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I love this so much Deaf Will solace is one of my favorite headcanons
you don't have to know what to say or what to think on ao3
The first time it happens, it's an honest mistake.
(The times after that are also honest mistakes, but Nico feels like he should've known better.)
He's been working really, really hard to learn American Sign Language. After his three days in the infirmary, after working night after night, talking to Mr. D, struggling to learn how to open up to other people and how to finally be a 15-year-old teenager who tries his best to not let his lifelong trauma get to him too much, Nico di Angelo had become close friends with one Will Solace.
He'd never thought he'd be able to have a friendship with someone like Will. Someone who didn't take shit from anyone—he made sure to make that clear—, but was doting and cared for everyone else, sometimes a little too much. Someone who was as bright as the sun itself, who could light stars in the sky just by smiling, who could coax Nico's fears out of him and make him feel equal, not judged.
Someone who Nico could see himself loving.
Okay, and, woah, that might be a little too far, but was he wrong? He was finally allowing himself to feel hope after The Incident (mental trademark), letting himself have friends and a crush that didn't feel like ripping his insides apart and stir-frying them for dinner. So what if Nico's eyes lingered a little too long on the way Will's hair glowed against the infirmary's emergency lights?
(“Nico, when the siren rings and lights up, you stop everything and you go help!”, Kayla had yelled at him the first time it happened. He only felt death in the air after Will finally started running after the patient.
It was that bad.)
Who could blame him, then, for wanting to learn the language the boy he liked felt more comfortable with? Will had assured him that he did just fine with English, that his Cabin Nine hearing aids worked more than perfectly, but Nico had seen the way he got excited whenever he got to sign with someone. There were a few Deaf demigods around camp and Will knew every single one of them. Sometimes, he would sign while speaking, and it made Nico's Italian self happy because hand gestures! Then it made Nico's gay self happy because Will's hands, oh my gods, and then Nico wanted to learn how to make Will's face light up like that.
So, he learned. He got familiar with the computer in the Big House, watching YouTube videos on the matter, practicing in the mirror, going up to other campers who were signers and fighting social anxiety like his life depended on it. He had nailed most stuff by week three. The power of hyperfixations.
He did it all hiding from Will, of course. It was meant to be a surprise. He would walk up to Will, sign something, and Will would be like, “Nico, I didn't know you signed!”, so Nico would reply, “I learned just for you!”, and they'd hold hands and kiss and skip into the sunset.
A guy can dream, right?
“Hey, Nico!” Will yells out from the infirmary steps. “I'm done with my shift. Wasn't expectin' to see you here.”
Gods, his accent is so cute.
“I just thought I'd stop by, see how you were doing,” says Nico, preparing himself mentally for what comes next. “I have a surprise for you, actually.”
“Oh, you do?” Will gives his side-tooth smile, the one he does when he's excited for something he doesn't want to show excitement over.
Nico takes a deep breath.
“Food-you-want?” He signs, slowly but surely. “Me-hungry.”
Will blinks.
“Do that again.”
A warm feeling bubbles up in Nico's chest. Embarrassment, adoration, nervousness, teenage crush? He doesn't really know. He only knows that Will's cheeks look flushed and his voice is barely above a whisper, a tone Nico doesn't get to hear often, so of course he signs his sentence again. He'd do anything Will asks for.
“Do the last sign again.”
“Hum,” Nico starts, feeling a little off. He signs it again, anyway, placing his hand shaped like a C in front of his torso, following a line from the center of his collarbones down to the middle of his chest, then vice-versa. “It means 'hungry'... Right?”
Will takes a deep breath, face redder than Nico's ever seen.
“It means 'hungry' when you do the movement once,” he explains, carefully, doing the sign. The same handshape and movement Nico did, but just once, from the collarbone to the middle of his chest. “When you do the movement twice… It means something else.”
“What does it mean?”
They stare at each other. Nico's eyes are wide. Will's eyes are so blue. Nico would pay more attention to the blue if he weren't so preoccupied with—
“It means 'horny'. You signed, I'm horny.”
—With running away.
☀️🤟🏻⭐️
The second time it happens, Nico is still embarrassed by the first one.
Maybe it had been his fault to not pay a lot of attention when the online video he was watching went over the five parameters of ASL. But it wasn't entirely his fault the two signs were so similar, right? Will assured him afterwards—after he found Nico and after a few awkward laughs—that it was a very, very common mistake. The signs were really similar, after all. Nothing wrong with admitting that.
Still, Nico couldn't help but feel his face heat up every time he remembered that day. He'd told his crush he was horny. Unwillingly, sure, but it was sort of true! Nico was still accepting what being horny meant, but he knew that, even in the mildest sense of the word, he was horny for Will. Embarrassing, but honest.
So now, they were hanging out in the Hades' cabin, just the two of us and a bunch of DVDs they'd stolen from the Apollo cabin and Chiron's stash in the Big House. A mix of old rom-coms, sci-fi, noir, and historical dramas, limitless options, but they still argued over what to watch.
Nico suggested, finally, Back to the Future. Will adjourned his case.
As Will walks back from the DVD player, having put the disk in there, Nico takes a deep breath.
“You-eat-want-what?” he signs, going over each sign in his head like a mantra. He does not need a repeat of last time. Then, he raises his eyebrows, signing, “Pizza?”
Will goes as red as a tomato in the face.
“N-No, I'm good,” Will stutters, fanning himself like Hazel does when she's shocked. “Not hungry.”
“You just came back from a 12-hour shift,” Nico deadpans.
“Let's just watch the movie.”
