Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nico is sitting on the stone fireplace in the dining pavilion when he spots Annabeth marching across the lawn.

He is immediately struck by the impression that she’s been looking for him, probably because who else would she be looking for outside in the middle of the night? It’s just after one o’clock, black except for the sparse torches and the flickering light from the dying fire. Hestia has long returned to the hearths of Olympus. All the other campers are asleep in their cabins, except him, because he doesn’t sleep, and Annabeth, because…

“Nico…”

When he meets her eyes, his heart clenches. She has clearly been crying, though all that remains of the evidence was the incriminating redness and the swollen eyelids. Her pack is slung over her shoulder, though it isn’t latched and doesn’t look full, like she packed without much care as to what she was grabbing. Which is, of course, not possible. 

“Annabeth? What are you doing out here? What’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head, biting her lip, but her eyes remain dry. They are wide and bright, like a rabbit’s. Nico realizes she’s terrified.

“I can’t… I can’t help him. Nico-“

“Annabeth, what is it? Is Percy alright?”

“No.” Her voice breaks, but he’s seen enough fear to know, she is beyond crying. Without warning, she collapses onto him. Her hands cling to his jacket, her face presses to his chest. “No, he… he needs you, Nico. He won’t talk to me, he knows I’m, that I’m too… he needs you. Help him.”

Nico lifts his arms towards her, to do what, he isn’t sure, but she is already backing away. She doesn’t run, probably because she knows he won’t chase her, but she holds his gaze for a few more heartbeats before turning and disappearing into the night.

 

Nico would like to say he went straight to Percy, forced him to talk, but he didn’t. He sat by the fading coals for most of the night until he couldn’t stand it, finally wandering towards the green light of the Hades cabin and collapsing onto his bunk, staring at the stone ceiling. He knows Percy isn’t in any mortal danger, he’d be able to feel it, but every time he thinks about going to him, he wants to be sick. Percy doesn’t need him. He needs Annabeth, to breathe, to tie his shoes, to wrap his arms around at the campfire, to spend the rest of his life…

Yeah, sick.

Nico can’t think of anything Percy has ever needed him for, except occasional creepy ideas about how to defeat immortal titans using undead armies and lethal rivers. And since they laid waste to Gaea, Nico has barely been out the Underworld. There’d been too much to do below, and since the last battle, Nico hasn't been too anxious to speak to anyone.

He hasn’t heard any complaints.

Nico loiters around camp the next day, waiting for Percy to emerge. He doesn’t. No one seems too surprised not to see the son of Poseidon, and there isn’t one mention of his absence all day. Nico even tries to talk to Chiron about it over dinner, but the centaur just averts his eyes and deflects all questions. The daylight flies by like it always does for Nico, just the time between nights, and soon it is dusk again, and he is outside the Poseidon cabin.

It takes him nearly a half hour to knock, but before Nico has enough time to feel appropriately pathetic, the apparently unlocked door swings open.

Nico peers inside the cabin. None of the lanterns are lit, but he can see an empty, unmade bed in the fading sunlight. He steps inside, breathing deeply despite himself, feeling the sea air wash over his skin. It makes him calm and tense all at the same time, but before he can berate himself for this, a figure appears from the back room of the cabin.

“Nico?”

He can never help the impulse to stare at Percy, though thankfully most people seem to assume it is a prolonged glower. It doesn’t sink in until now how long it has been since he’s seen the boy, man really, and yet how perfectly his image is etched into his mind. Tall, with long legs and broad shoulders, strong, looming half a head over him, just radiating power and promise.

But when Nico meets his eyes, all preconceptions of Percy Jackson fly from his mind, because this is someone entirely new.

It is clear he hasn’t slept, at least in the past 48 hours. There are dark rings around his eyes, and his angular face looks gaunt and tired. He is the picture of unkempt, orange t-shirt wrinkled, hair too long and in his eyes. But when Nico finally makes eye contact, he can’t help but take a step back, because this is Percy like he’s never seen him. This man is tortured.

“Nico...” his voice rasps, and Nico feels the desperation wash over him like a stifling lack of wind on a becalmed ship.

“Percy,” Nico can never seem to stop his voice from catching on the name, but he perseveres. “What’s going on?”

Percy steps forward, shaking a little like someone who hasn’t slept for so long they’ve come around full circle from tired to manic. It’s a state Nico is very familiar with.

“What are you doing here?”

“Annabeth sent me.”

“Annabeth is gone.” 

Nico frowned, “What do you mean, gone?” 

“She… left. Me. She left me.” 

That wasn't really the vibe Nico got from her the night before, but he keeps quiet. Percy holds his gaze, coming further out of the shadows, and Nico wonders in the back of his mind if this is how he himself looks all the time. If it is, as he suspects, it’s no wonder no one will talk to him.  

“Why are you here, Nico?”

Nico swallows nervously. Percy is getting closer to him. Why is he here, again?

“I, um… Annabeth wanted me to talk to you. She seemed upset. She said something was wrong, that I would understand.”

Percy is already shaking his head, but his next words don’t match his expression.

“I haven’t seen you in a while… Really, not since the final battle. That was the last time we… talked.”

Nico feels a lump in his throat, making it difficult to swallow. Percy is right in front of him now, looking down, green eyes completely wrecked, and Nico knows, knows exactly how, if not why, he is feeling, because it is exactly how he feels every day.

Like he has absolutely nothing left to lose.

“Was it true?" 

“What?” 

“What you said, was it true?”

“I say a lot of things, Percy. Most of them aren’t true.” 

Percy scoffs, an unnatural laugh that holds none of his usual humor or mirth.

“That’s a lie, on both counts.” A pause, and then, “Was it true, what you said. That you loved me.”

Oh, the interminable silence. There is something in Percy’s voice, though, something about the way he says the word, that grates against Nico’s brain. Loved, like it is preposterous, like who could love Percy Jackson? For some reason, Nico feels a sudden rush of anger at his intentions being questioned, and it makes his next words a bit more honest than originally planned. 

“Who said anything about past-tense, you fucking idiot.” 

Percy had been staring at the floor, but his eyes snap to Nico’s, like this is the last thing he’d expected to hear, like nothing had prepared him, even though it really hadn’t been that long ago, Nico shouting it in his face in the midst of a war, before stomping off to get himself killed.

Percy is right up in his space now, not touching, but breathing the same air in a way Nico is all too aware of.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” 

“Why do you love me.” 

It is more of a statement than a question, but Nico answers him anyway, with the same blunt, occasionally tactless way he tends to say everything. 

“It’d be faster to list the reasons that I shouldn’t-”

 

And Percy’s mouth is on his. Nico almost definitely makes some sort of horrific squeaking noise, but there is no time to process it, no time to feel the burning heat of someone else’s lips, no chance to process the calloused hands on his face, because his fight-or-flight reflex is on, and with Percy, well, there is only ever one choice.

Nico panics and staggers back, out of contact. He feels a strong hand close on his wrist before he even sees Percy’s eyes shatter completely.

“Wait!”

 

And then he freezes.

Later, he would compare it to firm grip closing off his windpipe, except it extended to every inch of his body. The gravity of a thousands worlds was pulling him down, crushing him into a diamond, and yet he could not collapse. Suddenly he could feel everything, and move nothing. The still air gusted against his eyes, but he could not blink, pushed at his lungs, but he could not inhale, dried his mouth, but he could not swallow. He could hear energy, the hearts of every living thing beating, because the sound of his own life had stopped completely.

Later, Nico would describe this feeling. But then, in that infinite second, all he is capable of is the complete and all consuming panic of knowing your blood has stilled in your veins. He feels his heart struggle in his chest to move the fluid-turned-stone around it, and listens to his cells scream for oxygen, running out in three… two… one…

And then the universe lets go, and he crumples.

 

“Oh gods… Nico… Nico…”

 

Percy’s voice is drowned out by the roar in his ears and the sound of his knees hitting the stone floor of the cabin. He collapses, barely catching himself on his palms, and buckles under the sudden weight. The feeling like your throat expanding after being choked to the point of suffocation rolls throughout every inch of his vasculature, a torrent of pressure, his own blood was a waterfall in his ears. His head feels like it’s going to explode into a new universe, and then, face to the floor, his lungs jump start, he chokes on his own breath, and it is over.

Still, he feels it is fair to take his time getting up. Slowly, he rolls onto his back and hacks a few breaths. He experimentally wiggles his fingers and toes, both checking for function and indulging in the motion. Finally, he pulls himself upward, and tilts his head up to see Percy, towering over him, arm still outstretched.

When Nico reaches up to take his hand, Percy staggers backward, almost falling, completely across the small room.

“Don’t touch me.”

The words are a scream and a whisper all together. Percy collapses onto his bed when his knees hit, hands clenching against the frame, chest heaving. His eyes are wild with panic.

Nico stands, bracing himself against the footboard, feeling about a thousand times more tired than he had on any of his accidental shadow trips to China. He sighs deeply, and it makes his heart ache.

“I see.”

Percy shuts his eyes, and Nico sees the tears, falling in familiar, well-traced patterns down his face. 

“When did you figure it out?” 

Percy just shakes his head, but Nico slowly moves towards him, like he is a spooked animal in a corner. The older boy throws up his hand, and Nico curses himself as his body instinctively flinched away. This is not the time to show fear. For once, he does understand, he is in exactly the right place at the right time, and he might be the only person alive who can help.

He asks again, trying to be firm but kind, a level of verbal delicacy he doesn’t usually indulge in. “Tell me, Percy. When?”

“Tartarus,” Percy whispers.

Nico nods, unsurprised. “Tell me,” he repeats, softer.

He watches as his friend curls inward, head to his hands. “It was… towards the end. After the curses, the swamp. A-Annabeth and I, we found Misery, Akhlys, for the Death Mist. She… Akhlys, she wouldn’t help. She attacked me, flooded the ground with poisons, like a lake, and I felt the water in them…”

Nico kneels at his friend’s feet, nodding, trying not to shudder at the proximity. Percy continues, his voice even softer.

“So I forced them back at her, and the fumes, they were burning the air. Her eyes started to water, and her nose, and I realized… I realized I could…”

He looks up, with a face that could haunt a ghost.

“I choked her. On her own snot and tears and spit. I forced them back into her eyes and lungs, and she retched and gagged. I could tell, I knew if I pushed just a little more, I could make her eyes explode, I could drain her completely. I wanted to. And Annabeth… Annabeth… she stopped me. She told me to stop, but her eyes, I could see, she was so afraid, not of Akhlys, but of… me.”

Nico nods, but he knows there is more. Unbidden, just the tips of his fingers trace the loose denim of Percy’s jeans. His hand travels up, undetected, until suddenly his hand is on his friend’s knee, thumb just hooking around the back, just but not quite holding, and Percy’s eyes are boring into his, looking so afraid, so broken, and so hopeful at the same time, that Nico’s hand shakes.

“And then what.”

Percy exhales and Nico realizes he hadn’t been breathing.

“And then… the war. Distracting. I forgot, but I didn’t… not really. It was like someone opened a floodgate in my brain. The water. The feeling… that everything is just… water. I couldn’t make myself forget.”

“And then, months later. I was asleep, and Annabeth was here… and I was dreaming. Of that day, below Rome, of holding her, of being the only connection between her at the blackness of the pit. Of gripping her wrist so tightly, of needing to never let go, and knowing that the only option was falling.”

Nico hangs his head, not wanting to remember, but unable to stop. That day, the worst day, looking into Percy’s eyes and seeing him make the choice, with no hesitation, to fall, to be with her, and seeing him disappear into the dark.

“I don’t know why I woke up, but when I did, it was to her eyes, wide in fear, and her frozen body. I realized I had been holding her, all of her, her veins, her cells, and I let go, I don’t know how, but I did. But the feeling, the knowledge of what I had done, what I could do. It wouldn’t go away.”

“It got worse, and worse. Happened more often. She refused to give up, to stop touching me, but it wasn’t just in dreams, whenever we’d touch, and I’d think of losing hold, it would happen again, and again… And I could tell, she was so scared, and that just made it worse…”

Percy looks up, his eyes bright and wet.

“And now she’s gone.” 

Nico grips his leg, just slightly harder, “Percy, she loves you.”

“I couldn’t… I wouldn’t touch her, not for weeks-“

“Did you for one second consider maybe that was why she left?”

Percy’s eyes harden, but Nico leans back on his heels, raking his free hand through his hair. His mind is racing.

“She must’ve guessed. Annabeth would’ve figured it out, the connection. She knew about me. That’s why she came to me, the last resort.”

“What do you mean, came to you?”

“Percy, give me your hand.” 

Percy starts to shake his head, so Nico grabs the arm that was pressed to the bedspread. Long fingers close around the wrist, pulling it between them. 

“Open your palm.”

Slowly, Percy unfurls his clenched fist. Nico slides his hand along Percy’s, mirroring their fingers. Where they touch it felt like his skin is burning. Nico closes his eyes, trying to focus. It’s hard with Percy so close, touching him, breathing the same air, and yet, easier, because after all, this is the boy that started it all in the first place.

