Chapter Text
Nico followed each step of the ladder up into the darkness. The attic. Classic. He looked back at his cliënt and raised an expectant eyebrow.
Sarah had apparently left all middle aged biker swagger at the rowdy bar she'd called him from last night, eyes nervously darting at the ladder, then even more nervously at him.
Nico smiled. “I'll go first”. He didn’t wait for a reply, sauntering right up. Sarah's quiet whimpers followed close behind him. He coughed out some dust that had snuck up on him in the dark.
As his eyes adjusted to the pale red light seeping through the curtains, Sarah crawled to his side and slowly raised a shaky hand. “There it is…!” she hissed sharp and loud.
Nico looked ahead at the culprit seated right in the middle of the attic. All the porcelain clowns gathered at the foot of the table it was displayed on, nearly managed to give the small, frail figure a kingly air.
Even obscured by the thick layer of dust covering the bell jar, Nico could see the doll’s sad porcelain face turn towards them. Of course, that wasn’t nearly as interesting to him as the translucent, smartly bespectacled man bent over the doll, painstakingly twisting its little neck just right…
The man kept his hollow eyes fixed on the doll, even adjusting his bowler hat to get a better view. He grabbed the doll’s withered silk sleeves and carefully started to move them, forming small and stiff movements. Almost like… Abstract dance…?
Sarah glared at the doll, trembling with terrified rage. “Why couldn't grandma be into stamps?!” she growled at it, almost daring to take a step closer. “I fucking hate clowns!”. She raised her fist at it and narrowed her eyes in disgust, the tears in the corners threatened to spill over.
“For Heaven's sake, Sarah…” the ghost grumbled. “For the last time! It’s not a clown! It’s a blasted mime!”. He jossled the tiny clown arms in frustration.
“Uhm, actually... It’s a pierrot” Nico pointed out.
The ghost fixed his eyes on Nico. They went as wide as his round glasses when he saw Nico look back, not at Sarah, but at him. His finger hesitantly let go of the doll to point at himself.
Nico held up his hands in a peaceful offer. “Technically you’re both right!” he said with exaggerated enthusiasm.
“My dear sir… You can actually… Hear me…?” the ghost stammered.
“Yup” Nico replied with a quick shrug.
“Jesus Christ” the ghost wheezed, mouth agape.
Nico smirked. “Wrong pantheon”.
The ghost didn’t seem to mind. He threw the pierrot across the room with excitement, bursting the bell jar into an explosion of shards and dust.
The loud crash instantly got overshadowed by Sarah's shriek, right into Nico’s ear. She quickly hid behind his back, peeking out wildly behind both of his arms. Nico stuck his elbows back to calm her down. And to force her in place, mostly…
The ghost didn’t pay any mind to her distress. Blurry, happy tears streamed down his face and dripped off his chin as he reached for Nico’s shoulders. Right through them.
Nico smiled back. “Alright. Stand still. This will only take a second” he told him, hand already in front of him.
The ghost’s toothy smile shattered into a toothy grimace. “Nooo!” he yelled, desperately swiping his hands through Nico’s shoulders. “I haven’t spoken to anyone in a hundred and eighty two years! I have so much to tell you! The reason I’m-!”.
Nico flicked his wrist. “Rest in peace” he cut in, releasing the energy between his fingers with a single snap. Sorry, man. Two hundred years for you. Regular wednesday for me…
The raggedy curtains fluttered. The ghost lit up, then dissipated in a swirl of dust wafting onto the heap of old furniture and boxes.
“Huh!” Sarah let out from behind his left arm. “Hah!” she let out from behind his right. She looked up at him. “You got it?!”.
“Yup” Nico assured her calmly.
She stepped out from behind his back, crouching down and inspecting the dust, then glanced back over at Nico. “Who was it? What did they want? Why were they here?” she rapid-fired at him.
Nico’s self-satisfied smile turned forced. “You know? He didn’t say…” he answered. He made sure to avoid Sarah’s questioning eyes for a bit, finding the doll instead, awkwardly sprawled out against a now dented cardboard box, but still perfectly intact. He pointed at it, realizing something more valuable than closure. “You might want to get that appraised, actually. I don’t think that’s a remake”.
