk to down town from school, still thinking about Lance all while he worked. The way the other's brown hair seemed to glow gold when caught right, lean muscles, bright blue eyes, and enthusiasm that made even a shy loner like Keith smile. Needless to say, Keith couldn't wait to get home and find out more about the teen. Heading back home around 1 AM, he was greeted to his usual sight of Shiro's attempt at cooking, failure from cooking, and resulting pizza box on the counter, along with the older passed out on the couch with the TV droning on. Shaking his head lovingly, Keith dropped his bags, grabbed some pizza and shoved it down quickly before nudging Shiro awake. Shiro half awake and half asleep will continue to be the best part of dating the taller male, he was like a child in this state, mumbling nonsense and stumbling around as Keith lead him to bed. The bedroom was a small thing, as their house was a simple one story affair, in a decently safe neighbor hood. Shiro's parents had helped put down the deposit, but Shiro and him kept on time with their own payments, giving it the sense of truly being theirs. Down the hall from the living room was their bedroom, where a giant bed took up almost all the space inside of it. Shiro insisted on getting the large mattress, as he rolled around a lot and was a fairly large man. Keith was thankful for it, as it meant fewer steps for the sleep drunken young adult to walk and get to bed. With Shiro tucked in soundly, Keith even gave him a kiss for good measure, he worked on getting ready for bed himself and found that only one thing was out of place. The neighbors light was still on, casting a fake yellow shadow across the spot where Keith was to rest his head. Grumbling annoyed by the lack of darkness in his spot, he tried to get the blinds to close further and failed horribly, somehow making them open wider instead of closing. Mentally cursing himself Keith tried to fix the matter before a figure appeared in the light of the opposite room. It was Lance. Keith felt his heart drop right then and there. Lance was almost completely exposed in his outfit. Only wearing a pair of panties, and a long sweater over his top half. That's not what made Keith's heart drop however. All across Lance's legs were scars and bandages. And all of them looked to be self inflicted.

#keith kogane #takashi shirogane #Shiro #sheith #klance #lance #Lance McClain #keith #voltron #voltron angst #langst #angst #voltron fic #Starboy Lance #Anna writes stuff #tw self harm #tw mental health #shklance end goal

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lavender-lotion · 6 years

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Silver Glitter | 2,576k

Find the rest here! Read on AO3 here!

August 2017 - Silver

Stiles comes back from college in full control of his spark and in a full face of make up.

Peter likes.

Huh.

Walking into the loft was far from a surreal experience. It was familiar, something he'd done countless times during high school that now he thought nothing of it. He was just excited - excited to see his pack and his friends after eight months of being away. Because while the others had, he hadn’t came back once. Instead he planned out how he graduate the fastest and decided to fast track his degree, choosing for less visits and instead coming home an entire year early. He took a rushed course over winter holidays and used both reading weeks to desperately stay on top of his too-packed schedule. He was taking a double course load and it was slowly but surely killing him.

But being home now made up for it. He’d spent the entire last afternoon and night with his father, catching up with the Sheriff. He had felt settled in a way he had yet too since leaving for school, being home and being held by his dad. His dad who didn’t say one thing about his new ‘look’ nor said one bad thing about the tattoos he was suddenly covered in, instead asked about what they meant. Explaining his magic to his father had been fun, if not incredibly challenging. It was hard for someone without magic to really, truly understand.

So here he was, his second day back in Beacon Hills and late for the packs get together. He couldn't be upset he and his father were up until five this morning talking, and he figured the pack would excuse the lateness when he told them. It wasn't until he actually entered the loft that he realized not seeing the pack may have been a mistake. He definitely didn’t look much like he used too and he was already preparing himself for the barrage of questions he was going to receive.

He had changed at college, blossomed into something new. And not only with his magic, which he had evolved - his spark shining brightly in his chest, his arms and torso littered with runes and tattoos to enhance his power. He was strong, one of the strongest magic users he’d met in terms of raw power. His spark shone soft and bright inside him, pale moonlight. It could be sharp and violent, lightening as it urged to burn. It was wild, and it had been free when he first came into it. He was just lucky he’d found his first teacher before he blew himself - or the city - up.

He was stronger now, yes, but it was because he was sure of who he was. It didn’t take him as long as it probably could have - his self discovery. It was probably because he was as into research as he was and he had never been one to lie to himself. He was honest in his own mind, had been since those few months when his mind hadn’t just been his. So he did research, hours and hours of it before settling on something that felt right. The makeup and more feminine clothing hadn’t came in until he met Rick, a super cool pal who introduced him to the wonders of makeup and beauty gurus. And it was nice to know that he wasn’t alone, that he could actually learn what he was doing from other boys. It was inspiring.

He still hadn’t worn makeup out of the house for a while, though. He wanted to be good, needed to be before he let anyone else see him. The first time he wore makeup he kept it light, dewy and soft, lips clear gloss. And he looked good, fuck he looked great, especially after Rick had taken him shopping.

His wardrobe was a now mix of this new Stiles and the old, blending together the two. The outfit he had picked out for the day was a good example of that. His black converse were still a staple for him, though the laces were hardly white at this point. He was still wearing his usual plaid - though this particular overshirt was a simple grayscale and hung loosely on his frame, and beneath it he wore a white, cropped baseball-t that said ‘daddy’ in silvery italic lettering. His jeans were new too, a faded black that fit tight, ripped slightly at the knee.

What was probably the most shocking - other than the strip of midriff he was shamelessly showing off (hell he’d worked for his v-lines) - was his face. His face that was completely done up in makeup. He was contoured and highlighted and highlighted more. His lips were a dark purple gloss, the same shade being reflected in the crease of his eye look. His lids were painted with a bright silver glitter, peeking out behind the two pairs of lashes he had stacked on.

Stiles sort of wished the pack had at least seen him before now, since they were all outright staring. And it wasn't as though Stiles wasn't used to staring, because he was. He lived his life like this - a bisexual, gender-nonconforming man who wore makeup and feminine clothing- and it was common for people to watch him. He was fine with it when it came from faceless strangers on the street, hell he loved it when it young kids came up and asked him questions. But this wasn't the same. This was his pack, and despite how little they’d spoken to him they were still his family, and for that he wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle a negative comment from them.

Although, it didn't seem as though there were going to be any comments, since they were all still staring at him, the pack littered around the room. Scott was gaping at him, mouth hung open and his eyes wide where he stood next to Kira, her face soft and open. Lydia was staring at him as well, but hers was critical, as though judging his blending abilities - which were flawless - from across the room. Both Jackson and Isaac were sneering, no doubt something horrible waiting to be said. Erica, sitting in Boyd’s lap on the couch, looked appraising.