So Nico is taken back to nights at the Lotus Hotel, when they would have movie nights and play Back to the Future in a loop. Marty McFly might have been his first boy crush. Briefly, he imagined Will in a costume like that for Halloween. But, for now, they're doing just fine, thighs close enough to touch, Will's hand nearly making its way to Nico's scalp for some good head scratches, and life is good.
Sooner than Nico would've liked, it's curfew time. The DeLorean is long gone, and Will is rising up to his feet, stretching, his shirt riding up, and Nico sees the sliver of skin, with a little of hair on his navel, and, oh, gods, he shouldn't be seeing this, but Will is really handsome, and—
“Walk me out?” he says, sweet as ever, and Nico can't say no.
“I had a good time,” says Nico, leaning on the door panel. The moonlight makes Will's hearing aids glimmer.
“Me too,” Will replies, smiling. “The infirmary today was as excitin' as a mashed-potato san'which, good Lord.”
His accent got thicker the more tired he got, just like Nico's.
“Good-night,” Nico signs. “Sleep-good, you.”
Will's eyes linger on Nico's hands, then on his face. His expression is unreadable. It seems… fond? Happy? Nico doesn't know. He just knows he wants that big smile.
“By the way, Nico,” Will starts, voice a little serious, “this is how you sign 'pizza'.”
He goes through the motions. It's just fingerspelling, Nico notices. P-i-z-z-a.
Nico furrows his brows. “What did I sign?”
“You signed…” Will takes a deep breath. “You asked me if I wanted to eat, uh, the… The female genitalia.”
Nico slams the door so hard he doesn't know how Will keeps all of his teeth and nose intact.
☀️🤟🏻⭐️
The third time it happens, Nico is just plain tired.
He had been on a week-long trip for his father, working on some old business in Louisiana, fighting the occasional monster that came his way and shadow-traveling out of danger—no longer to an inch of his life because he didn't want to make Will worry about him. His clothes are a mess, his hair is greasy, there's soil built up under his fingernails, he hasn't had an actual meal in days, and he's exhausted to say the least.
After showering, eating, and bed-rotting any leftover worries away, he sleeps for fifteen hours straight. He wakes up still exhausted, though a little less, so he walks up to the infirmary since he has nothing better to do. Might as well get a check-up while he's there.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” he says to the head of blond hair when he sees it.
“Good afternoon, di Angelo,” Will replies, looking ready to tackle any challenge, bloody or non-human, that comes his way in his combination of scrubs, cargo shorts, and Jesus sandals. “You look like you're near 'bout past goin'.”
Nico doesn't know what he's saying, but shrugs anyway. “I'm tired.” Then, he signs, “Me-tired. Coffee, me-need.”
Will smirks.
“All you had to do was ask, Death Boy,” he replies, amused, and Nico lights up.
“You have coffee?” He doesn't know why Will looks so smug about coffee, in a way he's never looked before, but he lets himself be led to the infirmary kitchen, watches Will drape over the Nespresso machine, churning out a nice cup of pure, slightly-processed espresso.
The smell is enough to make Nico's eyes open a little more.
“Also,” Will says, putting his doughnut down by the table, still smirking for reasons unknown, “the sign for 'coffee' goes like this.”
He demonstrates. Nico barely follows, focused on taking a sip from his coffee.
“You signed, I need to make-out. You've gotta pay more attention, di Angelo, or— oh, my gods, Nico, breathe! You're gonna burn your throat! Nico!”
☀️🤟🏻⭐️
Nico is tired of failing.
It's not like he's failed-failed. Will has been more than helpful, willing to show him the ropes and correct his signs, and they've actually spent more time with the other Deaf campers, practicing and practicing. Nico is still fighting the flush that decorates his cheeks whenever he signs with someone else, but he's getting there. Anything for that megawatt Will Solace smile.
So, on the Fourth of July, as they're watching the fireworks, Will takes his hearing aids off, saying the noise makes it hurt. Nico gets a little antsy, but shakes it off, and would rather focus on the way the red, white, and blue from the sky makes Will's freckles change colors, too.
And he looks so good tonight. He ditched his usual medic attire for something still Will, a white tank top, denim shorts, an American flag bandana to keep his curls out of his eyes and flip-flops. Nico dressed similarly, but in a black t-shirt and black shorts, black socks and black sneakers. No bandana; only Will can pull it off.
The tank-top is low cut enough that Nico can see his tattoo peeking out. Gods, he's so beautiful, he thinks to himself, lost in thought he almost misses the way Will is waving his hand in front of Nico's face.
“Hi,” Will signs. “Here, fun.”
Nico nods.
“Confess-me,” Will signs. It's a closed fist by his sternum, opening outwards, like he's pulling something out of his chest. Nico translates it to, I need to tell you something, then nods again. Will takes a deep breath. “Me-like-you. Me-like-like-you.”
Nico's breath is stolen. He doesn't know where it went. He doesn't know what's going on. Off in the distance, someone whoops loudly and a group of campers cheer, but he can only focus on the opaque thump of the fireworks and his own heartbeat increasing pace against his chest. Will is staring at him, blue eyes like the sky, like the bandana, like the prettiest gemstone one could conjure.
“Sign-you-learn. Why? Me. Special-you. Me-like-you, why? You.” When he points at Nico, the final 'you', he does a flourish, like he's honoring Nico. You learned sign for me. You're special. I like you because you're you.
Nico feels words bubbling up in his throat, but doesn't let himself say anything. Instead, he moves his hands like he's practiced so many times in front of the mirror before.
“Me-like-you. Long-how? Long. Favorite-person, you-mine. Date-you, I want.”
I've liked you for a long time. You're my favorite person. I'd like to date you.
With that, he finally gets a megawatt Will Solace smile.