Logan thrashed when Nico blew out of the shadows behind him, nearly falling off the couch. Not as battle ready as he used to be anymore, apparently?
“Honey, I’m home?” Nico tried jokingly.
Logan laid back down with a frustrated sigh, wiping a relieved smile onto his face. “Hey” he said flatly from under his hands.
“Rough day?” Nico asked, tossing his pay onto the coffee table.
Logan groaned in disagreement. “Just long”. He turned his head to look at the stack of bills. A grin spread on his face, not just amused. “I can’t believe you make a week’s wage in two hours…”.
Nico shrugged, turning away to hide his proud smirk. “What? The kids don’t tip well?”.
Logan snorted. “They do the fucking opposite… I’ve been giving Derek lunch money for what…? The entire school year now?”.
Nico hummed sympathetically, for both poor sods. “I can chip in?” he offered, only half joking.
Logan scoffed at the ceiling and closed his eyes. “Fuck off, yuppie scum…”.
Pity turned into a nagging feeling. Nico threw his coat over the couch and moved in. He pushed Logan’s knees aside and stabbed down both hands next to his face, locking Logan in place. Nico stared into his eyes. The amber darkened a bit. Hard to read. Harder to read than he was used to…
That can’t be good.
“Are you mad at me?” Nico asked carefully.
Logan’s eyes flashed in surprise. “No!” he croaked, grabbing onto Nico’s sides. “Did I sound angry?”.
Nico shook his head too. “No. Sorry. It’s just-?”. He stared deeper into the dark amber. “Are you alright?”.
Logan smiled reassuringly. “Yeah. Just tired”. He tugged on Nico’s shirt, trying to get him down. “Now, c’mere”.
Nico smiled back, leaning into him.
They pulled apart. They pulled apart again.
“Did you eat?” Logan asked.
“Did you cook?” Nico asked in turn with carefully hidden dread. Unsurprisingly, Logan considered recipes to be rules…
Logan shook his head. The reassuring smile shrunk into a guilty one. “I got take-out. Your usual. Didn’t know you were going to be out so late”.
Nico gave him a guilty smile back. “Sorry, I forgot to charge my phone…”. He rolled off the couch, onto his feet.
Logan did the same. He gestured to the kitchen. “I put it in the fridge”. He gestured at the hallway. “I’m going to bed”.
Nico took a second, then searched for the clock. Nine? At least three hours earlier than normal. “Wow. You’re really tired” he concluded.
Half a nod and half a hum were Logan’s only response, already on his way.
Nico’s thoughts spun along with his food in the microwave. He knew they weren’t twenty anymore, but wasn’t the decline supposed to be a little more gradual than this…? He thought old age would have at least given them the grace to wait until they’d reached their thirties before robbing them of their evenings…
An alarm went off. Nico kept his eyes shut. It did that every morning. Three beeps. Then it’d be off, he’d get his kiss on the cheek and he could get another half hour of sleep.
Four beeps.
Five?
Each beep got louder, more pressing.
Nico rolled over, seeing the faint glow of the screen pulse through the darkness behind Logan’s silhouette. The silhouette didn’t show any intention of moving.
Nico slid against Logan’s back, reaching over him and shutting off the blaring. He looked down at Logan, still dead asleep. Gentle, but intently, Nico shook his shoulder.
Nothing.
Alarm bells started right back up in Nico’s head, even louder than before. He grasped Logan’s hand and squeezed. Logan’s hands were warm. Logan’s hands were always warm. Why wasn't it warm?! He nearly slapped his hand onto Logan’s forehead. That got a reaction from both of them. Nico hissed at the heat. Logan gasped at his touch. With a deep sigh, he seemed to give in, pressing his face against Nico’s palm.
Nico tried to keep his hand as still as possible while panicking. His eyes hastily searched all around the darkness, not even sure what they were looking for. He closed his eyes and slowly forced the rhythm back into his breathing.
Logan let out a content little hum when Nico gently moved his hand, running it through his hair.
See? Good.