Stiles eyes stuck on Peter though. The man was leaning against a support beam, his stance faux casual, his body all tense lines. He had put on a bit of bulk since Stiles had last been back, his arms thicker than they had been before, his chest wider. They had spoken, quite regularly since Stiles had left for college so the boy knew about Peter working out with Derek in an attempt to bond. His beard was now just that, full and thick around his jaw, matching chest hair just peeking out from under the low v of his shirt. Though what Stiles was really focused on were the man's eyes, electric blue and bright where they tracked up Stiles form.

“Preferred pronouns, sweetheart?” The man said around a mouthful of fangs, though there was nothing sharp about his voice. It was soft, almost tentative in a way Stiles wasn’t used to Peter sounding. It went with the beard, Stiles thought to himself.

“Uh, he and him are fine.” Stiles all but stuttered out, glancing shyly at the man. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. Peter standing didn’t help, nor did him all but stalking towards Stiles. Yes, Stiles was honest enough with himself to admit that he’d always been attracted to the older man, but this Peter? This Peter was doing all sorts of things to Stiles’ body.

“Is that a request?” The man asked, suddenly in front of Stiles. His thumb grazed the text of Stiles’ shirt, swiping up to softly rub over the boy's nipple through the cotton. Stiles looked down at his shirt dumbly, the warmth from Peter’s body making his brain feel slow. When he finally read what it said he let out a giggle, flush bright red on his neck even as he nodded, again shyly looking from under his lashes at the man before him.

“May I scent you?” Stiles nodded again, momentarily thrown off by Peter’s politeness. Sure the man hadn’t really done anything wrong since he had came back to life but he had still been a creepy, sarcastic asshole most of the time. The fact that he know had crinkles around his eyes made something low in Stiles’ belly heat up even though he knows he shouldn't find laugh lines so damn attractive.

The hours a week they’d spent talking may have also helped. At first, it had been Stiles asking questions for his Mythology courses - Peter being a well of knowledge - and it had quickly became fun, almost flirty banter. And then it took another turn, becoming real conversation. Peter talked about life before the fire, his degree in Law and his fights with Talia - how trivial everything seemed now that it was all gone. Stiles in turn talked about his mother, the absence of his father for so many years. They knew each other, but Stiles could normally ignore the low grade arousal that sprung up whenever he thought of Peter if the man was hours away.

Now? With Peter stepping even closer - the hand previously rubbing his chest falling and wrapping around the boy's waist, slipping under the flannel to press against the bare skin of Stiles’ lower back - Stiles entire body felt like it was heating up. The air in the loft felt charged, especially so when Peter brought his face even closer, letting his chin rub against the top of Stiles’ head, his stubble warm and thick as it brushed past the boy's ears. It tickled when Peter settled into the crock of Stiles neck, warm breath making Stiles shiver.

Peter continued with his actions, rubbing his scent into the boy's skin, his rough facial hair pinkening the skin. He dragged the flat of his palm up Stiles back, leaving another layer of his scent behind, all but purring when the boy leaned back into the hold, resting his weight into Peter’s embrace. Stiles sighed, his own magic flaring bright in his chest in delight, softly caressing the man in front of him. It was akin to scenting, though only those who could see magic would know what Stiles had done. He’d left his own mark on the man, his own magical signature sticking to the wolf like Peter’s scent to him.

The man pulled back with a content sounding growl, the noise a soft rumble against Stiles’ skin. The boy was blushing, almost thankful his makeup would be covering it, though he knew his ears and neck must have been bright red with arousal. God, he could only imagine his scent right now, what it must be giving away. He blinked his eyes open slowly, only realizing they were glowing bright with his magic when Peter inhaled sharply, a delighted smirk spreading over his face.

“My, my, how college has changed you,” Peter commented, his voice light and approving as if he hadn’t already known about Stiles’ improvement with his magic.

Before Stiles had a chance to answer he was being slammed into by an armful of blonde werewolf, Erica giggling as she wrapped herself tight around the boy. Arms and legs holding herself up, heedless of Stiles’ support. Stiles for his part stumbled a half step before regaining his balance, holding her firmly around the waist. She just laughed more, rubbing her face into the other side of his neck - most likely because Peter had yet to stop emitting a low growl, one Stiles wasn’t even sure the wolf knew he was making.

Stiles just laughed again, his eyes burning hot with tears, twirling Erica before letting her down, smiling gently at the girl, “I missed you,” He said, voice raw.

They’d been through too much together to not be close. After spending those hours in the basement, increasingly terrified as he realized that no one was coming for him, he had raced his way back, shouldering past Chris to release Erica and Boyd. Their bond had been close after that, only being able to relate to one another. The rest of the pack had drifted by them, in those first few weeks when Erica wouldn’t go anywhere alone and Stiles began carrying guns and knives on his person. Boyd talked even less, refusing to leave either alone for very long.

For months the couple had invaded Stiles’ bedroom - and not in the way the Sheriff thought - and it had essentially forced Stiles to out the supernatural. Just the thought of being too far from each other was terrifying, and one they refused to play at. So they became a strong unit, their bond only strengthening when Stiles saved them from their Alpha pack at the risk of his life. That had been when the first little sparklings of his spark began to show through, magic passed down from his mother awakening for the first time. There was no that he was going to let anyone hurt what was his.

And if he started to feel pack bonds that day, well he never actually said anything - specially because there were only two. He could feel Erica and Boyd, warm and strong inside his chest, bright next to his spark, even if he hardly knew what it was back then. When senior year happened and Stiles finally was Stiles again, the nogitsune gone, gone, gone Stiles continued to only feel the two pack bonds - and alright maybe there was a small, fleeting, fledgling of a bond he refused to admit to - he kept it to himself. He didn’t want to think about why he couldn't feel Scott or even Derek. Didn’t want to think about why his best friend wasn’t a part of his pack, even though Peter Hale was.

So he didn’t. He finished his senior year and left for college, his fledgling bond forming into something solid and strong during the months of conversation between him and eldest Hale. And he knew Peter felt it too, knew Peter spent hours a day ‘playing’ with the bond. He would send Stiles feelings, little platitudes that almost felt like emoticons. It was cute, and Stiles played right back. Now they could almost send thoughts, and the boy was determined to figure out how to do so these next four months.

Being surrounded by these three, by his pack felt all sorts of right. He had to laugh at it too, send his pure joy along the pack bonds inside of him and he rejoiced when he felt similar feelings sent back. He pulled Boyd into the hug, ran a hand down the man's bald head to spread around his scent, taking Erica’s wrist in hand to do the same. He doesn’t worry about Peter, since the man is worming his way close behind him, pressing himself chest to back.

