@Blessed_by_Hypnos requested a part two of last week's one shot and I was more than happy to deliver, so I hope you like it!

Will's POV

The air is cool and he wraps his arms around his chest, shivering slightly as he stands outside of the roller skating rink, scanning the area for the mop of black hair that's become so familiar. His tee shirt is thin and it wraps around his body, hugging it as the wind twists the fabric. He checks his phone for a text from Nico; they had exchanged numbers once he had been discharged, his head in a considerably better state. But there's nothing; no sign of a missed call, no text explaining why he's twenty minutes late. 

Will sighs, shoving his phone back into his pocket and leaning against the brick wall of the roller skating rink, his arms crossed over his chest. He knows that the inside is warm, and the pounding of the music would block out any of the thoughts running through his mind, the questions, his insecurities. His stomach grumbles, and he remembers Nico's promise that once they got inside they'd get bad nachos and soda that would slosh in his stomach as they skated. But he has to stay outside; it's what they agreed on. He turns his ringer on just in case, even though he doesn't think Nico will call. 

Nico's POV

There's blood everywhere. Streaming out of both nostrils and into his cupped hands, splashing onto his shirt, dripping down onto the concrete. This is his nice black shirt, the best one he's ever owned. He doesn't know how he managed to miss the pole directly in front of him; he had been bent down over his phone, texting Will to let him know that he was a five-minute walk away. The next thing he knew his nose was colliding with the pole, his phone shattering against the sidewalk. 

Amid the bloody mess, he falls to his knees, one hand still cupped underneath his nose as he scrambles to find Percy's contact. The smashed screen underneath his fingers is rough, broken glass slicing into his finger. But he manages to call Percy, listens to the ringing, prays that he picks up. "What?" 

"I need your help," Nico says, watching the blood pool in the crevices of his hand. It's deep red, and he fights the urge to gag. Despite the number of times he's seen his own blood, from scraped knees and accidental gashes in his arm, he's never gotten used to seeing it in front of him, so regular yet so disturbing. "I'm on Maple Street, by the McDonald's. Can you come to get me?" Percy's breathing is crackling over the speaker and the audio is tinny, and Nico knows his phone is about to die. 

"Why?" 

"Bloody nose. Please, Percy." He hears Percy heave a sigh, and he yells something to Annabeth. 

"I'll be right there." 

"Thanks. Bring tissues." He hangs up, groaning and taking a seat on the ground, resting his head against the very pole he smashed his head into. His nose is pulsing but it doesn't feel broken like it did the last time because when he looks at it in the black screen of his phone it's mostly straight, the bones in place. Once he's almost sure it's not broken he makes a move to text Will. He'll get there twenty minutes later and they'll laugh about the whole thing as Nico wears a clean but not as nice black tee shirt. But when he tries to turn on his phone only half of it lights up, green lines blossoming out from where the source of the crack is. Nico groans, letting his head lean against the pole until he begins to feel the blood drain into the back of his throat and he almost chokes on it, picking his head back up and waiting, lightheaded, for Percy to arrive. 

"You're really dumb." 

"I know." 

"And on the way to a date, too?" 

"Shut up, Percy." 

"You can't go five minutes without-" 

"I said shut up, Percy." Nico holds the tissues to his nose, pressing hard. In the time it's taken Percy to get there it's slowed, but blood still blooms onto the tissue, staining it red. There's still a stain of blood on his hands, dribbled down his shirt and in his back pocket, the glass of his phone screen hangs on by a thread. 

"You want me to bring you to your apartment?" 

"I need to change, so yes." 

"I'll drive you to your date after if you still want to go." Nico bites his lip,  staring down at the blood on his hands. He doesn't have Will's number memorized, and with his phone shattered, he has no way of contacting him. 

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." He just hopes that Will will still be there when he finally arrives.