After a few strokes Nico forced himself to slip away. He snuck around the bed and turned on the least offensive lamp. Logan clearly didn’t even notice. Each breath sounded like punishment. The inhale forced labour, the exhale doing hard time… Painful, but steady. Apart from the red hue over his cheekbones, he was sickly pale.
A fever. Obviously. Nico already knew that. He turned the light off. Time to get useful. He was a responsible adult now. He had a thermometer now.
He tried again. For the third time. He kept his composure, but he wasn’t sure how many times it was going to take until he’d lose it. If he didn’t wake up this time, Nico was going to call Yan again, just to-!
Logan stirred under his hand. “Hah…?” he breathed out. He cracked open his eyes when Nico pulled back.
Nico let a single laugh slip, then quickly locked the rest of his excitement back behind a relieved smile. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
Logan shielded one eye from the sunlight with his hand, giving the bedroom a brief, wary look over. He squinted at Nico. “What day is it…?” he asked, voice hoarse and dazed.
Nico kept his hand on Logan’s shoulder, easing him back in place when he felt him try to move. “I called the school” he reassured him.
Logan groaned. “Oh…”. He covered both eyes, grinding his teeth. That answered Nico’s question more than words could.
“I called Yan too” Nico went on. “You gotta eat something”. He didn’t manage to make it sound lighthearted. He smiled wider to make up for it.
Logan gave his head a weak shake. “M’ not hungry…”.
Nico pursed his lips. “You’re sick. It’s got nothing to do with being hungry. It’s about getting better”.
Logan took a deep, disgruntled breath.
Nico dared to give him some soft, sympathetic pats on the stomach. “I’ll make you some soup”.
At that, Logan slid his hands up, keeping his hair out of his eyes. Dark amber flames flashed over at Nico in two thin streaks. The corner of his frown twitched. “Are we actually doing the ‘soup’ thing? You're so fucking elderly”. He sounded as amused as he didn’t. His voice was a bit heavier and lower, but for the first time so far, he sounded like himself.
Nico tried not to break. He needed to win this. “It's a classic for a reason”.
The frown twitched harder. “What reason?”.
Nico still didn’t break. He was going to win this. “I don't know…”. He threw some random hand gestures in. “Warm, easily digestible food?”.
The frown twitched much harder. Jerked, even. “Soup isn’t food”.
Nico laughed. He already got him. “Good, cause you're not hungry”.
Logan muffled his pathetic sigh by rolling over into his pillow. Butch flailed helplessly as Logan’s legs moved under him, barely staying afloat on the stormy waves of blankets.
Right after he turned the stove off, Nico’s phone rang for the second time. An anonymous number. Probably a client.
He debated letting it go to voicemail, but put on his work smile and picked up. He’d make it quick. No matter what. “Good afternoon, this is-”.
“I’m leaving you a one star review!” a very angry sounding man shouted into his ear.
Ah. The client he couldn’t reach this morning. The one he canceled, because of an emergency… “Of course!” Nico replied happily. “If you feel so inclined, you can build me a website and leave it there”. He almost hung up. The client’s angry roar kept him just interested enough not to do so.
“This is unacceptable! I’m entitled to the service I booked! For the day I booked it! It’s the law!” the man shouted out of his ass.
Nico’s work smile had sharp corners. “Don’t worry, sir. I’m fully aware of all legal requirements of our verbal contract. As such, I'll refund you the zero dollars you’ve already paid towards your deposit immediately. In fact, if you check behind your ear, you’ll find it already there!”
The client paused for a second. “You think this is funny?!”
“Yes. Very” Nico assured him. He dropped the pleasantries. “But less and less so. As I told you very clearly in the voicemail. I have an emergency to deal with. If you want to continue this conversation, we can do so in court”.
His almost ex-client paused again “… Maybe we can reschedule? I can have the deposit wired to you by the end of next week” he offered instead, voice meek.
“That would be great” Nico lied. “I’m free any weekday, four weeks from now” he told him, adding an extra week out of spite.
“Same day four weeks from now would be perfect” the client meeked on.
“Wonderful” Nico replied with an actual, genuine smile. He was going to summon so many poltergeists that day! His excitement died the moment he put his phone down. Right in front of the bowl of soup… Any exorcist knew, ghosts were a lot easier to deal with than demons…
Nico put on his work smile once more, carefully kicking the door open. It creaked ominously, warning him of the evil lurking behind it. And warning the evil of his own presence.