He knows the sorts of conversations he’s about to have. Knows he’ll half to explain and defend his identity, explain why his eyelids are silver and why he’s wearing a girls shirt. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t owe it to anyone. Though as Boyd crows even closer, the four of them alone in their own little bubble - if just for a moment - he figures it won’t be so bad. As long as he gets to spend the next for months with these three, with his pack, he’ll be fine.

#Steter Monthly Prompts #SteterNetwork Monthly Prompts #TheSteterNetwork #Steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #gender identity #gender queer #gender nonconforming #stiles wears makeup #preslash #pack feels #teen wolf #my writing #my work #my fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

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rosyredlipstick · 7 years

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Rental Love* (5\?)

(*Read Terms & Conditions)

- Male/22/Long Island N.Y.C. Tired of showing up stag at holiday events? Want your family to stop thinking there’s something wrong with you? Just want some arm candy for a work event? Look no further. Your solution is here! I will attend holiday events with you as your paid date. Accepting all genders as applicants. Email [email protected] if interested. Interview & application will be set up there. - Nico di Angelo has been telling Hazel Levesque about his boyfriend for weeks. The bad part? Nico doesn’t have a boyfriend, the holidays are coming up, and not all of Jason’s ideas are horrible. They’re all a bit surprised about the last one. Read Part One Here Part Two Part Three Part Four

Nico was incredibly mournful of that fact that he wasn’t able to say that it was his first morning being woken up by a body colliding into his.

Jason was a terrible roommate, after all.

But this was definitely not Jason, with her high, feminine laughter ringing in the air, and her horribly clashing ugly Christmas sweater themed pajamas.

“Merry Christmas!” Hazel laughed, perfectly content in the space between him and Will’s previously sleeping bodies.

She threw her feet and hands into the air, kicking them about. “It’s Christmas!” She declared as if it wasn’t already completely obvious. “Get up!” She ordered, sitting up to point to both of them. “Hades won’t let us open any gifts until everyone’s eaten breakfast and is downstairs and neither of that is going to happen if you guys lay here all day!”

Nico groaned out loud, burying himself into his blankets, momentarily grateful both he and Will wore sleep shirts to bed. “What time is it?”

“Early.” Will groaned back, his voice just as rough as Nico’s. Nico tried to ignore it, the nice edge of the rasp in his voice, and forced himself onto other thoughts.

“It’s eight-thirty!” Hazel declared, “Frank made me wait, we’ve been up since six.”

They heard an exhausted groan from the doorway, and Nico peeked up from his pile of warmth.

Frank, leaning against the doorway, slid a hand over his lax face. “That we have.”

“Poor Frank.” Nico mumbled, tucking the blankets tighter around himself as Hazel tried to pull them off.

“Poor Frank.” Nico heard Will agree in the same low tone, muffled as he buried his face into the pillow.

Neither of them bothered to change out of their wrinkled from sleep pajama bottoms, instead only absent-mindedly shoving on shirts that belonged to the other. They both shuffled down the stairs, and Nico, with his face buried in the warmth of Will’s neck, didn’t even try to hide how heavily he was leaning against the other boy. Will didn’t seem to mind though, just as clingy in his sleepiness, his arm slung around Nico’s shoulders.

Hazel, who had bounced ahead of them as they changed, waited at the bottom of the stairs with a fond look on her face.

“Go lay on the couch with your boyfriend.” She teased, happiness in her voice. She was far too chipper, and even Will’s ‘morning person’ personality shied away from her sunny grin. She balanced a tray on her hip and made a shoo-ing motion with her hand. “Frank and I will grab the hot chocolate and be in there in a second. Hades and Persephone should be down in a minute.”

Nico laid down on the couch, and Will’s movements weren’t anything like the hesitation Nico was feeling. Will laid across his chest, his hand coming up to rest on Nico’s shoulder. His body was heavy and warm against Nico’s, and the roaring fireplace next to them wasn’t the only reason for the blush crawling up Nico’s neck.

“Is this okay?” Will’s voice was quiet, too quiet for anyone but Nico.

Nico’s voice was soft, but it didn’t need to hold any volume for Will to hear it. They were so close, Will could feel Nico’s breath on the back of his neck.

“Yeah.” He breathed out, his arms coming up to circle Will’s waist.

“Hey sleepyheads.” Hazel gave them a soft smile, balancing a tray on her hip. “Coco’s here.”

“The famous di Angelo mix.” Will grinned, catching on quickly. He accepted a cup topped heavily with whipped cream and sat up slowly.

Hazel passed Nico a cup with much less cream, but from the scent, much more peppermint. Just how he liked it.

He gave her a small smile in thanks, following Will’s example and sitting up with his legs tucked under him. He leaned into Will’s warmth, not really as tired and clingy anymore but still craving the contact nonetheless. Will’s hand, almost like without thinking, came up to brush Nico’s bed head back before it could fall into his drink, and Nico had to will away the flush climbing up his neck.

“Where’s Hades?” He asked, probably too-loud, mostly as a distraction from the way Will’s shoulders were leaning into Nico’s side, his warmth welcome and comforting through their thin pajama layers.

“Hades isn’t here.” He heard his father’s voice exclaim loudly, causing a twin wince from him and Will. “However ~” Hades threw himself in front of the couch, a large red and white hat taking up most of his face, the matching color scheme taking up the oversized outfit he was donning. “Santa is here!”

Nico only stared at him, blinking slowly in response to Will’s sudden erupting laughter at his side. “Why.” He breathed out, “Why do you have to do this.”

Hades beamed, rolling up his red sleeves only to have them fall back down a moment later.

“What are you talking about? I am simply Father Christmas, here to visit to Di Angelo household.”

Nico finally groaned, shoving his head into Will’s neck. “Why are you so embarrassing.”

Will laughed, his hand coming up to thread through Nico’s hair. “I think it’s cute.”

Had been Nico been looking, he would have seen the impressed and happy look Hades shot Will at that. “See?” He asked Nico, pulling on the edge of Nico’s foot hanging off the couch. “I’m cute.”

Nico kicked out his foot, hitting Hades’s wrist with a nice wack, and smiled a bit at his father’s noise of surprise.

Nico turned his face out of Will’s neck to see Hazel giggling loudly into Frank’s chest, their own position similar to the close one he and Will were tied up in.

Persephone - thank the gods - was wearing her normal soft pajama ensemble she wore every year - her bare face and messy ponytail a rare sight. She plopped down on the couch closest to them, tilting her head back and laughing as Hades struggled not to trip over the much, much too large outfit. Her face was fond, an open picture of love, and she tilted her head to them as she spoke with bumpy, laughter filled words.