When he gets to his apartment he flies into action, stripping down to his boxers and pulling on his second nicest black shirt. It's not as nice as the first one, but it'll do. He makes up for it by putting on a pair of khakis; they're nicer than black jeans, and maybe they'll make up for the fact that he's twenty minutes late. As he relaces his converse he struggles to remember Will's number- he thinks that there was a two in there, maybe a six, but he can't be sure. 

He splashes water on his face, washing the blood off of his nose, chin, hands. He feels as if he could scrub for hours and still not get everything clean but the blood is gone, at least, and he folds his hands around the bowl of the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. His nose is still pulsing but it looks fine, besides the thin crust of dried blood around the inside of his nostrils. He sighs, scrubbing at the bottom of his nose and groaning as a thin stream of blood inches out. He wipes at it with a spare square of toilet paper, tossing it into the toilet. He takes a final glance at himself in the mirror before walking out. He feels grosser than before, his confidence shot, but it'll have to do.

Will's POV

Nico jumps out of a car twenty minutes after he's supposed to have been there, waving goodbye to the person in the driver's seat before he sprints up to Will, chewing on his lip. "Let me explain." 

"I thought we were meeting at one." 

"Yeah." He sighs, scratching the back of his head. "We were. But I slammed into a pole, and my nose started bleeding, and there was blood everywhere and I had to change and my nose started bleeding, and I would have called you except I shattered my phone. I actually had it out to text you. Here." He pulls his phone out of his pocket with fumbling hands, passing it to Will. Green lines run up and down the screen, the glass shattered. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. I like you, Will. I wouldn't stand you up." Will sighs, stepping closer and reaching out a hand, brushing a thumb across the bridge of Nico's nose. 

"Is it okay?" 

"I think so." 

"Does it hurt when I do this?" He pokes Nico's nose and he bats it away, grinning. 

"Cut it out, Will, I'm fine." He laughs and Will smiles, his cheeks glowing. "So, you want nachos?" 

"I've been waiting twenty minutes for nachos, of course, I want them."  

The strobe lights hit them full force when they're inside, old pop music blaring as kids scream from the rink, whizzing past on roller skates that make their feet look huge. They can hear the popping of soda, smell the fake cheese as it bubbles. They take a table at the back, as far away from the roller rink as they can get and when the nachos arrive they dive down onto the nachos, cheese dripping down onto their fingers as the jalapenos burn their mouths. But when they chase it down with soda it chases away the burn, too, and soon they're sitting in their chairs, their hands on top of their stomachs as they watch the strobe lights bounce across the floor, painting it neon. "You wanna skate?" Nico asks, patting his stomach. Will opens his mouth, gritting his teeth. "Will?" 

"I don't really know how." 

"Why'd you say yes when I suggested the skating rink?" 

"I didn't think it would be that hard. But I'm gonna fall if I go out there. I promise you." 

"I'll help you." 

"You're pretty clumsy, I don't really know if I should trust you." 

"I'm not that clumsy." 

"How many times have I seen you in the ER?" Nico smiles at the ground, playing with a glob of cheese still sitting on the plate. 

"Ok, I'm clumsy. But I know how to skate. It's really not that hard. I'll help you." He stands up, brushing chip crumbs off of his shirt. Will is still sitting, eyes still trained on the rink and Nico grins, offering Will his hand. "Come on. I won't let you down." 

"Fine. But I'm trusting you." He takes Nico's hand, pulling himself up and there's a moment when Will doesn't let go of his hand, when their fingers are intertwined when nothing exists but the feeling of their skin touching. And then Nico pulls Will towards the skates and he stumbles, laughing softly as he follows Nico. 

Nico's POV

Will is a quick learner but he's still wobbly, still dependent on the handrail for support. Occasionally he'll reach out for Nico's hand, nearly pitching forward onto the floor but Nico grabs him every time, feeling that same spark of energy underneath their skin, the way the hairs on his arm stand up straight. But with support, Will makes progress and as Nico feels his mouth getting dryer and dryer, he knows he's going to have to leave Will alone, at least for a couple of minutes. "I need my soda. Are you good alone?" 