Logan slowly turned his face. Just enough to reveal the burn of one restless flame. It scorched the bowl of holy liquid in Nico’s hands.
“You need to” Nico pressed, taking a step towards him. “It’ll be easier while it’s still hot”.
Logan turned his face further, burning him with both restless flames. “I’ll throw up” he warned. Threatened?
… Nico inhaled the heavy silence. “Yeah. Alright. I just want to…”. His fake smile broke, so did his tone. “Help you”.
The fires snuffed out. Instantly. Logan punched his hands into the mattress and pushed, slowly rattling himself into a sitting position. “Yeah.” he grunted breathlessly. “I know.”
Nico cursed to himself, forcing the tears back down further with every step. The useless mush sloshed over the rim when he rushed the bowl down on the nightstand. He hastily grabbed onto Logan to help him upright.
Logan took a break catching his breath to get out some painful sounding coughs. His eyes found Nico’s. The fire was back. Warm and comforting.
Nico sucked in his lips. “I’m s-”.
Logan nudged his shoulder. “Nope…” he breathed. He bumped their foreheads together. Still burning up… “Thank you” he added with a soft whisper.
They reluctantly pulled back. Their eyes darted at the bowl, then back at each other.
Logan took a deep breath, smiled, and held out his hand. “Bring it on”.
Nico gave him a dutiful nod and swiped the bowl off the nightstand, into Logan’s hands. Logan forced his jaws apart and shoveled two spoonfuls into his throat, not managing to hide the sheer amount of willpower he needed to do so.
Butch parkoured up to them at the sound of cutlery and launched himself into Nico’s lap. Merely to get a good view at Logan’s. He gave the soup a suspicious look over and a single half assed sniff. He turned away and landed on the ground with an offended thud. If a cat could stomp off…
Logan snickered, quickly taking another bite when Nico cast a glare at him.
Nico’s glare turned into a pout. “You both suck…”.
Logan gave him a guilty smile. “My bad, Spooky. It’s really-” he cut himself off. “I really appreciate it” he corrected.
Nico groaned and got up, away from these haters.
The dishes were Logan’s chore. They’d never decided that, it just was. Nico couldn't even remember the last time he'd done them. He tried to anyway, stabbing the knife into the drying rack. His own bowl bobbed up in the suds. He held it down and scrubbed rigorously. That was good soup, damn it!
The sponge stopped mid scrub, looking up at Nico from right below the surface with a horrified smile. Did he just hear the toilet flush? No… Right? He’d checked just a minute ago, when he went to steal the bowl. Logan had already been out cold. The sponge reluctantly finished the scrub.
The toilet flushed again.
Gods fucking damn it! Not this shit again!
Nico smacked the sponge onto the countertop, already halfway out the kitchen door. He stopped running the same time the faucet did.
Logan had left the door open.
Nico shoved it out of the way. “Are you serious!? You haven't learned anything! If you need to use the bathroom, ask for-!”.
Logan cut him off with a dry heave. And another one. His knuckles whitened when he tightened his grip on both sides of the toilet bowl. His arms trembled trying to support him. “I was in a rush”. The flat tone echoed in the porcelain.
Nico clicked his tongue, rubbing his back through the final, driest heave. He helped Logan fold himself back upright. “Still… Screw the rug. You could have hurt yourself” he squeezed into Logan’s arm.
Logan hummed in half hearted agreement, eyes still on the toilet bowl. He sniffed, punched the lever down one last time and turned his weak smirk to Nico. “See?” he panted. “It’s not food”.
Nico rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “I’m putting you back in bed”.
Logan grabbed Nico’s other hand and pulled both arms around himself. He leaned onto him, definitely not as casual as he was trying to make it look. “Oh? You think you can make me?”.
Nico tightened his grip on him. “Do you want me to carry you?”.
Logan scoffed, giving him an unimpressed look. “Not the direction I was going for…”.
“You know I can” Nico bragged. “I’ve done it before”.
Logan snickered with a hint of pity. “Not anymore, old man. You've got enough back problems as it is”.
