Nico's POV

He's lying on the couch, the low glow of the tv lighting his face. His arm brushes up against a fast-food wrapper, his leg propped up on the arm of the couch. Maybe he should get up, clean his and Will's cramped apartment, change out of his stained sweats and tee for when Will gets home. But he's still wallowing in the feeling of being recently fired, and his brain hurts just thinking about it. Not a good fit, they had said after he'd been working there for six months, offering to come in when they were understaffed and staying late if they needed it. Not a good fit. It makes anger flare up in his chest and he groans, throwing his arm over his eyes. The light from the tv is making his head hurt but the remote is too far away to turn off so he sinks down lower into the couch, burying his face in one of their fraying pillows. It lessens the throb in his head so he keeps it there, fading in and out of sleep with the low sound and dull glow of the tv in the background. 

He shoots up when he hears the door open, a sliver of light from the hallway leaking into the dark studio apartment. Nico's hair is sticking up on top of his head and his shirt slips down to reveal the sharp groove of his collarbone. He rubs at his eyes as Will slips inside, slumped down in his waiter uniform that constantly smells slightly of meat. He leans against the wall as he kicks off his shoes, stretching out his arms above his head and letting his head fall against the wall. Nico frowns, sitting up straighter. Will didn't get off of work until eleven; how long had he been asleep for? 

"It's a mess in here," Will groans, slumping over in one of the ripped armchairs sitting around the tv. "Did you do anything today?" 

"I just got fired, Will, let me wallow for a few days." 

"You could have cleaned up a little. This is your mess." Nico feels a white-hot flash of anger in his chest and out of nowhere, he's more energized than he has been all day. 

"Well, I didn't." 

"Did you look for a new job?" 

"No." He pushes himself up, his muscles protesting after laying down all day, making his way past empty pizza boxes and dirty clothes to the fridge. It hums as he opens it, his eyes scanning over a half-bag of deli sliced cheese, expired milk, vegetables that look like they're slumping over. There's a smell coming from somewhere deep inside, a puddle of water on one of the shelves. He settles on one of the slices of cheese, cramming it into his mouth and swallowing it whole. "Will you get off my back for one second?" The rage in his chest is pulsing and suddenly two years of living a working life, conflicting schedules, and falling behind on bills catch up to them. 

"I can't get off your back, Nico. You do know we're not kids anymore, right? That we have to pay the rent, and we have to buy clothes and food?"

"I get that, Will." His voice comes out in a low growl and he grabs a half-gallon of chocolate milk from the fridge, chugging it despite the slightly chunky quality. It's only two days expired. 

"You could at least take things a little more seriously. You do know we're behind on our rent, right?" 

"I know, Will." 

"And you just lost your job?" 

"I know, Will." 

"And you didn't do anything today."

"Can you lay off?" He tosses the chocolate milk into the trash and it lands with a dull thud, rattling the bottom of the can. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the door of the fridge as he glares at Will. Will is glaring right back, his face shadowy in the darkness of the room. It makes the bags underneath his eyes blend in more than normal but they're still prominent features on his face, half the size of his eyes. They look like bruises, injuries from not getting enough sleep, and working two jobs. They both have them, almost as permanent as a scar. The byproduct of exhaustion that's forming the rift between then, the exhaustion that's making them fight. Again. 

"I can't lay off, Nico." Will is standing up, too, his arms crossed over his chest, too, shooting Nico the same glare that they both hope will make the other one lay off. "We need money, and I can't carry our financial situation on my back."

"I never asked you to."

"You kinda did by doing absolutely nothing today."

"I just got fired, Will. Go a little easy on me." The hundred feet between them suddenly feels like a hundred miles. Nico wonders how long it's been since he's felt close to his boyfriend. It's had to be since college, at least. Since they were nothing more than kids with all the time in the world, kids who lived happily in their dorms surviving off of ramen and ice cream, kids with nothing better to do but kiss until the sun came up. It's been two years since they graduated, got their apartment but somehow, they both seem so much older. 

"Fuck this," Will says, pushing off of the wall and traipsing over to their bed, pressed up against the back wall with a lovely view of the alleyway out back. His shoulders slump forward and Nico hears a tiny sigh from his mouth. He's as tired of fighting as Nico is, and Nico almost feels bad. But then he remembers the feeling of judgment as Will berated him for being lazy, for surviving off of Will's money, and the anger in his chest returns. "I'm going to bed." 