 

He feels, more than hears, Percy’s gasp, the sudden patch of air missing from the room. He opens his eyes, and watches as Percy’s fingers slowly bend, one by one, in a wave, up and down, left and right. The rest of the older boy’s body vibrates, just slightly, but just his fingers flutter, in quick, jolts of movement. Like a puppet.

Nico exhales, and Percy’s arm drops to his lap, free from the invisible grip. Nico heaves great breaths, feeling light headed.

Percy flexes his fingers, grimacing with was Nico knows is a dull ache, “What… what was that.”

“Remember, thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return.”

Percy deadpans, “That’s an odd sentiment for a time like this.”

“Relevant, though. The Christians got some things right. Bones are just stone, Percy. Skeletons, just minerals, like rock. Eventually, everything is earth, and earth is everything. I was never sure, but I suspect this might be part of being a child of the Big Three. The gods said it, we’re too powerful, but I don’t think it’s about moving stones or oceans. I think it was because of this. Because of what we can do.”

Nico takes Percy’s hand from his lap, just holding it in his palms.

“It takes special circumstances, to realize it. A type of person. The implications, it doesn’t just happen on accident. You have to want it. There has to be no other choice. You and I, we’re the same. There’s a darkness… not bad, just, complex. Another level, deeper than other people have. It’s how we survive, how we can always do what it takes to keep going, even at great cost. So, we have that capacity, but it has to awaken. At some point, we have to call it.”

For a second, he thinks Percy might protest. That they aren’t the same. Percy is good, pure, and Nico is… not. But they both know the truth, what is under the surface. It takes a certain mind to take this control.

“When?”

Nico frowned, “What?”

Percy swallowed, “When did you find out? When did it start?”

Nico actually finds himself smiling, and from the look on Percy’s face, the smile is more than slightly manic. Probably not the expected expression, or the one that is appropriate, but for some reason, Nico cannot stop himself.

“Styx. I found out at the Styx.”

“When…?”

Nico raises an eyebrow, not quite repressing a crazy laugh, “When do you think?” 

“The Mark of Achilles?”

“How do you think you got back to the surface?”

Percy’s brow furrows, and Nico knows he is thinking of that day, when he risked his life on the suggestion of a boy who not an hour earlier sold him out just for the chance of a pat on the head from a god.

Nico feels a blush rise on his cheeks, thinking of how he reached out into the dark waters of the Styx with his mind, looking for the boy below the surface, and how he needed him to live through this, need him to live at all, and knew he wasn’t going to make it, wasn’t going to resurface, and it was so impossible to even consider that option that he found himself finding the bones inside the boy and pulling them back to the surface, fortunately along with the rest of him. How, after everything, it didn’t even matter that the boy survived the curse thanks to his beautiful, blonde best friend, because he would’ve never lived to tell her about it if it hadn’t been for Nico.

He is inordinately and irrationally pleased to realize Percy is thinking along the same lines.

Percy clears his throat, “Well, um… thank you. I would’ve thanked you earlier, you know, but I didn’t… didn’t know it was you, really. You all along. I think I should’ve known but… I didn’t.”

Just like everything Percy ever didn’t know. Nico’s blush thickens, so he covers it like he always does. With cynicism.

“Hey, don’t be too grateful. It wasn’t an entirely selfless act.”

“How do you mean?”

Nico sighs, “Percy, in Tartarus, when you fought Misery, what made you realize you could control the water in her body? What pushed you to that point?” 

“I… I was desperate-“

“Yes, but why?”

“Because… because it couldn’t end like that. Me, and Annabeth, we couldn’t be done. There was supposed to be so much more for us, for her, and I just, I would’ve done anything, literally anything, any horrible, twisted thing to make it not be the end. No line I wouldn’t have crossed, to not have to give that all up. Even if what I had to do meant it would never be the same.”

“Well, now you know why I saved you from the Styx. Though, all things considered, you’re lucky I didn’t rip you apart.”

Percy goes quiet, and Nico knows he is considering the possibility, of all the ways this sort of thing could go so horrifically wrong, because that was Nico’s first try on a living being, and it certainly hadn’t always gone that well. Percy is probably thinking about how he felt after he got out of the river, and Nico supposes it was a good thing his skin had been so burnt, because he never realized several of his ribs were cracked.

“Hey, all’s well that ends well, right?”

“That was pretty intellectual for you, Shakespeare.” Percy almost smiles at this, so Nico pushes his luck. “But, yes, I like to think so. Though, you might want to try applying that to you and Annabeth.”

Percy stiffens, “I can’t. All I can think is how close I was, to holding too tightly and just, just crushing her.”

“Actually, it’s more likely for the water to flash boil under the increased pressure and-“ 

For once, Nico thinks to catch himself, but he might as well not have for the look Percy is giving him. It’s too unthinkable for him, apparently, because his face goes blank quickly. Nico wishes, not for the first time, that his imagination wasn’t so vivid. 

“How did you learn? To control it? Have you… tried it, since?”

Nico scoffs. “’Course I have. I’m not as good of a person as you. Though, not as often as I might’ve, considering it’s a fail-proof counter attack. It’s a little… a little personal, holding someone that way, as you might’ve noticed.” 

He doesn’t mention, now having been on the receiving end, how he finds it about a thousand times more violating, but he’s pretty sure Percy has already figured that out, because he’s not really as slow as everyone jokes, and he’s blushing profusely.

“You have to practice, Percy. I know it sounds fucked up, but you have to use it, to learn. You have to touch.”

“Is that what you did?” 

Another bitter laugh, “You’re kidding, right? Who would let me touch them? I used animals, mostly. Couple of unfortunate accidents…” he sees Percy grimace, and rolls his eyes, “Not suggesting that you should, of course. Not really your style, still too far down the psychopath road.”

“So, who then? I am not telling anyone else. And there is no way I’m asking Annabeth to let me practice freaking blood control or whatever the fuck on her…”

Percy looks like he actually might be sick, and Nico decides not to point out that if he had better control of this power he could actually stop that from happening.

“No, don’t be stupid. I said she loved you, not that she wasn’t terrified. No, too much risk there, you’re too emotional.”

“So, who, then?”

 

Nico stares at him flatly, “Well, me, obviously.”

 

Percy immediately starts sputtering, which would’ve probably been cute if it wasn’t so ridiculous.

“W-what? You, how can I possibly… you felt what just happened, how are you volunteering for this? What if you, fuck, boil or whatever, I couldn’t… I think I’m going to be ill…”

Nico brushes him off, “Don’t see what other option you have. You don’t want to tell anyone else, you can’t hurt Annabeth, but you need to figure this out or you’re never touching anyone again.”

 

“Who says I can hurt you?”

 

Nico gives him a withering look.

“I’m more durable than I look. In the beginning, it only works under high stress anyway, when you’re a little out of control, and since it’s already gone off on me once…”

Half-way through this thought, Nico realizes what he’s suggesting. Though, he supposes, it is more than a suggestion. Percy already lost control with him, when Nico was pulling away, and Percy wanted him to stay. Needed him to, apparently. He hadn’t thought about it until now, too busy trying to talk Percy off the ledge, but so far, the only people able to illicit this kind of response from Percy were Annabeth… and the only living son of Hades.

“Percy…” Nico asks very quietly, not trusting his voice, but now he needs to know. What exactly, he isn’t quite sure, but he needs it.

“Do… do I stress you out that much?”

Percy sighs deeply and yet Nico feels no decrease in tension.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Why?”

“I just… I scared you earlier, I made a mistake. I don’t know what I was thinking…”

Nico feels his heart preparing to break in ways he didn’t even know were still possible, but Percy catches his slip.

 

“No, not like that. Not a mistake. I just… I know you. Things haven’t exactly been perfect between us, but you’re my friend, and I know you. I know better than to just… touch you without asking, or at least, without being very careful. I just wasn’t thinking, and when you moved back, I just panicked, and I needed to make up for forgetting, I needed you to stay and let me try again, to do it right, and… well, you know what happened. I’m so sorry.”

Nico is silent for a full minute, processing what's just been said. 

“It’s um… okay. I was just, surprised, I guess. No one um, ever touches me, and it felt like it wasn’t real, and you were just scared and I could’ve been anyone-?“

Percy doesn’t let him get any farther. “It isn’t like that, Nico.”

Nico raises an eyebrow, “No? And does Annabeth have anything to say about this?”

Percy laughs, and Nico hears the real Percy in it, fighting to get through. 

“Really? Does Annabeth have anything to say about my confusing feelings towards Nico di Angelo while I'm losing control and grabbing people's bodily fluids with my psycho big three powers? No, I don’t think she does. Actually, she came to get you, and it isn’t like she doesn’t know, she pried it out of me and I didn’t leave anything out. She understands everything, you know? Even when I don’t. Especially when I don’t.”

 

There is such love in his eyes, in his voice, but for the first time in Nico’s life, it doesn’t make his heart ache. At least, not in an entirely unpleasant way.

 

Nico moves from sitting back on his heels to kneeling, eyes just below Percy’s. The motion brings him between the older boy’s knees, and Nico hesitates for a moment, hands clasped behind his neck. What he is about to do, it isn’t exactly his forte, but it is all too clear what Percy needs right now. He imagines Annabeth, coming to the same realization, and being unable to touch him, too logical to throw herself into danger like that. Nico knows at some point he’ll have to find away to get her to stop hating herself, but right now, well, his complete lack of self-preservation is his best attribute. 

 

That, and his unconditional, involuntary obsession with Percy Jackson.

 

He untwines his fingers, slowly lowering his hands, until they slide along the sides of Percy’s waist, just resting there. Nico frowns. He’s touched Percy before, usually when his friend is in the process of stopping Nico from falling on his face from exhaustion, and he swears the boy used to be a bit more substantial.

“Percy…”

“I know, I know. I just, for a while it seemed like maybe if I was weaker, physically weak, it wouldn’t happen…” and then, more of a breath than words, “Nico, what… what are you doing?”

“Shh. I’m concentrating.” He shuffles forward, closer, imperceptibly firming his grasp on the narrow waist between his palms. Percy’s face is very, very close to his now, looking down, and Nico stares at his eyelids and wonders what force it is that makes it impossible to not know when someone is looking at your mouth. 

“O-on what?”

“You. I’ve only had about a million hours to think about what I’m about to do, but with the exception of that misguided attempt earlier, I’ve never gotten the chance. I’d like to get it right.”

“You mean… that was… I was your first…?”

“Yeah. Now, in the interest of me not totally botching this, please shut up.”

And he tilts his chin up just enough to press his lips to Percy’s. 

 

For the second time this evening, Nico feels like his heart has stopped (though, he supposes, the first time it actually did). He doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything but apply gentle pressure with his mouth, because this could all go very, very wrong, but it might not, and he really wants it not to. His hands are shaking, there’s a distinct lump in his throat, but he doesn’t give in, because after a lifetime of seconds, Percy rasps against his mouth.

“Nico, please.”

Apparently, Percy can no longer wait for whatever he wanted, because Nico feels, for the second time, two rough hands framing his face. Now, they are gloriously accompanied by fingers threading through his hair, pulling his mouth upwards, tilting his head to make the perfect slant for their mouths to fit together, and now he’s kissing, and being kissed, and his hands are gripping Percy tighter, unable to hold back because yeah, he might die at any moment, might boil from the inside out, but what else is new, that’s all fine, because finally.

His fingers dig in, maybe to stop the shaking, maybe to hold on. He forgets that this all might be happening right now because Percy occasionally and involuntarily latches onto the 60% of your body that’s water and might not let go. He ignores that this, this is the very time that it is most likely to happen, because really, it’s only if he pulls away, and for the first time in his life, Nico has no urge to be anywhere else. He kisses Percy harder, taking control, and this isn’t exactly how he always imagined this going, but this is what needs to happen. Percy needs someone to touch him and not be afraid. Nico lets his lips part, sweeps his tongue gently into Percy’s mouth when he follows suit, and catches the tiniest of moans, and oh gods Percy actually just made that noise. Percy, who is pulling him closer, whose chest is now pressed against his, and the stone floor might be shifting under his knees. That’s okay though, because he’s pushing up and letting himself be pulled closer, until they’ve tipped back onto Percy’s bed and Nico is flush against him, on top of him, supporting himself as he feels Percy’s hands race down his back, pressing into his skin. Their teeth clack, which is fantastic because now Percy’s tongue is in his mouth and he tastes salty in a way that is a little like the ocean and a lot like warm, eager boy. It’s exactly right, and Nico shifts up to get more, and that moves his hips forward and gods of Olympus where are his hips because they cannot possibly be where he thinks they are.

It’s a good thing Percy pulls back, because Nico would prefer not to provoke his more unsettling powers right now but he’s still Nico and it’s still a lot of a new type of touching for him to process. He sighs in relief (and a little frustration) at the reprieve and tilts his forehead against Percy’s, both of them just breathing against each other, a little unwilling to disengage but too nervous to continue.

 

“Sorry, Percy, I just… I’m, you know, new at this…”

Percy laughs, right against his mouth, and Nico is pretty sure his lips just cracked because he cannot remember the last time he smiled like this.