Nico leaned back to look down on him with more weight. A familiar pain stabbed him in the back. His sneer fell flat. “Jerk” he decided, already hooking Logan’s arm over his shoulder and dragging him along.
He dropped him onto the bed, expertly prying Logan’s arms away from the back of his neck before he could pull him down on him. He snuck away.
“Where are you going?” Logan asked, arms still reaching for him.
“Getting you more soup” Nico replied.
“Nohohooo…” Logan whined behind him.
Nico ignored him, doing what needed to be done.
“You're being so mean today!” Logan yelled after him, voice cracking in emphasis. “And not in the hot way!” he cracked even louder.
“Yeah, well, you’re being extra annoying today!” Nico yelled back from the kitchen. “Also not in the hot way!”.
Logan was still pouting when Nico returned.
Nico pretended not to feel sorry for him, plopping the soup in his hands. Seemingly realizing pity wasn’t going to work, Logan tried a defiant look.
“I put some nectar in it” Nico manoeuvred around it.
Logan furrowed his brow. He glanced at the soup. “That can’t work” he told it. He glanced back up at Nico. ‘Right?’ he didn’t ask.
“Sure does” Nico assured him. “Yan’s advice”.
Logan gave up, not even bothering with the spoon. He put the bowl to his lips and took a large swig. “Little traitor…”.
Nico watched the last sip intently. “Better?” he asked hopefully.
Logan smirked as he handed him the bowl back. “Still just a warm smoothie…” he complained with a small hint of guilt.
Nico sighed through his grin. He pressed his finger on Logan’s lips and leaned in. “Shhhhhhuthefuckup” he whispered sweetly into his ear.
A devious flicker went through Logan’s eyes. He bit Nico’s finger and tugged.
“Nope”. Nico pulled it out between his teeth and wiped it on Logan’s cheek. “Stop it. We're not doing that”.
“You sure? You might actually win this time~!” Logan mused.
“I already won last time” Nico countered, leaning in closer.
“I let you win last time” Logan returned, also leaning closer.
“Lie down” Nico ordered.
Logan’s smile beamed with hope.
“And go to sleep” Nico meant. Obviously.
All hope was lost. No smile survived.
The crack in the door kept beckoning him. Nico finally gave in. He leaned against the doorway, admiring him from afar.
Logan had kicked most of the blankets off of himself. The sunlight cleaved the curtains, putting the spotlight on Logan’s upper body. What was supposed to be dewy skin was now downright rainy. Every rise and fall sent a shimmer over the rugged view.
Logan’s arm stretched down over the edge of the bed. The back of his fingers on the floor. They twitched. Logan's breath hitched.
Nico was already beside him.
Logan hacked out some coughs, then relaxed.
Nico lowered his shoulders. False alarm. He should have figured. It had been years. He wondered why his mind went there. To those old memories. He crouched down next to Logan's bedside, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them. He tilted his face to mirror Logan’s, shamelessly admiring him from up close. Still surprisingly boyish, still unsurprisingly charming. Undeniably gorgeous.
Nico couldn’t help compare to the first time he’d seen him like this. So vulnerable. It must have been the dark circles, darker than they’d been in years. Maybe the bright red contrast to the pale glow… His eyes slid lower. Light as a feather, he traced the ancient ruins of the bitemark. Rarely visible, but always catching his eye.
He looked back up. Some things had changed. He ran his hand through what was technically not even really an undercut anymore. The spiky strands bounced back instantly, now smoothing instead of bristling under his fingers.
Logan mumbled a question.
Nico almost missed it, but didn’t. No way he was going to let it go. “Nico?” he repeated with a smug delight. “Are we on a first name basis now?”.
Logan smiled too at the sound of his voice and cracked his eyes open.
Nico pushed his hair out of them. “Your hair's getting long”.
Logan closed his eyes again, furrowing his brow. “Yours is longer” he mumbled accusatorily, shoving his hand right in Nico's face before finding his hair, messing it up.
Nico kept smiling despite the annoyance, grabbing Logan's hand and pinning it down between them. “I'm not complaining”.