"Have fun." Nico makes his way back over to the couch, letting it swallow him as he turns back to the tv. It's a boring reality show, nothing that would normally captivate his attention but he doesn't take his eyes off of the screen as he listens to the stream of the kitchen sink run over his toothbrush, as his work clothes hit the floor and he pulls on his pajamas. They're the same pajamas he always wears, Nico's sure; his NYU sweatpants from college and the World's Best Boyfriend shirt that Nico had gotten him for their third anniversary. He's always loved the way that Will has looked in his pajamas; sleepy and soft, ready to tuck his head into the curve of Nico's neck and fall asleep pressed together. But Nico staunchly ignores him, watching as the contestant on the reality show meets her potential dates. Soon he hears the springs of the bed creak as Will climbs onto it, the shift of blankets as he pulls them over his body, a tiny, shaky sigh. Normally, he wouldn't assume that it was crying. Normally, a sigh would just be a sigh. But Nico can assume that night that the sigh means that Will is on the brink of tears because Nico is in the same spot. There are tears pricking the corners of his eyes and he fights to keep his crying quiet, his body still because he can't let Will see the effect that their fights have on him, even though Will is most likely feeling the same thing. They're both tired of the weight that fighting has on their body, but it's been so long that he can't remember their relationship without it.

Will's POV

He can't sleep. No matter how many times he pulls up the covers, buries his face in the pillow, he's wide awake. His body feels as if it's buzzing, his head filled with thought after thought. Thoughts about work, about the rent bill that's two days overdue, about how Nico looked while they were fighting, somehow firey and downtrodden at the same time. Thinking about the look on his face makes Will's heart hurt, and he wishes that he could turn back time and redo everything since the moment he walked through the doors. They had never meant to fight. They had never meant to hurt one another. But there they were, with Will in the bed and Nico on the couch, both trying to forget their mistakes. 

He flips around so that he's staring at the back of the couch, the faint glow of the tv leaking out over the top. He can see a single lock of black hair sticking up from Nico's head, and the simple sight makes him smile. Nico's hair gets wild sometimes, spiky like a hedgehog, and Will always reminds him, in a sweet, endearing way to brush it. There's a part of him that wants to remind him to pat it down before kissing his forehead but he can't because they're in a fight, and Will can't back down from their fight. 

The night ticks by and Will is still lying completely still on the bed, the low glow of the tv still coming from the front of the apartment. Even though it's New York City, it's quiet outside, the activity down to a low hum of a couple of pedestrians in the alleyway, the distant honking of cars. It has to be two in the morning, at least, and they've been in the same position for hours on end. They're both stubborn people, especially when it comes to fighting but after a sleepless few hours stewing in the aftermath of the fight, he can't take it anymore. 

When he pushes back the covers they make a rustling sound and the part of Nico's head that he can see over the top of the couch shifts, but not enough so that Nico would be able to see Will. Nico is clearly trying to appear uninterested in what Will is doing, but Will can see right through him. He doesn't look away from the tv as Will rounds the corner that brings him into Nico's eyesight, sitting on the part of the couch that isn't taken up by Nico's legs. Nico brings them up to his chest, curling up as small as possible on the opposite side of the couch. He props his elbows upon his knees and rests his chin on them, staring down the tv. His chin is set, his jawline strong and his eyes are unblinking. He's doing a good job at ignoring Will, but Will doesn't want them to ignore each other anymore. "How's the show?" Will asks quietly, nodding at the tv. Nico purses his lips, sinking in on himself. His hair is still sticking up and Will pats it down gently, his hand slipping down to squeeze Nico's arm. 

"I don't want to fight anymore." Nico's voice is hoarse and it takes a second or two to find it, but there's a dried tear track down his cheek. "I'm tired of fighting." 

"Me, too." Will sighs shakily, tilting his head and staring up at the ceiling. "When did we start fighting so much? We used to be so good." 

"That was when we were just kids." 

"I wish we were just kids again. College feels like a dream." There's a tear slipping down Nico's cheek, redoing the trail and Will flicks it away before it can reach the bottom of his face. His finger lingers on his chin and Nico's body shakes once before he turns to Will, kissing him softly. Will's touch turns from a finger on the chin to a hand cupping his cheek, and he's forgotten how good it had felt. He isn't sure how long it's been since they kissed so passionately. 

When they're finished, Will's hand slips down to rest on Nico's knee as tears fall from both of their faces as they mourn what once was. The memories from before are so sweet compared to now. "Let's not fight anymore," Nico says. "At least for tonight. Let's just stay up and watch tv and talk like we used to do." 

"Nothing sounds better." Nico leans against Will and Will wraps his arm around his shoulder, kissing his cheek. The fight from before begins to slip from their mind and although the problems are still there; the prospect of losing their apartment, wondering what their next meal would be, it feels like it used to. The excitement, the wonder, the beauty of young love is back, at least for one night. And for them, amid the frenzy of work and fighting, one night of having young love back is enough. 

Hi guys, this is another pre-written one because AP tests and work but now that things have calmed down a bit I'll be able to write some new stuff, so I hope this one was okay! Per request, I'm gonna write a second part of Broken Hearts Club from last week so look out for that. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed!

Nina