“Don’t apologize, Nico, sheesh. You think I’m not?”

“Well, I mean, you and Annabeth…”

“Really, are we going to need to talk right now about how touching you is not even kind of like touching Annabeth?”

It’s hard for Annabeth’s name to cause him its usual pang when he’s lying on top of her boyfriend with his dignity very nearly in shreds. Nico actually hears himself laugh in a way that is not entirely unlike a giggle.

 

“I guess not. Still, I know it’s pretty, uh, lame I guess. To be 17 and not have any idea what you’re-“ 

Percy doesn’t let him finish, pulling his mouth back down to shut him up before he says whatever inane thing was going through his mind. Clearly, it wasn’t nearly as important as kissing, as letting Percy roll him sideways, guide him so they’re on the bed the right way, somehow managing to never disengage mouths. And this, this is how Nico imagined it, when he let himself, imagined the most wonderful thing that could never possibly happen to him. Imagined Percy gripping his waist, holding him in place, exactly where he wants him which is as close as possible, where all Nico can do is cling to the orange t shirt and know that he’s succeeded. Just right now, it’s his victory, because Percy isn’t thinking about how he’s becoming a monster from his nightmares and how he’s a danger to everyone he loves, he’s only thinking about kissing Nico as thoroughly and perfectly as possible. Nico can feel the part of him designated for happiness shudder to life, rusty from disuse, and yeah, it hurts, his heart is racing and sore and abused, but it’s moving.

It’s all worth it, because today, and maybe tomorrow, and hopefully the next day, Nico gets to fix what’s broken. He gets to save everyone. He gets to win.

Sometime later, Percy pulls away, breathing hard, and his face is so wrecked in the most wonderful way. Somehow he’s smiling at the same time.

 

“You are not lame, Nico di Angelo. You are astounding. And, if you say I need to practice, I need to practice. If you say I can do this, well, I believe you. I trust you.”

 

Nico grins, and it’s a smirk and indulgent and (Percy thinks) actually pretty sexy because he’s so in his element right now and that happens to be all wrapped around Percy in his bed.

 

“I say you can do this.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

            When Nico wakes up the next morning, the sun is barely up and Percy is not next to him anymore. He remembers briefly stirring at an earlier hour, opening his eyes to find Percy’s face just inches away, staring at him like he’s never seen Nico before. Then, Nico realizes he must’ve fallen back asleep. At just over 4 hours, it’s the most rest Nico can recall getting in months, and it was right next to possible sudden death. 

Par for the course, really. 

            Nico sits up, feeling stiff and a little slovenly for sleeping in his clothes. He attempts to smooth his hair and looks around the room for Percy, but its empty. He swings his feet off the bed and nearly slices his foot off with his own sword, which is sticking out of the floor like he’d stuck it there right through the stone slabs. Which he most definitely didn’t. He then realizes there’s spider web of cracks covering the floor, and the sword has tipped into one of them and is stuck there. He grips the hilt, looking thoughtfully at the cracks for a moment, before loosening the stones a bit to retrieve his sword. Fixing it to his belt, he moves gingerly, trying not to fall into any of the larger, ankle-sized holes, to open the front door.

            When he sees Percy, he forgets the floor. Forgets everything, really. Percy is sitting on the front step, arms folded across his knees with his head perched on them, just staring into the morning. It’s a hazy morning and no one is in sight. His face looks deceptively warm and tan in the early sunlight, but his eyes are red and surrounded with dark circles. It occurs to Nico that their roles are somewhat reversed, and Percy looks like he’s aged a decade overnight with the weight of whatever he’s thinking about.

            Roles certainly had been reversed last night, and Nico tries to call on the confidence he’d felt. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t come. Whatever made him take charge of the situation, pushed him into action, made him actually kiss Percy, all that remains is a blush he feels spreading over his whole face. He wants to touch the boy in front of him, just to remember that he can, that it was real, but instead he sits beside him at a safe distance, with his legs stretched in front of him and his back slightly hunched, and tries not to look at Percy.

“So…” and now Percy has turned his head on his arms and is looking at him, and Nico swears there was more to whatever he was going to say but it’s gone now because even when he looks terrible Percy is still so freaking beautiful that Nico almost smiles, which would probably be a pretty insensitive reaction considering Percy doesn’t look very happy. So he just stares back until Percy speaks.

“So?”

“Are you alright?” It isn’t what he was going to say, and maybe it should’ve been, but it feels stupid on his tongue.

Percy gives a dry, humorless laugh. “No? Yes? I don’t know, everything is a bit confusing at the moment.”

“You’re thinking about Annabeth,” Nico realizes, “About how you’ve kissed… someone else.”

Percy smirks a little when Nico says “someone else”, and it’s closer to the taunting look Nico is used to from him, but then he just sighs and nods.

“Do you feel guilty?”

“You know, I don’t? Maybe it’s because we’re all children of promiscuous, unfaithful gods, but I just feel normal. Which makes me feel distinctly not normal.”

“You said Annabeth knew about… this.”

“She does. She just asked me one day, if I liked you, and I didn’t even bother asking why she thought so, because Annabeth sees everything and what was the point of denying it? She seemed, erm… pretty okay with it at the time. It’s just different now, you know, that it’s happened?”

Nico nods. Yeah, pretty different. Percy continues,

“Plus, you know, I’ve never really kissed anyone but her before you.”

For some reason, Nico is surprised. He feels like he’s joined some special club. Percy adds,

“Well, besides Rachel. But that didn’t really count.”

“You kissed Rachel?!”

“Well, technically she kissed me. Very briefly. Once.”

“And Annabeth didn’t kill her?”

“Well, pretty soon after that, Rachel became the, uh, virgin Oracle of Delphi so, I guess Annabeth decided to let her off the hook." 

Nico chuckles, but stops abruptly.

“Well, where does that leave us?”

Percy stares back at him. “I don’t know. I kinda expected you to disappear during the night.”

Nico wants to get mad, to defend himself, but he can’t. It makes sense, it wouldn’t have been unlike him to run, to be unreliable in a crisis. The thing is, it hadn’t even occurred to him until Percy mentioned it.

“Fair, but I didn’t, so what do you want to do now?”

He feels Percy’s fingers, just barely tracing over the back of his hand. They don’t settle, just draw a little circle, like he’s checking whether or not Nico is real. Nico shivers, and yeah, he knows the feeling, and finally Percy settles his hand, holding on gently. He ignores Nico’s question, but after a long pause, says quietly, 

“No, Nico, it wasn’t fair.”

They sit like that until the sun breaks the tree line, and other campers start emerging from their cabins. Percy slowly pulls his hand away, and Nico feels a pang of rejection, which is bullshit because he was literally about to pull back himself. He clears his throat roughly.

“Well, in that case, get dressed. We’ve got places to be.” 

 

Nico strides into the clearing, Percy stumbling after him, looking awestruck.

“What is this place?”

“It’s just a meadow. Well suited for our purposes.”

“Where did it come from?”

“I found it a couple years ago on one of my trips through the forest. It’s out of the way, I’ve never seen anyone else come here so I think it’s safe.”

“Safe from what?”

Nico turns and Percy just about bumps into him, Nico throwing a hand up that lands on Percy’s chest.

“Safe from you.”

Percy’s face falters, and Nico half expects him to go sprinting back the way they came. He stands this ground, though, and Nico recognizes the game face Percy gets whenever he’s afraid but feels like he can’t show it. 

“Alright. Day one?”

“Day one.”

Nico looks around, and walks to pick a tall daisy from the grasses. He turns and holds it out to Percy. Percy looks confused. 

“What’s this for?”

“Practice.”

The confused look deepens, and it’s distractingly cute.

“This is a flower.”

“There’s water in everything, Percy. We’re going to have to work our way up to… humans. Best to start with a simpler system” 

Percy holds the flower at arms length, looking comically wary of its intentions.

“What do I do?”

Nico shrugs, “I’m not sure. Water is a lot more dynamic than earth. Blood is a lot more complex than bone. This makes it a more powerful medium, but also a lot harder to control. I think you should start by trying to recreate what normally happens, except with the flower. Push your limits. No one will get hurt, and we need to see how far you can take this.”

Percy sighs, staring at the flower.

“Alright. Sure.”

Nico sits on a stump and watches as Percy concentrates. At first nothing happens. The wind rustles the grasses. A few birds fly from the trees. Percy slumps, and growls,

“I can’t do it.”

Nico shoots him a stern look. "Try."

“I am trying. It’s just a flower.”

“Try harder. Unless you’d prefer a warm body.”

Percy glares at him, and goes back to concentrating.

For hours (or possibly forever), Nico waits in the meadow. Then, for no visible reason, he sees the flower begin to wilt. Water is beading down the stem, running in droplets over Percy’s hand. The petals droop, crack, and begin to fall. The water is just clinging in little beads to Percy’s skin, trembling slightly, and Nico can see Percy shaking with the effort. He’s about to say something, when the world goes quiet.

It’s like all the noise, the bustle of the forest, dims. Nico feels like he’s just sunk to the bottom of a swimming pool, and all sound is traveling through liquid, distorted in his ears. The world pauses for a second, he can almost see the colors become less saturated, and then everything rushes back in, and all the grass in a 20-foot ring around Percy stands on end and then explodes, drops of water shooting in every direction. Fifty yards away, the side of a dilapidated pine explodes, bark and pith flying everywhere, like a bullet blowing through the trunk. A dryad shrieks and runs off into the forest, and all the sound makes Nico’s ears ring. Percy yells and drops the dead flower, and everything stops. The only evidence is Percy standing in a circle of dead grass and soaked earth, and Nico dripping with plant blood.

Nico slowly stands, brushes bits of grass off his jacket and pants. He slowly approaches Percy, who is trembling, and takes his hand, gently unfurling the clenched fist and replacing the tension with his fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a rodent hole, but he doesn’t feel the lives of its inhabitants. He keeps Percy’s eyes focused on him.

“Not bad. Let’s, um, go sit over on that side of the meadow for a bit.” 

Percy allows himself to be lead away from the scene of the destruction. They sit, backs against a fallen tree, facing towards the woods. Percy shakes a bit as he sits down, clearly exhausted. Nico helps him, then collapses next to him, shoulder to shoulder. This is not the time to be afraid to touch him, and though Nico can feel his heart accelerate, he’s pretty sure it isn’t from fear.

The sun shines, the birds go back to singing, and Nico waits. Finally, Percy speaks,

“It’s… never worked on something I wasn’t touching before.”

Nico smiles grimly, “Yeah well, progress.”

“How is that progress?!”

“We need to learn your range. That was the first step.”

“You knew that would happen?”

“Not exactly. I thought it might be different if you actually tried to use the power, instead of it happening involuntarily. I didn’t know what the exact effect would be.”

“I blew up a tree.”

“Just the one, though.”

Percy shakes his head, “You’re insane.”

He knows what Percy is referring to. This agreement, Nico volunteering to be Percy’s test subject. Nico just smiles.

They fall silent for a minute. Finally, Nico asks,

“How’d you get it to work?”

Percy takes a long time to answer, just staring at his hands.

“I’m not sure… I was just thinking, about random stuff, and you I guess, and then I started remembering the war, and you storming away from me in the middle of battle, off to do whatever it was you were going to do. You were so mad at me and I just… needed you to turn around and come back. To not leave. To not… die, I guess.”

He looks up, holding Nico’s gaze.

“And everything kind of exploded.”

“What did it feel like?" 

“Kind of like… when I feel a stream cutting through rock, I can feel the water, and the lack of water around it. It was like that, but every plant, every bit of grass, that tree… When I move the ocean I am just calling it to me, and it listens. Well, all the plants listened. I think it would’ve kept going if I hadn’t panicked and lost focus...”

“Probably. Did you feel anything else?”

“I’m not sure. Once… once it started it was pretty quick.”

Nico decides not to push him, and changes tack. 

“Do you think you could try again?”

Percy looks like he’s about to answer when all the adrenaline leaves him and he slumps against the log.

“Gods… no, I feel like I could sleep for a week. I thought I felt fine, right after, but now…”

“I think that’s the power leaving you. You know, how you’re strongest in the water? That probably applies here, but now that it’s gone, well, you just used a lot of energy.”

Percy rolls his head sideways to look at Nico, “Did… did you, um, feel anything? I mean, are you okay?”

Nico nods, “Yes, I’m fine. I think you just got the plants. That tree was dying anyway, so maybe that explains why you hit that one. I could feel the change in the meadow, kind of like the whole place was underwater. It was uncomfortable, like pressure on your ears, but no, you didn’t hurt me.” 

“Okay. Good.”

Nico smiles a little, hearing the relief in Percy’s voice. Then he hears Percy whisper,

“You know, I’ve thought about that day, the war, you walking away, about a million times since it happened. Never blew up any fields. I think, because I’ve… er, touched you now, the memory was stronger. Easier to imagine grabbing you, making you stay, making you listen to me.” 