Logan raised his eyebrows back up. “Oh? You like it wild?” he mused weakly, eyes still closed.
The annoyance melted into an even wider smile. “If I didn't, I never would’ve stuck around so long”.
They moved in, chuckling quietly.
Nico pulled away. The unnatural warmth of Logan’s lips reminded him he shouldn’t let himself get distracted. He reached for the thermometer. Last time he’d looked at it, it had been trembling between his fingers. “You know? This morning, if it had been just half a degree higher, we’d be in the infirmary right now”.
Like always, Logan missed the entire point. He snickered. “You probed me in my sleep? Like an alien?”.
Nico blinked extra long, savouring the single second of peace. “It’s an oral thermometer. Now shut your mouth and open your-”. His eye twitched.
Logan laughed. Good. Nico didn’t hesitate, grabbing his chin and shoving the thermometer in. Logan’s laugh turned into a gag.
They glared at each other for exactly forty seconds.
“Beep” the thermometer beeped awkwardly.
Nico took it out.
Logan cocked his head. “What’s my score?”.
“Down almost two degrees” Nico breathed in relief.
Logan scrunched his face. “Two? This is going to take days…”.
“Of course it’s gonna-!”. Nico snapped his mouth shut, staring at him in disbelief. “You were half dead just hours ago. Did you seriously think you were going back to work tomorrow?!”. He shook his head, tucking the thermometer away in the drawer. “Gods, you’re so impatient…”.
Logan snorted. “Not nearly as impatient as you”.
Nico stabbed his eyes into him. “Bullshit”. He smacked the drawer shut, just like this conversation.
Logan’s eyes twinkled a mischievous orange.
“Bullshit” Nico repeated with a definitive finger in Logan’s face. He turned to walk away.
Whatever.
Not worth it.
He turned back around, raising his voice at him. “I spent an hour trying to teach you Mythomagic!”.
Logan raised his voice right back at him, as well as he could. “That was way worse for me than it was for you!”
“No” Nico replied coldly. “It wasn’t.”
Logan inhaled sharply, then gave up with a huff. A faint smile spread on his lips. “Sweeping it all off the table was fun, though…”
Nico stayed suspiciously quiet. He actually turned to walk away this time, back to the kitchen. His only safe space in this Gods forsaken house.
Despite the unusual day, they’d ended up in one of their most usual after dinner activities. Watching a horror movie in bed. One of the very few perks of having a smartphone. Scream. Nico didn’t even know which one. They were all basically the same movie, anyway.
Logan had been asleep since at most ten minutes in, right on Nico’s shoulder.
Nico glanced at him. The peaceful look on his face almost made up for the fact he’d left Nico to deal with his nerves all by himself… And man, was this movie getting on his nerves. “Its obviously the cop!” he hissed at the small screen, barely able to keep himself from tossing it into the wall.
Logan activated like a sleeper agent. “Thas the last one…” he mumbled in his ear.
Right… Nico shook his head as the plot twisted itself into a knot. “Gods, this one is probably the stupidest yet”.
Logan shrugged against him. “I like it…”.
Nico kissed his forehead. Me too…
Somewhere around brutal murder seven, Nico’s shoulder quit its job. Barely awake, Logan still noticed, gracelessly rolling himself off. Nico didn’t agree, rolling after him and snaking an arm around him.
Logan’s back seeped through Nico’s shirt. It was like holding a space heater, dialed up to eleven… The warmth was unbearable. Nico pressed against it as much as possible, trying to give some back with the futile hope it would make Logan stop shivering.
Nico slid one hand down on Logan’s stomach, to keep track of his breathing. He stretched the other out ahead, over them, keeping up the shitshow on the little screen.
He couldn’t tell if Logan was still watching, still sleeping, or any combination of those things. Very carefully, he lifted his chin off Logan's shoulder and peered over it, trying to check. Logan used the opportunity to steal a kiss.
Nico nuzzled back to his spot in Logan’s neck. “You smell sick” he thought to himself out loud.
Logan reacted anyway. “What’s that mean…?”.
Nico thought about it some more. “The pinewood is soggy” he explained.
Logan’s shoulder gave a little jerk. “… What? Gross”.