"I'm not five, Nico." 

"Just making sure." He slaps Will's back and he stumbles, flipping Nico off as he skates off. He half-walks half-skates over to their table, taking a long sip of his coke, letting it wash down his throat. He drains what must be half of the cup before he makes his way back over to the table, his skates slapping across the floor. He's barely back onto the rink when he hears a thud and when he glances all the way across the rink, his eyes falling on a head of wavy blonde hair wearing a thin orange tee-shirt, he sees him sprawled across the floor, reaching his arm up to pull himself back up with the railing. 

"Will?" 

"I really thought I'd be fine." 

"Yeah, so did I. I didn't think you were that bad." 

"Fuck you." Nico reaches out his hand and Will pulls himself up, his knee buckling slightly. There's a tear in his pants, revealing shredded flesh with flecks of blood already popping up. Will winces, brushing his thumb across the wound. 

"That looks like it hurts." 

"No, actually, I feel great. Never been better." 

"Come on, I'll see if I can find a band-aid or something. You're sure you're not going to fall again?" 

"Shut up." Still, he clings to Nico's arm, inching along across the floor so slowly that he's being passed by three-year-olds with light-up roller skates. Blood is dripping onto the shredded pants as he stumbles onto the rug, still holding onto Nico's arm until he takes a seat, wincing as he squeezes the scrape, watching the blood drip. 

"Is that going to be okay?" 

"It's a flesh wound, Nico. It's not deep and the blood will clot soon. There's a risk of infection but it's low for something this small, and if we get a band-aid, we'll be fine." Nico is quiet, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. "What?" 

"Nothing. You're just such a nerd." He laughs, and Will rolls his eyes, flicking a stray olive from the nacho plate at him. 

"I'm a doctor, Nico, I know about this stuff." 

"Aren't you, like, not a doctor yet?" 

"I'm kind of a doctor." He flicks another olive at him and Nico laughs, ducking. "I know how to do medicine. So, are you going to get me a band-aid, or am I going to have to do it myself?" He raises his eyebrows and there's a thin smile playing across his lips, one that sends butterflies through his stomach. 

"I'll get it." He thumps away as Will reaches for a napkin on their table, blotting out the blood. It doesn't look sanitary but Will is a kind-of doctor, so he probably knows what he's doing. 

He manages to find a band-aid from the DJ and he skates back over to Will, waving the band-aid in the air like it's a flag. "Check it out!" 

"Great job," Will says sarcastically, grinning softly never the less. Nico bends down, unwrapping the band-aid and laying it across Will's knee. It's one of the bigger ones so it covers all of the skin, nearly blending in. Nico smooths it down, making sure all of the edges stick. 

"It's like I'm you and you're me. Get it? Cause I'm, like, fixing you." 

"The only difference is that you're putting a band-aid on my scrape and I rubbed your back while you were throwing up from your concussion." 

"Yeah, well, that's your job. Kind of doctor." 

"Yeah." Will smiles, his eyes flitting to the ground. Nico isn't sure whether or not he's imagining it, but there seems to be a light blush spreading across his face, and he's pressing his lips together. "Thanks, though. It's nice." 

"Yeah, no problem." He's about to stand up, the wrapper of the band-aid crumpled up in his hand when Will sets his hand on Nico's arm, pulling him in and kissing him softly on the lips. He tastes of the nachos from before, but Nico's sure he tastes the same, so he can't exactly judge. Will's hand gives Nico's arm a light squeeze and Nico leans in closer, cupping Will's face in his. His skin is warm, either from the flush or just because people, normally, are warm. When they break apart Will is smiling, his hand still on Nico's arm and Nico's hand is still on Will's cheek, cupping it in his hands. They stay like that, skin on skin, and despite the time they've spent together, Nico with some odd injury and Will in a doctor's coat, it feels as if they're seeing each other in a new light for the first time.

Hi guys, just want to apologize because there's a good chance that a lot of this is incoherent, but I hope you liked it anyway!

Nina