Nico looks at Percy, and his friend’s eyes are dark, intense, and not as tired as they looked this morning. Nico feels his face burning, but he protests.

“You’ve touched me before.”

Percy laughs, “Oh yeah, so much touching. You know, trying to keep you from getting clawed by monsters, or collapsing from exhaustion. Usually resulted in a quick shove in the other direction, if I remember correctly. You’ve never let me, before. Now… well, it didn’t make my feelings for you any less confusing.”

The concept of Percy having any kind of “feelings” for him drives Nico a little bit crazy. Just the concept that he’s been in Percy’s thoughts, or that Percy would admit to it so freely, makes his heart feel like it’s going to take off. That, and the look Percy is currently giving him…

“Is it weird? That I want to touch you?” Percy’s voice is so low that if Nico weren’t perpetually hanging on his every word he wouldn’t have caught it. He tries to remember how to talk. 

“A little, yeah.” Has his voice always sounded like that? So low? So… gravelly? Percy is leaning towards him now, and Nico regrets slouching so much against the log because Percy is a head above him, looking down.

 

“Would you let me, anyway?”

 

Nico bites his lip, because yes, a thousands times yes, he has never wanted anything more, and apparently he doesn’t need to say it out loud because Percy groans and rushes down, lips bruising his and hands firmly entwined in his hair. Nico panics a little, because he just watched this person blow up a field, but somehow that makes it a good panic, makes him want it more, and he can’t help but respond, eagerly, embarrassingly so, opening his mouth and tilting his head back to deepen the kiss.

Percy grips his hair, pulls him closer, and Nico forgets for a second that he has no idea what he’s doing, that he doesn’t even like human contact (yeah, right), that just a few hours ago he was too uncomfortable to touch this man. He catches Percy’s lip in his teeth and bites, instinctively, and then nearly freezes, because what the hell did he do that for, who bites someone who’s kissing them? Percy freezes too, just for a second, and Nico is pretty sure he’s stopped breathing. Percy stops kissing Nico, and Nico horrified, knowing he’s ruined it with this freakish bite impulse, except now Percy’s hands are tilting his head back, and Percy’s mouth is on his neck, and there’s teeth, and oh gods.

And when Percy freezes again, Nico realizes he just said that out loud.

Percy is just resting his mouth on Nico’s pulse now, breathing deeply, and Nico can only grip his shirt and try not to think about the strangled noise that just came out of his mouth.

“P-Perc-“ 

Percy just makes a dismissive noise in the back of his throat, hand wrapping around the back of Nico's head with his thumb running over his throat. Nico is acutely aware of how long Percy’s fingers are, and the burning points of each of them indenting his skin.

“Just… hold on a second.”

“O-Okay.”

Percy pulls back, just enough to make eye contact, and his brow is furrowed. Nico’s mortification speaks for him.

“Well that was horrifying.”

Percy’s frown deepens.

“What?”

Nico sputters, which is also horrifying.

“The… you know… the noise I… I didn’t mean to say-“ he devolves into vague hand waving, and Percy just starts laughing. 

“Nico… you are unbelievable. “ He plants a small kiss on Nico’s throat, and it should be chaste, but somehow it really, really isn’t. “I stopped… I had to stop because you just, you’re so… I wasn’t going to be able to stop, Nico, if I didn’t right then.”

Nico looks down at his hands, still furled in Percy’s t-shirt, and mumbles, “You, um, didn’t have to stop.”

Percy just shakes his head, “I think I did. Nico, you don’t have to, you know, power through it, just for me.” 

“Power through it?”

“Yeah.”

“I was not powering through kissing you.”

“You were panicking.”

“It was good panicking.”

Percy smiles, that blinding smile that makes Nico feel involuntarily warm all over.

“Well, I might’ve panicked. A little.”

For some reason, the idea of Percy panicking over him makes Nico really happy. Through it probably shouldn’t.

“Over… the thing?” It feels very dumb to be calling Percy’s power over all bodily fluids “the thing”, but Percy is still very close to him and it’s ruining Nico’s power of vocabulary.

“Yeah.” 

“Did you think you were going to lose control?”

“Yeah. I did.”

For some reason, the idea of Percy almost losing control over him makes Nico feel something a little different than happy, and Nico realizes that he must be completely insane. 

“Sorry. I, um, didn’t want to stop, you know. I really, really didn’t.”

Nico feels one of those strange rushes of confidence take over, like he’s someone else for just the second it takes to take Percy’s face in his hands and kiss him. Nico feels Percy’s whole body relax against him, and it’s very odd to think of himself as a relaxing presence. 

“I believe you. I didn’t want you to stop, either.”

The blinding smile is back.

 

By the time they get back to camp, they’ve missed dinner and the sun is down. Nico comments that Percy should probably check in at the farmhouse, to let someone know nothing’s happened to him, but Percy shrugs and admits he’s missed a lot of dinners recently and people have stopped checking in. Nico scowls. It isn’t until he pushes the Poseidon cabin door open that he remembers the floor. Percy stops short next to him in the doorway.

“Nico, why are there giant cracks in my floor?” 

Nico slowly removes his sword from his belt and props it against the wall. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“About that… I may have had something to do with it. Last night. I didn’t mean to.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t notice them until this morning. Then, I kind of forgot.” 

“You didn’t notice that you split open the floor.”

“Ah, no. Not at the time.”

Percy is looking down at him, and his expression makes Nico feel very warm in the night air. Nico can’t help noticing that he also looks a little pleased with himself. Nico feels Percy’s fingers lace through his, his skin blazing.

“Well then. We’re a real couple of freaks, aren’t we?”

Nico smiles, tracing one especially wide crack with his sneaker.

 

“Can’t argue with that.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

 

“NO, ANNABETH! NO!”

 

Nico jolts from his slumped position against the bunk across from Percy’s. Half-awake, he stumbles across the room to where Percy is thrashing in his bed, still screaming. Nico grasps his shoulders, trying to subdue him.

“Percy! Wake up!”

His voice is surprisingly forceful, and Percy’s eyes fly open, one fist swinging towards Nico’s face. Nico grabs his wrist just in time.

“N-Nico…? What-“

“Percy, you were dreaming. It was just a…” Nico hesitates, because he knows what Percy was dreaming about, and it wasn’t “just a” anything.

“I was in… we were at the doors. Annabeth was… she was… oh gods.”

“I know, Percy. I know.” 

And Nico hugs him. It’s weird, considering that this boys’ tongue has been in his mouth, that hugging feels just as intimate. Nico just holds on as tight as he can, and slowly, Percy’s breathing calms, and Nico feels hands on his waist, surprisingly cold on his normally chilly skin. He pulls back enough to look Percy in the eyes, fingers easily threading through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and gently swipes away the moisture under his eyes. Percy won’t look up. 

“Hey. Stop that. I’ve woken up doing worse than crying.”

When Percy looks up, Nico fears he’s said the wrong thing, because Percy’s eyes are boring into his like drills and the horrified expression is only deepening. Then, Percy lets out a long exhale and leans his forehead against Nico’s.

“Percy, you should try to go back to sleep.”

Percy nods, and whispers, “Can you stay?”

“I never left.”

“No, I mean… stay stay.”

“Alright.”

Percy lies back down, arms folded across his chest. He looks nervous, and Nico actually feels himself smile.

“Hey, none of that.” He slowly pries Percy’s arms open so he can slide between them, and Percy hides his face in his chest.

They’ve avoided this so far out of concern that one of Percy’s dreams would trigger an episode, but Nico isn’t about to mention that now. Not like he’d ever be able to bring himself to refuse, anyway. Death seems a small price to pay.

He keeps one hand against Percy’s neck, just feeling his heart beat slow until he’s calmed down enough to fall back asleep. Nico feels his heart match the rhythm, tied in to how Percy is feeling, when he’s afraid and when he’s calm. It should be concerning, how intricately he’s allowed his own well-being to become entwined to this man, but instead, Nico just feels warm all over, inexplicably happy.

Or, that could just be him finally drifting off to sleep.

 

 

“Today, I want to try something different.”

They’ve been making regular trips to the meadow for over a week. Percy, as usual, proves a quick study, mastering wilting flowers without blowing anything up. Still, Nico can’t help but feel they’re going about this the wrong way.

Percy is sitting on the stump, messing with his Camp necklace, and Nico is trying not to get distracted by the column of his throat under the beads.

“Okay. What next, sensei Nico?”

Nico glowers at him.

“I don’t think, ultimately, manipulation of bodily fluids is going to be on the top of your list of things to do. You still need to know how, but I think for you, this’ll be  more about listening, detecting. So, I want to do that.”

“Okay,” Percy says cheerfully, dropping his beads, “What am I detecting?” 

He’s been in such a good mood since he started succeeding with flowers and small trees that Nico really doesn’t want to kill his mood with his next words.

“My heart beat.”

Percy’s light-hearted smile drops immediately.

“What?!”

“I want you to feel my heart beat. Without touching me.”

Percy stares at him for a long minute.

“I’d rather touch you…” he murmurs. Nico’s glower deepens.

“I am not so easily distracted.”

Percy manages to smirk, “Liar.”

Nico continues as though he hadn’t spoken, “This is the best way for you to build control without actually manipulating anything. “

“Yeah but, how will I… you know, not grab hold of you while I’m trying to… feel your heart beat or whatever?”

Nico laughs dryly, “That would be more your field, than mine.” 

It’s Percy’s turn to glare.

“Oh, thanks for the help. Well, why don’t you sit here, I guess?”

Nico takes Percy’s place on the stump. Percy stands for a moment in front of him, hesitating, then kneels between his knees. Nico clears his throat. 

“Why don’t you, um, start with your hand on my pulse, and progress from there.”

Percy nods. Nico extends his wrist for a pulse-point, but Percy ignores it, placing his hands solidly against the sides of Nico’s neck. This brings their faces much too close for Nico to remember what he’s doing there in the first place.

He tries to breathe evenly, not wanting to freak Percy out by showing how nervous he is. It’s a stupid impulse, he realizes, considering Percy has his hand on his pulse and should be able to feel how he’s feeling without bothering to count breaths.

“Jeeze Nico, you’d think you had a helicopter stashed in here somewhere.”

Percy is smirking at him, looking very pleased with himself, and Nico feels his face burst into flames.

“Just focus, would you? Find the beat, then try to pull your hands away and keep track of it.”

Percy closes his eyes, brow furrowed in concentration.

Nico is prepared to wait, as he seems to spend most of their meadow time doing, trying to hold very still and not distract Percy from whatever goes on in his head when he’s trying to harness his all-fluidly powers. When Nico raises bones, it doesn’t take this much focus. The bones are just there, below the surface, and he can feel them the same way Hazel can feel caves or Leo can feel machines. They just happen to have once been part of human bodies. When he feels bones in a living thing, the structure is pretty much the same as it is in the ground. It doesn’t feel as dangerous as when Percy tries to control someone’s body using the water in their veins and cells.  And he’s a got a much better handle on his ADHD than Percy does, so it always seems best to be as unobtrusive as possible.

This time, though, it turns out not to be necessary.

Percy is so close, Nico feels his lips moving to count before he hears the words. Just the faint movement of air against his cheek, whispering the numbers to the beat of his pulse. Nico catches himself holding his breath, and tries to exhale without Percy realizing it too. Slowly, Percy begins to withdraw his hands. He keeps them framing Nico’s neck, cupped like he’s holding on, but he’s got about a half a foot of clearance now, and he’s still counting.

“I… can feel… one, two, three, four…” Percy finally whispers, more to himself than to Nico, “I can feel the blood flowing. In waves… one, two, three, four, like a current offshore. I can follow it, down your throat, through your chest, through the chambers of your heart, and out again, one, two, three, four… It’s loud in my ears, like being underwater, and so calming at the same… one, two, three, four…” 

Nico is so entranced by Percy’s description that he doesn’t notice the increase in pressure until he starts to choke. Percy’s counting is getting faster, because Nico’s heart is speeding up, panicking, and Nico tries desperately to remain calm as he rasps out, 

“Percy… Percy, let go.”

Percy’s brow furrows through the counting, not registering more than the mild interruption of a noise that isn’t the heart beat in his hands.

“Percy. Percy, s-sto… stop…”

Nico’s blood is still pulsing, but it feels like mud, and his whole body feels heavy and sluggish. His lungs can’t inhale against the weight, but he uses the last of his air to force out one word, loud and clear.

“STOP!”

And Percy jerks away from him like he’s been stung.

Nico heaves a breath, doubling over, hands on his knees. The pain isn’t like the first time, and mostly he just feels light headed from clearly not getting enough oxygen to his brain. The sense of suffocation isn’t there, but the sunlight seems too bright and his heart is racing, almost like it’s enjoying the freedom of movement. For a brief moment, Nico feels almost high, too elated for the reality of what’s happening.

Then, he looks at Percy and the feeling vanishes, because his friend is curled in on himself, head to his knees, and clearly sobbing even though he isn’t making a sound. Nico can hear his breath racing, to the point of hyperventilating. He’s having a panic attack.