“Isn’t he hot?” Persephone giggled, “I swear, I find him more attractive everyday. Like a fine wine, yes? Gets better with age?”

“I hate you. I hate both of you.” Nico only declared, fitting his hands over his ears, ignoring Will’s soft laughter at his side. “Why do you guys have to do this.”

“Don’t you agree, Will?” He could barely hear Persephone ask over his plugged ears, grinning wildly like the witch she was.

Nico removed his hands in time to hear Will hum, a thoughtful look on his face.

Will grinned, catching Nico’s eye playfully. “All I’ll say is this - if Nico grows up to look like that? I wouldn’t be disappointed.”

Persephone howled with laughter, her wine glass swinging dangerously as she fell forward in laughter, and Nico huffed out a breath, his traitorous cheeks coloring horribly.

“I”m leaving this family.” He announced, standing. “Goodbye, it’s been fun, Hazel can have my shares of the will.”

Hazel peeked her head over from the couch, smiling at something Frank was saying. “I can what?” She asked, laughter making her voice happy and bumpy.

“You get Hades’s retro car collection and the manor in L.A., congrats.”

Hazel nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll enjoy the sun. So your entire inheritance?”

“Consider it yours.” Nico made a bowing motion, rolling his eyes, and reached for another cup of eggnog.

“Including Jules-Albert?” She asked, her voice teasing.

Nico paused, his mouth clicking close. “Okay. Most of my inheritance.”

Hazel laughed, “Thought so.”

“Your chauffeur is in your family’s will?” Will asked, giving him a look.

Nico nodded, frowning. “Well, yeah. Someone has to remember to visit him and make sure Beatrice is up to shape, and he’s needy.” He shot a smirk over to Hazel, “And he likes me the best.”

Hazel huffed a breath up into the hair in her face. “That’s just because you used to make him to take you to the convenience store at two in the morning and force him to bond with you.”

Nico gave her a nonchalant shrug, “Worked, didn’t it?”

Hazel only rolled her eyes in response, not really minding. Everyone knew she was Allegra's favorite anyways - their esteemed cook who had been in the family since Nico could remember - and the sneaked bites before dinner and midnight snacks were enough for Hazel to give up the title of Jules Albert’s preferred.

Hades stepped forward then, Nico sighing again at the sight of his costume, and the older man took advantage of the lull in their argument.

“Merry Christmas, di Angelo's!” Hades grinned, his arms tucked behind him. “As your beloved father could not be here today -” He spoke over Nico’s loud groan, shooting a small smile to Will as the blond boy swatted at him in response - “I, Saint Nicholas, will be filling in for this Christmas morning!”

“Let’s get this over with.” Nico muttered, sitting up from Will’s embrace.

Hades, pushing the plastic white beard back a little so he could speak, smiled down at his son. “Why, little boy!” His voice was much, much too loud. “Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

“I hate you.” Nico answered, glaring at him with too much humor and not enough heat. “I really, really do.”

“Naughty, I assume!” Hades only took from that, still grinning widely. He took a step forward closer to his family, his hands still wound behind his back. “But that’s quite forgivable, I assure you. Especially since your father tells me you’ve brought such a nice young man home for the holidays!” He winked at Will, and Nico was almost embarrassed to acknowledge that this wasn’t the first time. This entire experience had only so far taught him one thing: he could never, ever bring home another guy to his family.

Hazel, the traitor, was giggling at the whole ordeal, her hands fanning over her wide smile from her place on the couch. Nico resisted the urge to stick her tongue out on her, and settled for rolling his eyes at his father.

“Does any of this have a point?” Nico asked through gritted teeth, ignoring how Will was shaking with quiet laughter beside him.

Hades brightened, as if Nico was reminding him of something. “Ah! Yes, yes I do.” He cleared his throat. “As comes tradition with Nico’s winnings of the Annual Gingerbread Contest -” With a lavish movement, Hades revealed an extravagantly wrapped gift from behind his back, smiling hugely. “The first present!”

He handed the gift over to his son, all eyes on Nico, and Nico took the familiarly shaped box in his hands and gave it a playful weigh.

Nico grinned,, the playful annoyance from earlier disappearing, and tipped his head back towards his father, already knowing. “Vinyl?”

“Of course.” Hades smiled, referring back to their mutual agreement of giving each other vinyl every year. It was simple, made Hades easy to shop for, and Nico was hardly ever disappointed. It was good arrangement.

He tore off the paper - too thick to be anything but ridiculously expensive for paper meant for ripping - and settled the heavy package on his lap.

He whistled, smoothing his hand over the plastic cling wrap that guarded the earthy colored album. His smile was small, private, but meant nothing less than a beaming face of joy. “Hozier - how’d you know?”

Hades knocked his shoulder with his hand. “I have my ways.” He said, his voice dripping with mystery, probably meaning he just checked out Nico’s latest spotify playlists.

Nico smiled, a small and real sort of thing. “Thanks, dad.”

Hades beamed at the thanks, already turning away to reach for Hazel’s first gift from him.

Will grinned next to him, bringing Nico’s attention to him, and his voice soft enough so his words were just for Nico. “Wow Nico, didn’t know you were a hipster too. I thought pop punks were suppose to hate hipsters, isn’t this kind of a contradiction?”

Nico shoved him, no real heat behind the action. His stuck his nose in the air, a playful look crossing his face. “It’s how music was supposed to be played. It sounds a thousand times better.”

Will hummed, tracing the silhouette on the album cover with a light finger. “You’ll have to show me later. Educate the misinformed, you know.”

Nico thought that over, glad his family was momentarily distracted as Persephone unwrapped one of her first - of many, if by tradition - gifts from Hades. “That sounds...okay.”

Will glanced at him, his eyes too blue and too nice to look at for such a casual action. He curved his smile up into a half-grin, and Nico pretended to be extremely invested in the ugly pattern of their antique rug that spread out before the fireplace.

“Yeah?” Will asked, his voice soft.

Nico nodded, still looking away. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

He glanced to his sister, excitedly gushing over the new set of watercolors Hades had ordered from Italy or France or whatever, and focused his attention on the holiday instead of Will’s warm body pressed into the line of his.

It was Persephone’s turn next - Hazel had helped Nico with hers, directing him towards a soft and earthy colored scarf Persephone had apparently been eyeing, and his step-mother smiled in thanks at the soft fabric. “Thank you boys.” She smiled, referring to the From Nico and Will tag Nico had added on last minute. “It’s beautiful.”