Nico shook his head. “No. Like summer rain in the woods. Still nice”.
Logan hummed, not sounding all that convinced. “I better take a shower”.
After helping Logan in the shower, Nico rummaged through the pile of not that dirty shirts. The ideal state of cleanliness for sleeping in. One of them felt different. Worn thin. He dug it up and held it in front of him. The Scream mask was so faded there was barely a silent shriek left. Perfect.
Logan rolled over, in time to see him put it on. “You still have that?” he asked.
“Of course I do. It's my favourite. I’m never throwing it out” Nico admitted. “And it seemed fitting”. He gestured vaguely at the mask. He sat down next to Logan.
Logan seemed happy enough with that answer, laying his head down in Nico’s lap and looking quite pleased with himself. He tried to see what Nico gathered from his nightstand. “Dark, dramatic poetry?” he asked, pleasantly surprised. “Been a while”.
“Yeah” Nico agreed, giving him a meaningful side-eye. “No emo shit this time, though. Special occasion” he set up ominously.
Logan’s brow furrowed. “Hah”. His eyes went wide. He grasped at his old shirt and yanked himself up in Nico’s face. “What day is it?” he asked for the second time, voice still hoarse, but a lot less dazed.
Nico chuckled, low and evil.
“Shit!” Logan shouted.
“Calm down” Nico said in his worst Logan impression. “It’s just a day”.
A flashfire of frustration flared up in Logan’s eyes, then sizzled out when he closed them in defeat. He dropped his face on Nico's shoulder and dragged his arms around him.
Nico pressed his cheek against the side of his head, rubbing it in. He gave Logan some reassuring pats on the back, smiling at the words he was about to write on the paper in front of him. “Happy anniversary” he said lovingly.
“Happy anniversary” Logan grumbled back.
Nico shut his mind off and started writing. One by one, the words flowed out of his pen. “Done” he realized with equal pride and dread.
Logan stirred. “Wait… Does this mean I get to read this one?”.
Nico sucked in his lips, expression softening at the poem. “Yeah”. Taking extra care, he tore the page loose.
Logan smiled. He propped himself up next to him and reached out.
Nico went to hand it over, then pulled back. “It’s really short”.
Logan smiled wider. He reached out again.
Nico went to hand it over, then pulled back again. “English isn’t my first language”.
Logan’s smile twitched. He reached out again.
Nico went to finally hand it over, then pulled back even further. “It’s bad!”.
Logan laughed. “Stop blue balling me, dude! Either give me the love letter, or don’t!”.
Nico laughed too, awkwardly. He shoved the poem in Logan’s hand before he could change his mind.
Seeing Logan’s eyes move over the lines was unbearable. Nico swallowed and forced his own eyes away from Logan’s and onto the paper. He dropped his head on Logan’s shoulder, trying to keep his breathing under control as he sped over every word.
Love
Just one small word, for many big feelings
When I add more, I somehow say it less
What seems complicated, can be so simple
When you look at me, it fills me completely
Only one small word, and many big feelings
Logan read it three times. He smiled fondly at the paper. “I love it” he said softly. He turned his fond smile to Nico. “I love you” he said even softer, eyes glowing warm.
Nico spilled over. “I love you” he said back.
Logan held out the poem for him.
“Keep it” Nico insisted. “Doesn’t fit in there”. He tapped his bedside drawer. Stuffed with an ever growing collection of crumpled paper. Too worthless to reread, too precious to throw away.
Logan let out a single touched little laugh. He took a last look at the paper, then pulled open his own drawer.
Nico stifled a chuckle when Logan tenderly placed the T-rex tooth on top, reducing it to a twenty thousand dollar paper weight. Not that he had any idea, of course. Not that it would have made any difference if he did, of course… He shook his head and laid down, pulling the covers up. “Thanks for reading it”.
“Thanks for letting me read it”. Logan did the same, one goodnight kiss away from him.
Nico waited patiently, a bit more eager than usual.
“Piercing eyes again?” Logan teased.
Nico moved closer, unable to wait any longer.
He pulled away as little as possible, piercing deeper into the sunny amber.
No.
Not yet.
He was getting there. Some day. But right now, he still couldn’t see all the way through him.