“Percy…” Nico curses how hoarse his voice sounds, and tries to clear his throat again, to sound more soothing. “Percy. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

Percy just shakes his head and refuses to look up. Nico comes down off the stump, ignoring the stiffness in his limbs, and grasps Percy’s arms. He tries to suppress the wounded feeling that rises when Percy tries to jerk out of his grasp, and persists, gripping Percy’s arms tightly, providing a stable point of balance. He speaks calmly in his ear. 

“Everything’s still moving. My heart never stopped beating. You know that. You could feel it.”

Still nothing, though his shoulders have stopped shaking and he’s no longer trying to pull away.

“You just held on a little too tightly. Not a crisis. You stopped when I asked you to.”

Percy finally looks up, and his face is ashen. His chest is rising and falling more evenly now, but his eyes are wide and terrified. 

“I didn’t want to.” 

Nico just waits, listening, still touching Percy because he needs to prove he isn’t afraid.

“I didn’t want to stop. I could feel every inch of you, all the tiny movements that keep you alive. It was like lying in the ocean. I didn’t want to let go of that feeling. I’ve never been so close to someone. I wanted to crawl inside you and stay there forever, just listening to you living. How could I feel so calm, so at home, and be killing you at the same time?”

Nico sighs, tilting Percy’s head up to look in his eyes.

“It won’t always be like that. We’ll figure it out. There’s a balance. You just have to find it.”

“I could’ve killed you. How can you let me keep trying?”

Nico sighs, and kisses Percy's quavering lips very softly.

“Because it felt the same for me.”

  

Nico insists that they make it back to camp before sundown. Percy needs to make at least one appearance at dinner that week. Plus, Percy has closed himself off completely after the incident that morning, and Nico is actually looking forward to the reprieve of dinner, even if it’s just to sit by himself and think for a minute without Percy clouding all his better judgment. 

He actually just feels really guilty. He shouldn’t have pushed Percy to try so hard, to move so quickly. He just wanted to see what would happen, if Percy could find a use for this power that didn’t make him feel like a monster. And maybe, just a little bit, he wanted to feel what it was like again… Nico shakes his head, trying to clear those thoughts as he flags down a nymph to grab an apple and some cheese.  Thinking about that, that he might’ve pushed Percy too hard on purpose, makes only makes him feel like a freak in addition to all the guilt.

Sitting alone at the Hades table, Nico pulls out his pocketknife and cuts a slice of his apple. Even with Percy several tables away, he’s too distracted to notice standing right in front of him. He’s popped a bite into his mouth before he even realizes-

“Hey there.” 

Nico’s head snaps up to see a guy with sandy blonde hair smiling down at him, hands in his pockets. He looks vaguely familiar, and Nico realizes he’s seen him around the Aphrodite table, on some of his previous trips through camp. Which is odd, because the last time he was here he swears the Aphrodite kids except Piper were still looking at him like he’d ridden into Camp on a rousing chorus of “Love Stinks”. He swallows nervously.

“Hello. Can I help you?”

The guy sits down. He extends his hand.

“Don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Eric.”

Nico hesitates for a moment before shaking Eric’s hand. 

“I’m Nico di-“ 

Eric’s grin broadens, “Oh, I know who you are.”

Nico’s eyes dart up to the head table, but Chiron and Mr. D look too absorbed in whatever they’re arguing about to notice the breach of protocol. The strict seating assignment has been relaxed a bit since the war, as an effort to encourage more inter-house cooperation. Normally, Nico wouldn’t care, because who would want to sit by him anyway, but right now he wishes someone would start enforcing the rules again.

“Alright then.  Was there something you needed?”

“You don’t normally stick around Camp this long. To what do we all owe the favor?”

The words are mocking, but something about the way this guy says them, Nico feels like he isn’t being made fun of. Eric leans towards him, and Nico instinctively leans away, laughing wryly.

“Oh, just enjoying the general splendor.”

He means it to be dismissive, but Eric just laughs like they’ve enjoyed a private joke, and that’s when Nico feels eyes like lasers boring into the back of his neck.

“Well, Nico di Angelo, we’re having a bit of a get together in cabin number 10 this evening. Post-curfew, of course. You should stop by, catch a bit more of the splendor.” 

Nico hears a heavy wooden bench behind him abruptly scrape across the stone floor, and even through the din of peak dinner hour, feels heavy footsteps walk away from the pavilion and across the lawn. Almost immediately the ground rumbles and he can smell a cold sea breeze off the water.

“Um, yeah, maybe. I have to go.” 

Eric doesn’t look too put out by his brash departure, but Nico doesn’t dwell on it as he rushes over to collect the remains of Percy’s dinner from the Poseidon table. He scrapes the untouched food into the fire pit, and mumbles an unusual prayer.

“Right, um, sir, accept this offering. And, well, don’t be too upset with Percy… He’s having a bit of a day.”

And after scraping his apple core into the flames with out so much as a word to his father (because if you don’t have anything nice to say…), Nico storms off into the dusk.

  

He has to wait until it’s fully dark to slip over to Cabin #3. There are still a few campers wandering around after dinner, and Nico doesn’t want to try his luck shadow-traveling right on top of Percy when he isn’t expecting it. So, he waits in the green light of the Hades cabin. He built it himself, and now it looks a little juvenile compared to some of his more recent rock carving efforts. Still, he thinks as he lays his sword on top of the seldom-used bed, he’s a little proud of it. Plus, being inside means there’s absolutely zero chance of ever being disturbed.

He waits for the first round of patrol Harpies to pass before slipping silently out the door and dashing across the lawn. He makes it to the stoop of number 3, quickly knocks for warning more than permission, and slips inside before he is noticed.

Just as Nico turns around, Percy walks out of the bathroom. He’s clearly just gotten out of the shower, and Nico tries not to stare as Percy finishes buttoning his jeans, acknowledging dimly that he’s never actually seen him get wet before…

… and then immediately tries to think of anything else besides the way water looks dripping from Percy’s hair over his bare chest.

“Nico. What’re you doing here?”

Nico can hear an edge in Percy’s voice that is both confusing and completely unsurprising at the same time. He also feels like he must be being asked to answer for something other than the question at hand, because it's a very stupid quesiton. 

“What do you mean, what am I doing here? I’ve been here every night for a week.” 

“Yeah, it seemed like you might’ve made other plans for this evening.” 

Percy is advancing on him in a way that is all too familiar, and between that and the ridiculousness of the suggestion it takes Nico a full minute to come up with a response.

“What are you talking about- hold on, you mean with that guy at dinner…  Are you… wait, are you jealous?”

It’s an idea too preposterous to be borne, but the way Percy’s jaw twitches confirms the suspicion.

Percy doesn’t respond, and Nico doesn’t realize how he’s been caged in until his next step backwards brings his back against the wall.

“You cannot be serious.”

Percy’s face flushes just enough to be seen in the dim light, and Nico feels a sudden flash of anger.

“You stormed off because I was talking to someone else? I didn’t even really say anything! He just showed up!” 

“Didn’t look like that to me,” Percy whispers, and Nico feels the breath on his cheek. It doesn’t take the edge off his fury.

“You don’t get to be jealous. Lest you forget, you have a fucking girlfriend.” 

Percy seethes, “She left me.” He looks like he wants to throw a punch.

Nico scoffs, forgetting to watch his words, forgetting to be careful, “Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Percy’s hand slams into the wall next to Nico’s head.

“Damn it, Nico, YOU help me sleep at night.”

And there is just enough time for Nico’s anger to melt before Percy kisses him. He feels Percy’s hands bury in his shirt, holding on, and the mouth against his is desperate and impatient. Nico can barely kiss back before Percy pulls away, staring down at him.

“Percy… There is no one else.”

Everything about Percy’s face screams disbelief, so Nico pulls Percy’s mouth back to his, hard, because it is the only way he can prove it, that there is no one else, never has been anyone else, in the world for him. As screwed up as that is, Nico pours the whole truth into the kiss. Everything he has never been able to say he keeps on the tip of his tongue that is now seeking Percy's. He opens his mouth and feels Percy’s groan. He goes to pull on the familiar orange t-shirt, except… there is no shirt.

Nico’s never been this close to someone else’s skin before. Percy’s shoulders are tense, knotted, and still damp from the shower, and all Nico can do is grip tighter. Percy’s skin is so unlike his own, so warm, and Percy is pressing him against the wall with his body. Nico can feel every line of muscle, every jut of bone, and when Percy pushes forward he can feel the friction of their hips coming into perfect alignment. There are rough hands on his waist, gripping the hem of his sweatshirt, and suddenly Nico is raising his arms above his head and letting Percy pull it off, t-shirt clinging along the way, and everything else they’ve ever done might have well have been chaste hand-holding compared to how it feels to be shirtless with Percy towering over him.

Nico goes to cross his arms across his chest, but Percy grabs his wrists and pins him to the wall. Nico blushes, all the way down his neck, and possibly makes some horrible mewling sound in the back of his throat. He feels very self-conscious and very scrawny in front of the very tan, very muscular guy he’s been dreaming about for years. For a long moment, Percy just stares at him, openly, not even blinking, doing nothing to ease his discomfort.  Nico looks anywhere else but at the face that is leaning towards his, whispering,

“Nico. You… you’re so… fuck. I need you, don’t you get it? I need you.” 

Nico wants to ask why, or to reassure him, or just to sound as sexy and confident as it seems like he should be right now, but Percy kisses him again before he can even begin to think of what to say. He settles for threading his fingers through Percy’s hair and holding on while large, calloused hands run down his torso and pull him closer. Nico is unbearably warm, warmer than he’s ever been in his life, and there really is nothing else but Percy’s mouth running over his jaw to the crook of his neck, hands gripping tight enough to bruise, his fingers trailing just under the waistband of his jeans…

Nico gasps, flinging his head back and barely feeling the impact of the wall behind him. Percy groans and aims for his exposed neck, biting over his throat, hard enough to leave marks on his pale skin, and when their hips collide again Nico can feel a new line of Percy’s body. His mind reels with the knowledge, that he did that, that Percy feels that way because of him, and the film reel in his mind gets hotter and dirtier and the feeling is almost like panicking except his whole body is flooded with want. Percy slows a moment, as if he’s suddenly become conscious of the ways their bodies are pressed together, like he can see into Nico’s thoughts of where this might go. Nico feels Percy’s shoulders tremble under his hands, and then there is the gentle contrast of fingers running over his stomach, slowly tracing the tops of his hipbones, and finding the top button of his jeans to undo it.

And he flinches.

It’s a reflex. A habit, really. Just a tiny twitch away from the burning fingers just starting to peel the denim away from his skin. It isn’t that he’s afraid, Nico tells himself, holding his breath. He can’t be afraid, because he wishes for all the world that he hadn’t just done that, because he wants this, gods, he didn’t even realize how much it was possible to want something until Percy touching him like that got put on the table, but it’s too late, he pulled away, it happened, and Nico actually counts down as his heart thuds from four… three… two… one…

And he’s suffocating again.

He manages to make eye contact right before it happens, and Percy is staring at him in abject panic and horror. Nico knows, with the last bit of blood to his brain, that Percy is too afraid, too terrified of loss to let go. It’s a stronger hold than before, somehow, and Nico was already holding his breath when it happened so his lungs are already screaming. Nico doesn’t know how to be needed, didn’t realize it was even possible for Percy to be this afraid of losing him until right now when he’s about to die for it. Somehow, he never believed in Percy’s feelings for him before this moment, but now they’re plain as day, all over him, and it’s the last thing he’s ever going to feel, because everything about Percy’s face says he cannot stop. And, ironically, for the first time in his life, Nico isn’t ready to die.

But the powers of a child of Hades are not made of water. They don’t run through his veins. They are a part of him, deeper than blood or flesh. So without being able to move, without thinking of anything except the sudden and undeniable desire to continue living and being the one thing Percy needs and just maybe being able to touch him for real, Nico latches on to all the bone and rock and ash he can feel and with all his might just shoves.

Percy flies backward 10 feet and slams against the opposite wall with a loud crack, taking a couple of stone tiles with him. The connection breaks, and Nico collapses to the broken floor. 

When the dust settles, and Nico feels done coughing and willing down the throbbing headache of oxygen depravation, he looks up. Percy is slumped against the far wall, with flakes of shale in his hair and stuck to his skin. There’s a handful of visible scrapes on his chest and one cut on his jaw that’s persistently bleeding, and he’s got one arm wrapped around his chest, holding a rib or two Nico knows are broken.

And he’s staring right back at Nico, and he’s smiling. It’s a crazy, maniacal smile that tugs on Nico’s thrashing heart and makes the filmstrip start up again for some reason which is really highly inappropriate at this juncture.

And maybe it’s just the adrenaline refusing to die, but Nico finds himself grinning back.

“Well. That changes everything, now doesn’t it?” 

 

Chapter Text

 

For someone who has defeated armies of demons on more than one occasion, it is surprisingly difficult for Nico to get across the room to Percy. He staggers to his feet, tripping the distance across before collapsing to the floor and grabbing Percy by the shoulders.

“Shit. Okay, let me help you… um, Percy? Are you alright?”