The continued like that, Hades enjoying the few vintage records Nico found buried in a record shop down the street from the restaurant Jason worked at. Frank made a soft noise of surprise at the engraved arrowheads Persephone had excitedly ordered weeks ago, his eyes going red as he stumbled down a shy thanks.

“Open mine next.” Nico nodded to the small wrapped gift under the tree, thanking the other boy when Frank handed it over. Hazel smiled at him, her smile going a bit soft at his messy dark handwriting on the side of the box. She tore off the paper quickly, handing it over to Frank and his garbage bag, and took a good look at the box.

Hazel blinked in surprise, a happily pleased smile coming over her face as she realized what it was. “I - I love it!” She hugged the small box to her chest, beaming. “Nico! This is - this is great! I’ve always wanted one of these!”

Nico blushed slightly, “There’s no need to sound so surprised.” He teased.

She shot him an amused look. “Nico. You got me a kitten calendar and an expired fruitcake last year. I love you, but you’re usually horrible at gift giving.” She grinned suddenly and hugely, like a thought was just now coming to her. “Wait...Will totally helped you pick this out, didn’t he?”

She laughed at the immediate blush that fell over Nico’s cheeks, “Knew it!”

“Just enjoy your gift.” Nico only said, falling back into Will’s side with an easy air. Will’s arm, already stretched across the back of the couch, fell to Nico’s shoulders, his hand brushing Nico’s neck. He willed himself not to blush at the simple action.

There was another round of ruffling paper as Hades pulled another gift from under the tree. He passed it over to his wife, giving both he and Will on the couch a playful - but happy - look.

“Your turn, Will.” Persephone smiled at him, passing over a brightly wrapped package.

Will took the package with surprised hands and eyes, his mouth falling open into an oh. He glanced up to Hades and Persephone, both still smiling excitedly, and blinked a few times in obvious surprise. “You - I didn’t - you didn’t have to -”

Hades waved his hand through the air, interrupting Will mid-stutter. “It’s nothing, son. Now hush and open your present, or my feelings very well may get hurt.”

Hades shot him a teasing smile, gesturing to the package in Will’s lap, and they all waited.

Will bit his lip and nodded, doing as told. He pushed away the wrapping paper easily and stared at the package for a long moment, still blinking.

“A Hamilton sweatshirt.” Will breathed out, looking up to glance from Nico - who shrugged - back to Persephone and Hades’s grinning faces. “How - how’d you know I -”

“Love that musical?” Persephone finished for him, still smiling widely at the shocked look on Will’s face. “Sweetheart, you’re not the only one awake at six in the morning you know. And I have to say, your shower rendition of Guns and Ships is particularly impressive.”

Will blushed a harsh color, his glowing cheeks hiding none of his obvious embarrassment. His dipped his head, his curls falling over his face, “Thank you. Um - for the gift. I really like it.”

Nico smiled at his step-mom and father, his arm coming to loosely rest around Will’s waist. Will was still staring down at the sweatshirt - a gray zip-up with the well-known logo on the breast pocket - with a shy, small smile on his face, his expression only visible to Nico through the curtain of his hair.

“We love Hamilton.” Hazel suddenly spoke up, smiling sweetly. “You should hear Nico’s Eliza - he gets into it. Burn makes him cry everytime.”

Nico scowled, “It’s an emotional song and she trusted him so much -”

“Anyways!” Hazel ignored him, “My turn!” She reached under the tree to gather one of the few presents left, shoving it over to Will’s lap. “Merry Christmas!”

Will looked even more surprised by the second present then the first, and he fumbled with the gift as to not drop it straight onto the floor. He didn’t wait for anyone’s insistence this time, only shooting Hazel a coy look before carefully folding back the expensive looking wrapping paper.

He hadn’t even fully unwrapped the gift before he paused, staring at the box in his lap with obvious question, his hands frozen mid air over the peeled back paper.

“Nico said you collected them!” Hazel beamed, “I wasn’t sure which ones you had so I just got one of the more rarer ones - I still have the receipt if you do though! I just wanted to surprise you!”

Will stared down at the package with a shell-shocked look on his face, disbelieving.

“I...I don’t have this one.” He said, his voice a bit numb. He continued to blink down at the package, and Nico craned his neck to attempt to see what it was over the mess of crumpled wrapping paper. What had she gotten him? Nico couldn’t remember even mentioning anything to her. Maybe something else Hamilton? Except that didn’t exactly fit the context.

Hazel clasped her hands together, “Great! I had to fight a few Ebay bidders for it, but I’m so glad you like it!”

Will nodded, still staring down at the gift. He looked up, giving her a convincing charming smile, despite the obvious - obvious to Nico at least - tension in his shoulder. Will was a great actor, after all. “I love it, Hazel.” He said, holding the gift - still covered a bit in wrapping paper - to his chest.

She beamed, happy, and moved on to giving Frank his present from him, nearly shaking in excitement. Hazel loved gift giving then any amount of gift receiving, and it was obvious.

After only a few minutes, Will was standing, the gift still to his chest, as he announced, “I’m going to get us some refills.” He grabbed onto Nico’s arm, a death grip. “Nico, help me, will you?

Seeing as Nico didn’t have much of a choice - and Nico was curious to whatever gift Hazel had given him - he went along, Will’s arm pulling him down the hallway into the kitchen.

Will spun on his heel as soon as they entered the room and pushed the package towards the other boy, his eyes on fire.

“What the hell is this?”

Nico stared down at the package for a long moment, uncomprehending.

He blinked a few times.

“Um.” He said, because Will was obviously expecting a response. “What?”

Will kept his voice to a low frown, “What did you tell her.” His words were flat with barely concealed annoyance and frustration, anger seeping through the syllables as well.

Nico blinked again in confusion, ready to deny having any part of the gift, when he was suddenly hit with something.

A memory came to him - fuzzy and barely there despite being only months old, a throw-away sentence that seems so insignificant and undetailed at the time - then the memory was gone, leaving behind the barely there image of a coffeeshop and Hazel’s insistent tone, a joke she had no idea to take as anything but the truth, his and Jason’s lingering joke about it.

Nico clasped a hand over his mouth, a laugh staring to climb up his throat. “ Oh my god.”

Will continued his glare at him. “What did you do.”

Nico only repeated himself, his eyes wide with realization and quickly gathering amusement. “Oh my god.”

Will put his hands on Nico’s shoulders, forcing Nico to meet his eyes. “What did you do.”

Nico took a breath, attempting to momentarily keep his laughter at bay, and grinned so widely his cheeks ached in protest. Hazel unknowingly had just become his favorite person in the entire world. “Oh my god. I had no idea she would remember. I totally forgot about it - oh my god.”

“Remember what?” Will demanded.