Percy is just staring at him, with a small grin and a completely astounded look on his face. 

“What… what did you just do?” 

Nico focuses on wiping the blood from Percy’s forehead with his arm, trying to keep it out of his eyes. The flow is slowing. He brushes the flakes of stone off his shoulders and dodges eye contact, nervously surveying the damage. There is an infinite spider web of cracks in the floor, stemming from where Nico had been standing. He avoids looking at them, or the body-shaped hole in the wall behind them, and tries to remember the question.

“Broke a few of your ribs, seems like.”

“What? No, not that, but… you fought back. You stopped me.”

Nico frowns, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Are you kidding? That… you were amazing. If you can fight it off, that means everything could be-“

“Hey, slow down,” Nico warns, wrapping Percy’s arm around his shoulder and hoisting him up, “I’ve never done that before. I didn’t even know it was possible, and I have no idea how to do it again.” 

“Maybe you should practice.”

Nico just glares and starts towards the bed.

He has even more trouble helping Percy to his bunk. It is a bit of the blind leading the blind: Nico feels like he’s been run over by a tractor-trailer that backed up and then ran him over again, and Percy looks like he’s been the victim of a landside (which isn’t completely untrue). Nico tries to swallow his guilt when he hefts the boy up and hears his gasp of pain as he wraps his arm around his ribs. Still, eventually Nico gets him across the room to his bed, where Percy is being obnoxiously difficult.

“I should be taking care of you.”

Nico smirks sadly, placing his hand against Percy’s sternum and pushing him gently back to lying down. 

“I disagree. I’m just sore, but I kind of broke you.”

Percy turns Nico’s forearm that he’s grasping in his hand to reveal the beginnings of bruising under the pale skin. Nico quickly flips his arm back, and tries not to think about how Percy knew to look for that. Percy scoffs and lets his head fall back to the pillow.

“I think I may have deserved a few broken ribs.”

Nico chuckles, “You have no idea. You’ll have plenty of bruises yourself. Still, let me see what I can do.”

He places his hands against Percy’s bare sides, feeling the mix of hot skin and a thin layer of stone dust. Percy flinches at the touch, which is really comical.

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing. Hold still." 

Truthfully, Nico is exhausted. He can’t remember ever feeling this tired, and the full-body ache isn’t helping, but unless he and Percy are ready for some awkward explaining to the Apollo cabin, he has to take charge of damage control. He tries to focus, ignoring the throb in his temples as he warns, 

“This will hurt.”

Percy chokes in pain as soon as Nico lets the energy surge through his palms. He shakes violently, but follows Nico’s instructions to the letter and doesn’t try to twist out of his grasp. Instead, he digs his fingers into Nico’s forearms and holds on. Nico closes his eyes, feels rib by rib. Three broken, two cracked. He’s certainly seen worse. He wills the fibers back together, forces weeks of bone growth to occur in seconds. When he’s confident that they’re all at least reattached, he relaxes, but doesn’t remove his hands. Percy coughs as he is released, and his voice is raspy.

“Holy Hera. Did you just…?” 

“Yes. I’m sorry, but it didn’t seem like you’d want the complication of a healer.”

Percy shakes his head, “No, no, thank you. You’re right. Just, I didn’t know you could do that.”

“We can do more than destroy, Percy,” Nico smiles, “How did it feel?”

“Like there was suddenly a cage of hot iron where my ribs used to be. But other than that, it was just fantastic.”

Nico laughs, which hurts. Percy visibly deflates.

“I wish I could help… I wish I could fix things, too.”

Sighing, Nico holds his fingers to Percy’s lips, but Percy just takes his hand and pulls him down. Nico lets himself fall next to Percy on the bed, and closes his eyes to feel Percy’s fingers trace slowly over his arm, up over his collarbone and down to over his heart. He realizes that he’s following the surface veins.

“Nico… I’m so sor-“

Nico just squeezes his eyes shut tighter.

“Don’t. Do not apologize.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” Nico whispers, still unwilling to open his eyes, “… right up until everything went to shit, that was… kind of the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t want you to go and ruin it with apologies.”

They are silent for a long time, and Nico hopes Percy is also reliving the moment. Finally, he hears a low chuckle.

“I can’t believe I was jealous. It seems really stupid now.”

Nico smirks, opening his eyes to find Percy’s face an inch away.

“Don’t worry, it was pretty stupid at the time, too.”

Percy groans, hiding his face in Nico’s neck, and after a few seconds, Nico feels lips press against his pulse. 

“You know,” Percy whispers, “When this happened with Annabeth, I couldn’t let it go. I just held on to feeling miserable and guilty, tighter and tighter, driving her away. Now, I just want to get closer to you.”

He shifts nearer with the words, and Nico’s breath hitches.

“Because you just… like, just then, you’re so… unstoppable. It’s like, you’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known and just, untouchable. What could I ever do? Everything about you screams invincible, and I was only messing around in your world. Even after I swam in the Styx, we still needed… I still needed you. What am I compared to that?” 

Nico doesn’t know what to say. Percy is clearly wrong – Nico is not, will never be the person he thinks he is. Percy is the strongest, the best. He’s what a real hero should be. Nico is a shadow in his background. But Percy says it with such conviction blazing in his words, and backs up every sentence by pressing a little closer. Finally, Nico grasps Percy’s face gently and pulls back to stare at him, because that’s what he is, that’s all he’s ever known how to be. The kid staring at Percy Jackson.

“You… You are everything.”

Instead of waiting for a response, he tilts his jaw up to kiss Percy, and feels the sigh wash over his lips. He locks his fingers in soft black hair, and pulls everything closer. A thumb dragging along his jaw coaxes Nico’s mouth to open, and he’s just reeling with the sensation of Percy’s tongue sweeping along his lip before suddenly it’s all missing. 

“Nico...”

“Don’t. Don’t stop.”

“Nico, you don’t have to-“

“I’m not. I want you. You have no idea how long. Please.”

He feels Percy’s body give in even as he hears the words.

“It isn’t safe.” 

Nico groans low in his throat, lips vibrating against Percy’s mouth, and firmly tugs at Percy’s lower lip with his teeth.

“Fuck safe.”

Percy’s breath hitches and he seals his mouth back to Nico’s. Nico feels his body melt against Percy’s, finally relaxing into the touch, and he lets Percy pull him closer, lets the skin of their bare chests touch and catches Percy’s gasp on his tongue. Percy pulls his mouth free, but not away, and Nico feels his hands running down his shoulders to his waist. He speaks in the space between their lips touching, and of course it is just like Percy to not be able to shut up, but Nico feels his heart accelerate with every word.

“Gods, Nico… you’re so warm. I never thought… I need… just, more.”

Percy wraps one hand around the back of Nico’s knee, and tugs gently, unsure, but Nico has never been so certain. He lets his leg follow until it is hitched around to Percy’s waist. Pushing forward, Nico rolls Percy onto his back to lean over him, straddling his hips.

“You can have more. You can have anything.”

Nico relishes the shocked look on Percy’s face, contrasting the way his pupils are dilated, almost eclipsing the green of his irises. Percy’s hands find purchase on Nico’s hips as he leans down to kiss him again, holding firmly like he’s worried Nico will pull away again. Nico privately thinks that if he’d known that this was an option he’d have relaxed his stance on touching a long time ago.

When he feels Percy hardening between his legs Nico doesn’t try to stop the quiet moan from escaping. He’s never understood why this concept was so appealing to him. Even after he accepted his less-than-linear sexual leanings, it was hard to imagine why someone getting hard for you would be so brilliant, but it is. Nico grinds his hips down instinctively like he’s done this before, which he hasn’t, and Percy isn’t so reserved in his reaction to the increased pressure as he flat out cries into Nico’s mouth.

Nico loses his grip on reality and just like that, they are moving against each other. He feels incredibly juvenile at how turned on he is from something so relatively tame, and yet it also seems he and Percy were made to fit together like this. Percy’s breath is washing over his ear in pants, and Nico keeps one hand locked on Percy’s hair as the other grips the frame of the bed. The amazing and terrifying feeling in his core is spiraling outwards to the tips of his fingers, and he wants more, just wants, and this really isn’t the time for stalling and being shy but he cannot seem to make his hands move from their locked positions thoroughly above Percy’s waist and why does it have to be so difficult to just touch –

But the internal monologue running under the blinding light in Nico’s head that comes from his pelvis against Percy’s screeches to a halt because Percy’s hands are moving off his waist and pulling down the zipper on his already unbuttoned jeans. Nico is frozen as he feels Percy’s fingers run over his stomach, under his boxers, pushing fabric out of the way to expose him. Strong, hot fingers wrap around his cock and squeeze. Nico hears the most strangled, agonized sound come from his throat as he thrusts into the feeling with his whole body, and comes almost immediately.

It seems impossible that he actually blacked out, but there is definitely a small period after where Nico doesn’t remember anything. He becomes aware of his body collapsed on Percy’s, with Percy still touching him, in a more curious way than anything, like he’s exploring. He’s still pretty hard and it feels amazing and is driving him insane at the same time. When he twitches Percy drops his hand quickly.

“Oh, I, um… Sorry.”

Nico cannot look up. He barely lifts his head out of the crook of Percy’s neck and realizes his eyes are wet. He slowly unclenches his fist from the bedframe where his fingers were trying to become one with the metal, not noticing the indentation of his hand left behind. He tries to wipe his face discreetly before reaching down to rearrange his boxers so everything is… covered. He feels the dampness and his whole body seizes with mortification.

“No, I’m sorry. I…” but he cannot think of what to say, and for the first time since he came back to camp, Nico wants to run. Apparently the will was strong enough that shadows are starting to pull at him because Percy jolts underneath him and wraps his arms around his waist like he’s holding him there, trying to keep him from disappearing. Nico feels the wetness of the hands on his skin.

Percy pleads, “No, Nico… please, don’t go. Stay. Please.”

He sounds so desperate that the shadows dissipate and Nico relaxes a little, trying to better secure himself to the world. Percy raises his hands, surreptitiously wiping them on the bedspread, and pulls Nico’s face gently to look at him.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, just don’t leave. I don’t understand… what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Nico feels the sudden lump in his throat and knows if he opens his mouth he’ll start crying and it’s too humiliating to think about. He can’t make eye contact, but Percy is persistent,

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I rushed you, I thought it was okay. I couldn’t help it, I just wanted to… I’m sorry.”

“N-no, don’t,” Nico manages to stutter, his voice shaking but his eyes reasonably dry, “It was okay. It was more than okay. I just… fuck, this is embarrassing, I’m so pathetic I didn’t even get to… I mean, you didn’t…”

He resorts to vague hand gestures when words fail him. Percy looks extremely confused for another half second before the spark of recognition lights.

“You are not pathetic, what are you… oh. Oh. You think… because you didn’t touch… that I didn’t…. Hah. Okay.”

Percy sits up, taking Nico with him, so Nico is forced to look down into his face, which is smiling. Nico feels their stomachs touch and it’s messy and somehow that is pretty brilliant too.

“Believe me, Nico, this is way more embarrassing for me. I kind of couldn’t stop myself from, um... you know.”

He makes the same vague gesture and Nico’s eyes go pie-plate wide.

“Oh.”

Percy grins, “Oh, indeed. Now, if I go get a washcloth and um, change, will you still be here when I get back?”

Nico nods, chagrinned, and Percy laughs and unceremoniously dumps him sideways onto the bed before making for the bathroom. Nico just stares at the stone ceiling while Percy rummages around for towels (and pants, presumably), but when Percy reemerges he makes an effort to look a little less like he’s losing his mind.

Then he sees that Percy has elected for just boxers and the ceiling seems like the best place to look again. He goes to grab the cloth from Percy’s hand but misses as it is instantly snatched back.

“No, let me make myself useful, please.”

Nico grumbles as he is pushed back to the bed, “You’ve been plenty useful,” and then blushes all the way up to his hairline and goes back to studiously avoiding eye contact. Percy just smirks and looks very pleased with himself as he makes quick work of cleaning up the evidence. Nico feels his embarrassment waver a bit as Percy’s hands trace over his stomach, and when Percy traces a thumb over his hipbone a laugh escapes Nico’s mouth before he can stop it. The grin that spreads over Percy’s face is like staring at the sun.

“Oh, no way!”

Percy tosses the cloth aside and begins to crawl over Nico, looking more predatory than his cheerful face should be capable of. 

Nico scoots back away from him, “No.” 

“You totally are!”

“I am not! You know… whatever you’re talking about.”

“Liar, liar.”

“Jackson, I swear to Zeus don’t you dare-“

But Percy is on him, hands fluttering up and down his sides and Nico freaking squeals which would be horrifying if he wasn’t so distracted trying to get out from under Percy’s demonic hands.

“Admit it!” 

“N-never. Get off!” but Nico is too breathless laughing to be particularly convincing, and sensing victory, Percy ramps up the torture.

“Say it!”

Nico folds, “Alright, alright, just stop, for gods sake.”

Percy stops, but his hands remain splayed on Nico’s hips and it should not feel as good as it does. Nico swallows hard as Percy’s face looms over his.

“I’m waiting.”

“Fine. I’m ticklish. Happy?”

Percy kisses him quickly, letting his body fall on top of Nico’s.

“Unspeakably.”

Percy is heavy on top of him, but Nico has never been more comfortable. He lets his hands rest on Percy’s lower back and tucks his head into the crook of Percy’s neck which is becoming his new favorite place to be.

“So…” Percy speaks quietly, sobering, “… you kind of freaked out earlier.”

Nico stiffens, all the mortification from before rushing back in.

“You going to tell me what that was about?”

“I’d prefer not to.” Nico knows this is unfair, but he really would rather they not go into it. It’s too embarrassing for words, really.

“Well, I wish you would. You got so upset you almost shadow-traveled right off of me. I thought I did something wrong.” 

Nico is shocked. He looks at Percy.

“What- no! You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t think that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Percy still looks very unsure, and Nico feels terrible. This is supposed to be about encouraging Percy to touch, to not be afraid of hurting anyone by being close to them. Nico’s panic after Percy touched him probably shot any progress they’d made right in the foot.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Percy shakes his head, “Please don’t apologize. It’s like the flinching thing, right? Before. I just dive into things, don’t think ahead, and then it’s one disaster after another, isn’t it?”

Nico sighs, the defeated look on Percy’s face gripping his insides and twisting. 

“Percy, that isn’t true. I wanted you to… I mean, you have absolutely no idea how much I want you. It’s just, I don’t remember much about my life in the 40s… before the Lotus Hotel, but sometimes I feel really out of place. This kind of thing, I have no idea how to be comfortable with it. Like the touching. It’s just weird for me, that everyone touches so casually. I’ve never gotten used to it.” 

Percy is listening more intently than Nico knew he was capable of, and Nico realizes he’s never told anyone about this before. It’s different with Hazel – she seems like a girl from the early 20^th century, with her mannerisms and sensibilities, but she wasn’t dunked in the Lethe. Nico fits in better because the memories of that time are so dim, but there’s always been a sense of underlying wrongness that makes him feel like he’s outside looking in.

“Wow. I, uh, never thought about it that way before,” Percy mumbles, “Always assumed you were just sort of like that.”

Nico snorts, “I am like that. Human contact scares the shit of out me, to be honest.”

Percy’s voice is even quieter when he asks, “Does it scare you when I touch you?”

Nico feels his heart seize. “Yeah, more than anyone.”

He doesn’t give Percy time to look hurt, instead sliding his hands up Percy’s sides to frame his face. 

“It’s terrifying because I never want you to stop.”

Percy groans, and kisses Nico desperately before retreating to his neck and lingering over his protruding collarbone. Suddenly Nico finds himself very short of breath and very aware of how Percy is nestled right between his legs.

“You have no idea,” Percy murmurs, voice strained, “how hard it is to hear to you say things like that and not just... Every thought in my head screams stop, be careful, don’t lose control or you’ll hurt him, but I can’t help it. I want to touch you, and you let me. It makes me crazy.”

Nico’s heart is a freight train now, but he exhales slowly and smiles. 

“Yeah well, welcome to my world.”

Things might’ve escalating if they weren’t both so battered and exhausted, but for the moment Nico is (mostly) content just to lie under Percy and make out. Eventually Percy tucks himself into Nico’s side, and for once it feels totally normal for Nico to wrap his arms around him and nestle him under his chin. His whole body relaxes into the shape of the body against him, and Nico wants to overthink this, wants to dissect their fight, what happened afterwards, and why Percy is curled contentedly around him, but it’s too warm and mostly he just wants to never move so this can never end.

 

It seems impossible that he could sleep like this, but when Nico opens his eyes, early sun is streaming through the window of the cabin.  Nico goes to stretch his legs and realizes they are all tangled with someone else’s. Percy is still there, sound asleep, now with his back tucked against Nico’s chest, and Nico’s arm has managed to wrap possessively around his waist where Percy has his fingers firmly intertwined with Nico’s. Nico blinks slowly, staring at their hands from over Percy’s shoulder, when he realizes the light isn’t coming from the window.

It’s coming from the front door, which is open because Annabeth is standing in it.

 

 

Chapter Text

Nico really wishes he could’ve been wearing a shirt for this.

Technically, he could’ve put one on. Annabeth had turned and calmly left the cabin, leaving the door slightly ajar in an unmistakable message to come outside when ready. He could’ve grabbed one after he’d slowly (miraculously) extricated himself from Percy without waking him. The problem was, it seemed that Percy had gotten a bit carried away when removing Nico’s clothes the night before, and now the black t-shirt he’d been wearing was no where to be found in this dimension. The only shirt available without considerable exploration was an orange CHB one on the floor, and at the time, Nico thought going without would be better better than putting on one of Percy’s shirts to go chat with his girlfriend.

Critical error on his part, obviously.

Annabeth is sitting on the stoop when Nico comes out, in the exact spot he’d found Percy days before. She doesn’t hunch over, though, instead displaying perfect posture as she surveys her camp. It really is her camp, Nico thinks as he reluctantly sits down beside her. She’s lived here for the majority of her life, and put blood, sweat, and tears into keeping this place alive. Nico is just the intruder in her home.

At least he’s wearing pants.

She doesn’t look mad, though. Nico wouldn’t say happy, either, but at least she probably won’t start yelling at him. Or crying, which until now hadn’t even occurred to him and would be so much worse. Still, sitting in silence on the steps of Cabin #3 is painful and pointless.

“Annabeth, I-“

She holds up a hand and Nico stops short, obeying without question. He finds that the silent command doesn’t irk him the way he would’ve expected it to, and thinks that might be something to do with who gave it.

When she finally does speak, it is with sincerity.

“I was not planning on coming back.” 

Whatever Nico was going to say, it’s gone now.

“What, ever?”

She gives him a very tiny smile.

“No, probably not ever, but for longer than this. It’s too soon.”

“I’m glad you came back.”

The words are just as surprising to Nico as they clearly are to Annabeth. He had planned on asking some manner of “why” question, but when her smile widens a little, Nico is glad he said it. 

“You really are, aren’t you?”

“Yes. He misses you.”

Other girls would’ve made some biting comment after hearing this from the guy in bed with their boyfriend, but not Annabeth. She just nods as her eyes rake over his chest and arms, and Nico remembers that he is covered in a lot of nasty looking bruises. He doesn’t have time to wonder was Annabeth thinks of that before she speaks,

“Yes, but he doesn’t need me.” 

Nico isn’t so sure about that, but he doesn’t respond. Annabeth changes the subject.

“There’s something going on at Camp Jupiter.”

She looks so serious, Nico’s mind immediately switches to her line of thinking.

“How do you mean?”

“Some unrest. A small faction maladjusted to the increased contact between the camps. Probably led by Octavian.”

Nico stops short, “Octavian? He defected. No one’s seen him in months.”

Annabeth nods, “Yes, but he still communicates with the camp. I believe he’s drummed up sympathizers who were already chafing under the new infrastructure. Reyna is… reluctant to believe it, but I think they may try to make a move on Camp Half-Blood.”

Annabeth’s face tinges pink, which is odd but Nico ignores it.

“You can’t think he wouldn’t try an all-out attack?”

“No, Octavian is too clever for that. He knows they’d fail in any kind of frontal assault. I think an infiltrator is more likely.”

Nico is glad Annabeth has her strategist hat on. Last time he’d seen her, she’d been so lost, so without direction, almost a different person entirely. It was like she’d lost the Greek side of her heritage and became Minerva, stripped of all the power of Athena. Now that her mind has something to plan, some of the fire Nico remembers seems to have resurfaced.

“What’s the point, though?” Nico asks, “What is a spy going to accomplish during peacetime? You guys aren’t planning anything besides the summer tournament, as far as I can see.”

“I don’t know,” Annabeth admits, looking frustrated, “I agree, it doesn’t make sense. Without motive, it’ll be hard to convince anyone to ramp up defenses. That’s why Reyna is hesitating. She thinks it’ll make us look paranoid, and undermine the fragile diplomacy we’ve worked for if we start throwing accusations around.”

“Well, she’s right, but I spent a fair amount of time at Camp Jupiter before the war. Some people there aren’t as enthusiastic about the prospect of peace as you’d hope. If you say Octavian is pulling the strings on a plan, I believe you.”

Annabeth smiles, but this time she turns to look at him, and Nico feels a little stunned by how warm her face is. He’s always found Athena to be logical to the point of cold ruthlessness, but when Annabeth beams at him like this, it is so easy to see why Percy loves her.

“I knew you would. I haven’t mentioned my suspicions to anyone else in case it starts a panic, but I needed someone I could trust, just in case. Keep an eye out, will you?”

Nico nods, and Annabeth returns to gazing out over the field. Other campers are starting to emerge from their cabins, and a few are shooting interested glances at the two of them. It makes Nico uncomfortable.

Then, both he and Annabeth’s heads both whip back to the cabin door at the same moment because Percy’s voice is clear from inside.

“Nico?”

Nico jumps to his feet. Annabeth grabs his wrist just as he begins to walk away.

“Wait!”

He looks at her hand, and at her, and it’s all so warm. Too warm. He obeys again, but only for a second.

“It’s okay. You stay, I’ll go. I have to… um, yeah." 

She lets go just as he decides to pull away. He is halfway across the lawn when he hears,

“Nico!”

His body turns of its own accord. Annabeth is still sitting on the step, looking at him.

“Yeah?” 

“I’m glad you came back, too.”

He doesn’t look back again.

 

Nico couldn’t honestly tell you what he did with the next 4 hours. He’s got a shirt, so it seems like he might’ve stopped by his cabin at some point. He thinks he might’ve gone to the meadow only to immediately realize that was a huge mistake and then shadow traveled to Thalia’s pine tree. As far as the rest of the time, it’s a mystery, so when Jason finds him at the top of the hill, facing away from Camp, and asks him what he’s doing, that isn’t the question he answers.

“I’m an idiot.”

Jason levels that horrible full-of-wisdom Jason-look at him and sits down.

“I doubt it, but alright. Why are you sitting up here on the border?" 

“Thinking about leaving.”

“Just thinking?”

“Apparently.”

Jason doesn’t push, which is annoying because Nico wants to tell him to back the fuck off and he never gets that opportunity. Jason just sits there in polite silence until Nico inevitably ends up confessing. It never takes very long. 

“I’ve been hooking up with Percy for the past 2 weeks.”

To his credit, Jason does not react. He just stands, and holds a hand out to Nico, who finds himself taking it.

“C’mon. Let’s go hit each other with swords and talk about it.”

 

So that’s how Nico ends up in the sparring arena, sweating far more than could be considered ruggedly attractive, with enough new bruises to make the ones Percy gave him look a lot less suspicious.

“So,” Jason starts, slightly out of breath but otherwise so maddeningly composed that Nico wants to smack him, preferably with his sword, “I knew something was up, dude. I mean I’ve barely even seen you since you showed up at camp for the tournament. Just didn’t know it was this. What happened?”

“Well,” Nico tries to match his composure as he attempts to land a hit. He’s a good swordsman. Prodigal, even, considering he’s almost entirely self-taught. So the fact that he’s getting his ass beat by Golden Boy is not sitting well. Later, Nico figures he can just claim the frustration is what drove him to dirty tactics that he absolutely never would’ve employed otherwise.

“Actually, it was Annabeth’s idea?”

“What?!” That’s all he needed – just a half a second of distraction. Nico gets Jason in the side with the flat of his blade.

“Dead.”

Jason glares, and Nico enjoys the rare moment of him looking anything other than kind and understanding.

“Low blow, di Angelo.”

“Actually, I think it was well-within the safe zone, Grace.”

Jason advances again, and without the element of snark on his side, Nico is forced to defend.

“Okay, that isn’t exactly what happened.”

“Oh, you don’t say.”

“But she did tell me to go to him.”

“Why?”

Nico falters, and Jason clips him on the thigh.

“Dead.”

“What?! I totally would’ve lived through that. I, uh, can’t tell you why. But that’s what happened. She’s probably in Cabin #3 right now if you want to ask her.”

Jason smirks, “Yeah, I’ll take your word for it. So how did this end in the hooking up you mentioned?”

Nico manages to dodge the next attack, and swings hugely at Jason’s midsection, knowing he won’t make contact.

“Well, apparently, he’s had um… there have been some, ah, he told me that he has…”

He can’t resort to his normal hand waving while holding a sword. Jason laughs,

“Feelings, Nico. Say it with me. Feelings.”

“Shut up. Anyway, he has those, for uh, me, I guess.”

“Wait, so he came on to you?!”

“Your complete disbelief is touching. What, did you think I threw myself at him? I was going to take that secret with me to my grave. Or yours. Whichever. Dead." 

Nico feels the competitive rush in his veins as he gains ground, landing another hit.

“Does Annabeth know? About these feelings?” Jason blocks Nico’s next three moves in perfect sequence. He’s on defense, but he didn’t spend the day before getting acquainted with Percy’s newest superpower, and Nico is exhausted. 