Nico shook his head in disbelief, his eyes falling back down on the package, causing another bout of laughter. “Hazel - Hazel wanted more details on my mysterious boyfriend or whatever a few months ago, and - oh my god - I gave her some random details and -” He broke off into another peal of laughter, bending over at the waist. He grabbed onto the chair for support, nearly heaving.

Will’s jaw clenched, and he glared at an empty spot on the wall as he said the next words, the sentence hard and flat.

“You told her I collected vintage troll dolls?”

“I told her my boyfriend collected vintage troll dolls!” Nico said through hysterical laughter, his words barely making it out. “Jason and I thought it was hilarious, and she wanted more details on my boyfriend! I had no idea she would remember!” He heaved for breath, his face turning red with the lack of oxygen. “Gods, this is the best day of my life. Oh my god. I can’t believe this, oh my god.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this.” Will hissed, shoving the package under Nico’s nose.

With a forced note of composure, Nico looked up at him with serious eyes. “Treat it lovingly, I hope. It’s rare, you know.”

Will stared at him for a long moment. “I hate you. So much.”

Nico patted him on the shoulder, his lips spread out into the most shit-eating grin he could manage. “I’m glad you like you gift, Will. Shame, if I’d known you loved them so much I might have picked you up a few.”

Will let go of a breath that must have been holding the last of his surprised anger, replacing the emotion with full, uncomprehending disbelief.

Will was now staring down at the package in his hands, at the chubby little figurine, and the neon colored hair that curled out of the top. He had to stifle down the last of his laughter.

Nico, in a rare moment of pity, grabbed onto his arm, cutting through Will’s still heavy disbelief. “They’re probably wondering where we are. Let’s grab the refills and go before someone comes looking.”

Will blinked up at him and allowed himself to be dragged away, his hand still curled around that damn package.

Nico, without the hysterical laughter, would definitely be thanking Hazel later on.

Hours later, after all the gifts were unwrapped the their arsenal of hot chocolate and eggnog drained, Hazel was shoving a bundle of clothes into his arms.

Nico was already groaning. “Hazel -”

“Nope!” Hazel smiled brightly, “Just because you fight it every year Nico doesn’t mean I’m ever gonna let you sit out, ya know.”

Nico scowled down at the bundle in his arms, Hazel already plucking through it. She found a lumpy multi-colored knitted hat and shoved it on her own head, still looking through the pile.

Will shot them both a questioning look. He caught Nico’s eye, a smile in his now-pleasant voice. “Care to fill me in, Nico?”

Will had seemed to finally adjust to the reality of his new-ownership of a probably too-costly vintage troll doll much better then Nico would have done so himself. Had it been him, Nico would have promised a fiery death on the small doll before the hour was over. Maybe Will had some experience with horrible, but well-meaning gifts. This gift, at least, should be rememberable.

Nico ignored how warm that thought made him feel. The thought that this - maybe him - would be memorable to Will.

Hazel seemed to notice that Nico hadn’t bothered answering, speaking up in his place.

“We always play in the snow for awhile if we can.” Hazel smiled sweetly, pulling out a scarf from the pile to wind around Frank’s. “It’s a lot of fun!”

Will hummed as he pulled on his gloves. “My sisters love playing in the snow.” His smile took on a bit more realness, “We have the best snowball fights.”

“Just wait till you see how competitive Hazel can get.” Frank told Will, his tone joking. “She and Nico….get into it.”

Will raised a teasing eyebrow towards Nico, who only rolled his eyes. “Gingerbread House level competitiveness?”

Frank only shook his head. “Worst.”

Will whistled lowly, “I don’t know.” He shot Nico a teasing glance, “I think I can take ya.”

Nico gave him a look clearly stating you wish and dropped the pile on the nearest flat surface to begin shifting through it.

Nico pulled out a pair of gloves he remembered wearing last year, picking at one of the loose threads as Hazel and Will continued to joke.

He threw on a few more warmth-appropriate accessories on, hoping they wouldn’t be out there much long. He was just pulling on a plaid gray and black winter hat - poof end and all - when he was interrupted by a soft touch on his arm, pulling him back into the conversation.

He glanced up, a bit surprised to see Will standing much closer than he was previously. Nico swallowed.

“What’s up?” He got out, hating how the automatic reaction his body gave in response to a too-close Will Solace, with his too-blue eyes and curved up smile, was to freak the fuck out.

Will shifted closer to him, his hand dropping from Nico’s arm, and he spoke in a flat, serious voice.

“Nico. I’m about to ask you the most important question known to man ever.” Will gave him a grave look, placing both hands on Nico’s shoulders to stare directly into his eyes.

Nico swallowed, his throat drying up a bit at the intense emotion in the other boy’s eyes. “Will, we’re already dating.” He said, half-attempting to joke, his voice light and teasing, mostly for the benefit of Hazel and Frank standing a few feet away.

Will shook his head. “That’s not it. Nico…” He trailed off, reaffirming his hard steel look. “Do you want to build a snowman?”

Not even Nico’s loud, dragging groan could drown out Will’s ringing laughter.

“What are we going to name her?”

Nico rolled his eyes, readjusting the thick scarf around his face. He hated the cold okay? It was a known fact. “We’re not naming the snowman.”

Will shot him a wounded look. “Why not? She deserves a name!”

Nico continued to pat down the snow on his side. Which hopefully wasn’t the front because, well, when you hated snow as much as Nico did, you didn’t tend to have much experience with it, which leads to horribly deformed snowman. “First, the snowman does not have a gender. And if it did it would be, ya know, a man. And secondly, no. We’re not naming a pile of snow.”

Will frowned. It was annoying that despite the thick winter gear they were bundled up into, unattractive neon colors and all, Will still had the audacity to look cute. Fuck him.

Will was still frowning, and Nico attempted to listen what he was saying. “That’s sexist. Our snowperson could totally be a woman.” He glanced around for a second, seemingly looking for something, and paused when his eyes landed on Hazel and Frank, working on their own snow pile a few yards away. “Hazel!”

Said girl turned, already grinning. “Yeah, Will?”

“Nice snowperson! What’s their name?”

Hazel turned to Frank for a quick moment before responded. “Tina! Yours?”

Will gave Nico a triumph look before turning back. “Haven’t named her yet! Thanks!”

Nico glared at Hazel, who only blew him a kiss.

Will was still giving him a satisfied look. “We have to name her. Without a name she’s nothing but snow.”

Nico stared at him. “It is nothing but snow!”

Will frowned. “Nico. We have to name her.”

Nico finally sighed and threw his hands up into the air. “Fine! Gods, name the snow pile, go wild.”

Will beamed, and Nico hated how warm that act made him feel. Will turned, eyeing their snow pile with concentrated interest. He finally seemed to decide, nodding and crossing his arms. “She’s been named.” He declared, turning back to Nico to grin.

Nico raised an eyebrow, curious despite himself. “And?”

Will nodded, looking back to the snow pile. “Antoinette. Her name is Antoinette.”

He paused, “Like…Marie Antoinette? The Queen of France?”

“Yup. That’s the one.” Will patted down a bit of the snow. “She looks like royalty, doesn’t she?”

Nico hung his head, giving up. “I – yes. Sure. Yes. The snow pile looks like royalty.”

Will beamed again. “Glad you agree. Hazel!” He waved her attention back to them. “Her name is Antoinette!”

“Like the Queen!” Frank yelled back, joining in. Will nodded excitedly.

He turned back to Nico with a smug glimmer in his eyes. “See?”

Nico only sighed, resigning himself to the fate of Will’s annoyance for the immediate future.

Will went back to patting down the snow, readjusting the stones of the face into a happy expression. Nico turned to do the same, another shiver rushing through his body as the wind began to pick up.

The chill had been worsening since they first got out there, definitely due to the slightly setting sun. Not like the sun was providing much heat to begin with, but still. It was definitely getting colder.

“It’s freezing.” Nico barely got out through chattering teeth, tucking his icy hands under his armpits.

Will frowned at him, his eyes full of concern. “You’re cold?”

“It’s winter. In Chicago. We’re outside.” Nico barely got out, “Yeah, I’m a little cold.”

Will continued that frown of his, stepping closer, one of his hands coming up to cup Nico’s cheek. “Do you wanna go inside?”

If Nico’s cheeks hasn’t already been burning a harsh red due to the frigid air that whipped around them, they would have bloomed into a slight blush at the action. Instead, Nico only stared a bit wide-eyed at the other boy, his voice a barely there stutter. “I - I mean, no. We can stay out a bit longer.”

Will nodded, a simple dip of his chin, his hand still warm and pressing into the freezing skin of Nico’s face. “Good.” He finally said, his eyes flickering up to Nico’s through his blond eyelashes. “That means I can do this.”

Before Nico could blush, or wonder what he meant, or even take another breath, Will was leaning and -

- and shoving a handful of snow down his collar.

Nico immediately jumped back, cursing and recoiling at the sudden invasion of wet ice on his dry skin as Will - along with Hazel and Frank, he noticed bitterly - cackled with laughter

“Asshole.” Nico cursed, waving out the end of his shirt to attempt to get some of the chucks out of the fabric. He continued cursing, glaring at the other boy’s still laughing face, “You’re such a dick.”

Will smirked at him, “Sorry darlin’, couldn’t help it.”

Nico held his arms tighter around himself, his voice low enough that Hazel and Frank wouldn’t be able to hear his mutter. “You couldn’t help being a dick? Wow. Prime boyfriend material, let me tell you. Can I leave a Yelp review? Might help out whatever poor sucker tries to hire you next.”

Will only answered in a laugh, his eyes dancing, and annoyingly took absolutely no offense to the remarks.

“Fine, how bout I let you get in a hit?” Will held out his arms, as if embracing for impact.

Nico thought about it for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Will continued to wait, even as Nico turned and began climbing up the slight hill back to the manor. Will called out in question behind him, his head now cocked to the side in confusion, and Nico only looked over his shoulder as he continued to walk.

“Never said I was going to cash in that freebie now.” It was Nico’s turn to smirk. “Keep on your toes, Solace.”

Will didn’t answer, but Nico definitely counted that one as a win, despite the sticking snow still melting against his chest.

He immediately headed towards his bathroom, vaguely registering Will falling in place behind him, a bit out of breath as he rushed to follow Nico and climb the staircase. Dripping with melted snow, Nico didn’t even feel bad about heading straight for the bathroom first.

Nico peeled off the cold fabric, wincing at the ice chunks that fell to the title with the action. He changed quickly, thankfully, as threw his soaked clothes into the bathtub, putting that off until another time. He dressed in a pair of delightfully soft and worn sweats - the same pair he had caught Hades, on several occasions, attempting to throw into their fireplace due to the few holes along the bottom and blotchy bleach stains - with a V-neck so stretched out it no longer resembled the letter at all. An O-Neck, maybe.

So, dressed in his unsexiest clothes, it understandable the confusion that came with the double-take Will gave him when he reentered his bedroom, the other boy already changed into similar clothes, chosen not for their fashion but completely on softness and warmth.

“What?” Nico demanded, crossing his arms.

Will stared at him for a long moment. “Your hair’s messy.”

Nico blinked, his hand coming up to rest on his head. It seemed a bit more tangled than usual, probably due to the several snowballs Hazel had manage to noogie into his head earlier in the day. He should probably put it up honestly, but unsurprisingly he couldn’t find the motivation to do so.

He gave Will a suspicious look. What did the other boy want, for Nico to drop everything and pour himself into stylizing the tangled mess that he couldn’t be bothered with? Fuck that. And it’s not like Will had the best hair in the world, despite how the curls fell oh-so-perfectly across the nape of his neck, and how the golden strands seemed to glow under sunlight.

“Yeah?” Nico gave him a half-shrug, “And?”

“You look...soft.” Will seemed to finally decide on. He gave Nico a small smile before Nico could bite back something - because how the hell was he suppose to take that? “I like it.”

And what the fuck was Nico suppose to do with that?

Nico settled on a frown, his default expression, and turned out of the room, fully expecting the other boy to follow. “Whatever.” He said, his voice nonchalant despite the very nonchalant blush his cheeks were burning.

Will didn’t answer, but Nico could almost hear the unvoiced laughter that Will was holding back. Ugh. Nico really didn’t need this.

He lead the other boy down the staircase, fully intending on throwing himself onto the plush couch to watch some Christmas specials, when he noticed a flash of movement darting into the parlor room. He frowned, following it.

This simple action, he would later remember, would lead to so, so much regret.

He lingered in the doorway of the parlor for a second, Will’s presence a slight question as his back, before he turned to leave.

“Ahhh….son?” Hades drawled out, his voice filled with glee, and Nico turned slightly to face the older man, standing in the hallway.

Hades was grinning, staring at them so obviously with such a huge grin, it was a bit creepy. He clasped his hands together, leaning into Persephone with a loving excitement evident in his eyes.

Without looking, Nico could already tell what Hades had done. He had done it many times in Nico’s teens, and even more with Hazel and Frank in their early relationship. He should have expected it.

Will was glancing up, an amused look passing over his face at he glanced over at Nico’s father. He dipped his head closer to Nico’s face, their faces nearly cheek to cheek as Will lightly pulled him forward.

“You get three moments of PDA.” Will told him, his voice a soft whisper into Nico’s ear, a soft reminder of the job Will was doing, of the service Nico was paying him for. Nico swallowed. He didn’t need the reminder. He knew.

He mentally composed himself. He - he didn’t need to think about that right now, with Will here, with Will close and warm and slightly smiling that stupid charming grin his family immediately fell for. Will smelt good - Nico had noticed these past few days - like coconut shampoo and spiced cologne. He pushed those thoughts out of his mind, pulling the smile out of him that this situation needed.

Nico glanced up, not surprised in the slightest, but needing to see it just the same.. “Does it count if we’re under mistletoe?”

Will grinned, dipping his chin. “’Fraid so. But I can’t be one to deny a tradition, can I? After all,” Will leaned in a bit, letting his hot breath brush over Nico’s lips. “We’ve got to save some for New Years. People expect those.”

Nico could only nod back, not trusting his voice, and briefly wondered when he should shut his eyes.

Nico had kissed people before. He’d slept with people before, for gods sake. He had been in relationships and dated and fucked and had one night stands and - and Nico was experienced. He wasn’t some blushing virgin, wasn’t some coy and shy eyed high schooler who’s only experience was from his left hand. Nico was experienced.

So gods, why was his body suddenly acting like he wasn’t?

Will took the lead, and the stubborn part of Nico should have risen up at that, should have at least glared at the soft part of him that desperately wanted actions like that, but he didn’t. He didn’t do that all.

Will’s hands were steady on his back, and he tilted Nico back just the slightest, almost like he was asking for permission, before dipping Nico to the side, his eyes dancing, his mouth ringing with light laughter.

Had Nico been fully mentally there, perhaps he would have rolled his eyes or muttered some sarcastic remark, or maybe would have smirked and pushed the other boy back to do the same to him.

But, as Nico’s mind tended to go a bit vacant at the blueness in Will’s eyes these days, he didn’t do any of those things.

Instead, staring with wide eyes at the other boy, he only leaned back into the dip, his hands coming up to circle Will’s neck. He wasn’t sure if he imagined the slight widening of Will’s eyes - probably did, Nico was always too wishful for his own good - but he didn’t imagine the slow grin erupting across his face, or the growing audience behind them as Hazel cooed and Frank laughed.

Will was leaning in, and so was Nico, and so was their gathered audience as their lips finally met in a chaste rendezvous under that damn piece of fake mistletoe. Will’s curls, always framing his face so nicely, fell over Nico’s forehead, and his nose pressed into Nico’s cheek ever so slightly as their lips pressed into each other.

There was just the slightest tease of tongue from Will, his tongue barely tracing the line of Nico’s lower lip, and Nico had to stifle the gasp that wanted to emerge at the unexpected move.

Will was good. Will, obviously, had had a lot of practice.

Will pulled away first, already turning away to grin at Nico’s family. He kept his arm wrapped around Nico’s waist, and Nico barely had time to slap on a grin before his family was descending on them, giggling and winking.

He’d manage to escape for a moment, pushing Will’s arm off with light, casual hands, and he’d lean against the wall and breathe in and out for a long minute, his mind racing with everything that had just happened.

He….Fuck.

Fuck.

Nico retreated to bed first that night, claiming a terrible headache, and it only took half an hour - according to the clock on the bedside table - for Will to join him.

“How are you feeling?” Will frowned, setting a cold water bottle on the table. “Did you take anything?”

Nico glanced at the other boy over the cuff of the comforter. Will began readying for bed, his concerned eyes still a presence on Nico. “Aspirin.” He lied, “I’m feeling better. Think I just need some sleep.”

Will hummed, “Understandable.” His voice was teasing. He seemed completely unaffected by what happened in the hallway, and Nico wasn’t sure if that was for the better or worst. The better, probably. “You’re used to sleeping into noon at least, eight A.M. is a big change. Surprised you didn’t crash earlier, even with all the sugar you regularly ingest.”

Nico smiled slightly at that in answer, content to simply watch as Will pulled out his pajamas and left to brush his teeth and wash his face. He would return smelling like mint and grapefruit, Nico knew, from his toothpaste and facial soap. It was a nice change from the coconut and spice he smelt like the rest of the time.

“Hazel told me the plans for tomorrow.” Will told him as he reentered the room, throwing his dirty clothes into the corner his empty duffel was. “We’ve got to be well-rested. She wants to get there before it gets too busy.”

Nico hummed in response, curling a bit in on himself as Will threw himself onto the other end of the bed.

Will took a few moments to get other the blankets and comfortable, plugging in his phone, and relaxing into the blankets. Nico could almost already feel the warmth from the other boy creeping over, his arm nearly brushing Nico’s despite the hugeness of the large bed.

Nico turned over so they were back-to-back, because he was a coward and couldn’t face this conversation with Will’s too-big, too-blue eyes on him.

“What happens after this?” Nico finally asked, his fingers twisting tight in the sheets pooling around him.

“What do you mean?” Will’s voice was light, still filled with a bit of leftover energy. “We go to sleep, dork.”

Nico buried his face into the pillow. “No.” He said, “I mean. With us. What happens after this. This….whole thing.”

Will let out a breath at that, even more audible through the darkness. There was a beat of silence as he seemed to take in the mood change and as he thought over his words. When he spoke, his words were soft. “We break up. You tell your family it didn’t work out. We go our separate ways. That’s how it always goes.”

Nico swallowed, staring ahead. “Right. Yeah.”

He shifted in their shared bed, the mattress suddenly much more colder than the heat around him should have allowed.

Notes:

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) sooooooooooooooooooooooo kiss 1 down. ANGST. christmas is over.........i wonder what nerd 1 and nerd 2 are going to do for five days till NYE.................hmmm........who knows...... tbh reviews really help the writing process - knowing that some people out there are reading and actually ENJOYING my work enough that they WANT more content is honestly the best motivation. review if you enjoyed! <3 thanks loves. i had to google vintage troll dolls for this chapter and DAMN THOSE THINGS GET EXPENSIVE FIND A CHEAPER HOBBY WILLIAM i laughed so hard writing that scene omfg. poor poor william. i bet when nico was just beginning to tell hazel about his fake boyfriend he would give her the WILDEST details. thank god hazel forgot 80% of it or the plan would be foiled in like 4.5 minutes.

#solangelo #rental love #rosy writes #Percy Jackon and the Olympians #Nico di Angelo #will solace #christmas au #holiday fic #light angst #fluff #rent a boyfriend au #trials of apollo #Heroes of Olympus #my fic #wip

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