“Yeah. Apparently she knew what was going on the whole time.”

“Sounds like Annabeth.”

Nico laughs in agreement, thinking about this girl he’s known since he was 10 who they’d all be lost without. It’s weird for him to feel particularly affectionate for anyone, but Annabeth was nice to him when he was just an annoying kid and no one else wanted him. Right before she fell off a cliff, got kidnapped, and managed to survive holding up the sky. Nico always admired her complete refusal to give up, and she’s one of the few people in the world he would actually describe as a friend. He realizes he hasn’t exactly acted like it. 

His blade clashing with Jason’s shakes him out of his guilty reverie. He’s forced to pay attention has Jason advances again, all while trying to avoid looking at the concerned face of his attacker. It’s Jason’s big-brother face, and while Nico hates it, he’s a little touched in addition to annoyed.

Jason sighs as their swords clang together again. 

“So what are you going to do now?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Nico catches a flash of orange. He reflexively turns towards it, just in time to see Percy stop short, Riptide in hand. They make eye contact, and there’s nothing else in the world besides Percy and the conflicted and hopeful expression on his face. Nico feels the bottom drop out of his stomach.

That, or it could be Jason hooking Nico’s ankle with his foot and dropping him onto the hard dirt of the pitch. The collision hurts more than it should; gravel presses into Nico’s bruises he feels all the air rush out of his lungs. Now, the only thing in the world is Jason’s sword under his chin. Nico lets his head drop back onto the ground, and thinks he may just lie there forever to escape dealing with any of the torrent of bullshit that seems to be his life. He groans and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I have no idea.” 

Jason nods, grimacing.

“Dead.”

 

Dinner is brutal. Nico alternates between surreptitiously watching Annabeth, who is trying to match the enthusiasm of her siblings and failing, and outright staring at Percy, who is alone at the Poseidon table, looking more down than Nico has ever seen him. Neither of them is eating, and though Nico knows he should be hungry after getting his ass kicked all over the pitch this afternoon, he just feels nauseous. Eventually, he just resorts to staring at his plate of pomegranate and a few slices of cheese, until enough other campers have finished their dinners that it doesn’t look so suspicious for him to leave. He ignores the bonfire completely and trudges off towards his cabin. 

Nico feels irrationally furious as he flops back on his bunk, not even bothering to remove his shoes or his sword from his belt. Percy has no cause to look so upset. His beautiful girlfriend is back in camp, they (presumably) spent the afternoon getting reacquainted with each other, and he can go back to being blissfully happy with her. Annabeth is so understanding, that idiot probably isn’t even in trouble for spending the last 2 weeks fooling around with someone else.

Nico unsheathes his sword and starts tapping it against the bedpost as he fumes, ignoring the small chips of wood that are splintering off with each strike. Every time he gets involved, it ends up the same. He agrees to help against his better judgment, makes the same stupid mistake, thinking this time, it’ll be different. This time, he’ll get rewarded for trying to do the right thing; people will be able to look at him without cringing. But it never happens, and in the end the only choice left is to fade in the background, like always, having come in to solve yet another crisis only to be sent on his way as thanks. 

Nico tries to hate Annabeth, even though he knows it’s pointless. He’s been trying for years, but Annabeth is not the kind of girl you can hate. She’s just too good. Something about the logical way her mind works keeps her above the petty, shallow ways of normal people, but she’s so inherently genuine that she never seems self-righteous or vain. Nico thinks her fatal flaw of hubris is hysterical because, honestly, she probably can do it better than anyone else. He’s always thought so, which made it really hard to get his heart behind stealing her boyfriend. He doesn’t have any evidence, but Nico is pretty sure he’s not the relationship type.

So, he’s angry and he can’t be mad at Annabeth. That always leaves Percy. This process of elimination has driven Nico’s bitterness towards him for so long, but now the longer Nico tries to indulge that old feeling, the more he just ends up thinking about Percy’s hands, or how his hair feels between Nico’s fingers, or the way it feels to be surrounded by him when he’s lying on top of you and…

Nico shakes his head, trying not to think at all, but it’s impossible. He used to think Percy was like Annabeth, one of those people who are so truly good that they couldn’t be real. A hero straight out of old myths. Now, he knows the truth, that Percy is imperfect. It seems obvious in retrospect, and Nico had mostly let go of that ridiculous notion when he realized that neither hero-worship or unbridled resentment of Percy Jackson were going to make him feel any better about the situation, but now.

Now he knows for sure. Percy is jealous, insecure, violent, afraid, and all these things make Nico want him so much more that it’s like someone left a hot coal in his stomach. To see it so clearly, that he and Percy are so indelibly alike, that Nico, that creepy Hades kid, really could be the right person for someone like Percy,it brings the long stifled clenching feeling in his chest back with a vengeance, and just like that Nico is in love with him all over again and-

Shit.

Nico hits the bedpost with his sword a little too hard and the top breaks off and flies across the room. He flings his arm over his face and yells in frustration, because what the fuck is he going to do, he knew this was all doomed to be temporary but now that he’s faced with having to let go of Percy again-

“Nico?”

Nico freezes, and slowly peers out from under his forearm. Percy is standing in his doorway, holding the chopped off bedpost in his hands, looking so concerned that Nico is either going to sink through the floor and flee or go straight across the room to murder him.

“Yeah?”

His voice is calmer than he expected, which is reassuring, but Percy’s eyebrows just furrow deeper.

“Are you okay?”

After a quick glance down his sword to where his bedpost is decidedly missing, Nico manages a withering look that could kill a giant redwood. Certainly enough to make Percy flinch.

“Just fine. What are you doing here? Where’s Annabeth?” 

Percy frowns, “Um, in her cabin?”

“Oh. Coming by later, then?” 

“Probably not. I don’t… you know, want to risk anything happening.” 

Nico scoffs, “Oh yes, well, if it’s Annabeth I guess you can never be to safe, right?”

Percy looks irritated, “No, you can’t.”

“No problem throwing me to the wolves, though.” 

Nico flinches at the look on Percy’s face, but he doesn’t try to take it back. He just can’t deal with this, this impossible situation, right now without shouting at Percy or pleading with him, and if those are his only options, there’s no choice. 

“It isn’t like that. Nico, you can defend yourself. She can’t.”

“You didn’t know that until today!”

“But she did!"

Nico sits up suddenly, forgetting to be angry.

“She did?”

“Of course she did,” Percy says carefully, “She knew you would volunteer to help, Nico. Annabeth wouldn’t let that happen unless she was sure you’d be okay.” 

“It’d be a lot easier for her if you’d accidentally killed me.”

He knows immediately that he’s crossed a line. Percy’s face storms over.

“Don’t say that. Don’t you fucking dare.”

Nico knows this is the time to stand down, to apologize, but he can’t. The fight-or-flight reflex is back full force, but he cannot bring himself to run anymore.

“I didn’t say she’d do it on purpose. But it’s true, I only make things harder for the two of you.”

“So fucking what?” Percy shouts, “You think that means it’d be easier for us if you were dead?”

“Well, it would save you the choice, because you can’t have both of us, Jackson.”

Even as the words come out of his mouth they sound ridiculous. For one, it’s a joke. The idea that there would even be a choice, that Nico would even be considered as an option is downright laughable.

But really, it’s absurd because the black and white solution Nico just blurted out isn’t a solution at all. It’s never been about that, about who Percy wants more, never been about asking him to pick. He immediately wishes he hadn’t said it, hadn’t even started this fight, because what is in his head and the words coming out of his mouth are drifting further and further apart and he can’t bring them back together.

Percy stops short, and when he speaks his voice is low and stressed.

“I know that." 

“Do you?” 

Do I?

“Of course, you think I don’t?”

“So, what’re you going to do?”

I’m sorry.

“I don’t know.”

It isn’t fair, but this answer makes Nico’s words even angrier.

“No kidding. Well, forgive me if I don’t hang around for the answer.”

Please forgive me.

“You’re not leaving.” It isn’t a question.

Nico fumes. “No? Because you said so? Fuck you. I’m done waiting to be your second choice.”

Liar.

“You aren’t my second choice!”

“So, you pick me?”

Don’t pick me.

“I don’t know!” 

“You’re done with me!” Nico stands up, yelling. “You’ve got it all under control now. Don’t need me anymore! Just say it! Thanks for your help, Nico, I’m going to go back to my perfect life now.”

Just say it.

Percy explodes. Nico has never seen him like this, his face so twisted, and the knowledge that he pushed him to this point burns like acid in his throat. 

“You think my life is fucking perfect?” Percy roars,  “You think I haven’t had to make choices, to let people die, to betray my friends, to let someone die so I can save someone else instead? I had to, over and over and over again. I can’t do it anymore! You cannot ask me to! How can I just decide not to love one of you?” 

“You have to.”

I don’t want you to.

“I CAN’T!” 

The ground rumbles and Nico feels the coming of a storm in the air. Wind is ripping through the cabin, filling its dark halls with the sea spray smell that usually makes Nico feel so calm. The torches flicker. Somewhere in the distance people are yelling but Nico can’t focus on what they’re saying.

Percy looks so destroyed that all the fight goes out of Nico. Just one look and how he feels and what he says come crashing back together. There is something about knowing the perfect ways to hurt someone that makes you pull your punches, and Nico can’t deal the killing blow just because he knows exactly where to put the blade. His anger deserts him when he sees that Percy’s eyes are wet, and he almost gives in to the pull in his chest to go to him. He’s about to move when the words Percy just shouted at him catch up and pull the rug out from under him.

“What… what did you say?”

Percy is more perceptive than anyone gives him credit for, because he doesn’t even ask what Nico’s talking about. He just sighs, and speaks without stumbling once.

“I can’t just stop needing you because I love Annabeth, but I can’t stop needing Annabeth because I’m in love with you.”

“You… what?”

Percy just shrugs, and actually smiles a little.

“You heard me. Thought it was pretty obvious, actually, but Annabeth does always tell me to stop assuming everyone knows what’s in my head… besides kelp, I mean.” 

Nico just stares at him. It feels kind of like when Percy was manipulating the plants in their meadow, where all the color seems to wash out of the world and the whole place feels like it’s underwater and he must be drowning. He’s believed no one could ever feel that way about him for so long, that he’d be a pariah forever, needed but not cared for. Now, so many years of pointless hope come crashing down on him, and Nico knows what he needs to say, and what he needs to do. They don’t match up, and action wins out over the truth just like it always does in his head.

“She doesn’t believe it, you know.”

Percy clearly was at least hoping for a different response, if not exactly expecting one.

“Who… what?” He asks, confused.

“Annabeth. She doesn’t know that you need her.”

Percy deflates a little, looking more sad than the overwhelmed panic he was before. 

“I know.”

“You should tell her.”

Nico knows Percy’s learned as much about him as he’s learned about Percy in the past two weeks when Percy steps closer and extends his arm as if to stop Nico from leaving when Nico hasn’t even moved. He knows rejection when he sees it, he doesn’t need to hear the words. Percy immediately recognizes the dismissal, and his face goes from calm to manic all over again.

“Nico, I-“

“Go. Talk to her. Bring her here, if you like. The harpies never check this cabin since I’m never around.” 

Nico sheathes his sword and grabs his jacket from the bed, shrugging it on as Percy desperately grasps for something to keep him there.

“Where are you going?” 

“I, uh… the farmhouse. There’s a thing, I need to talk to Chiron about.”

Nico privately wonders when he became such a horrible liar.

“It’s 10 o’clock at night!”

“Talk to her, Percy. Make her believe you.” 

“Nico, please, wait-“

But Nico doesn’t feel compelled to listen Percy like he did with Annabeth. He brushes past him and leaves the cabin, walking aimlessly into the night. Percy doesn’t follow him, but Nico can feel eyes boring into the back of his head as he steps onto the grass of the lawn.

But it isn’t grass. 

There are narrow rivers of white water cutting through long swaths of the field between the cabins. Rafts of dark earth run over the grass, and new rocks and ledges are exposed and jutting through the ground. Mud covers Nico’s boots as he stands there, looking out over the torn up grounds. The field looks like a giant claw raked over it and then a tsunami hit. Campers are grouping outside of their cabins with wet and muddy feet, looking around in confusion.

Nico gets to Cabin #1 right as Jason comes rushing out, in just his shorts.

“Nico, what happened?”

“What do you mean?” Nico asks blearily. His whole body aches, like his just fought a war. It’s like there’s a block of lead in his stomach where the fire used to be and it’s pulling him towards the ground. 

“There was a landslide and a geyser erupted out of the lawn at the same time. Some of the cabins flooded. There’s mud and rocks and uprooted trees everywhere.”

“Oh. Is everyone okay?” 

“Yeah, no one was hurt, though the Demeter cabin sunk a foot into the ground. They aren’t too upset about it, just started pulling up the floor and muttering about indoor gardening.”

Nico chuckles a little and Jason leans in close and speaks quietly.

“I saw Percy heading to your cabin earlier. Is everything okay?”

Nico looks at his shoes, at the mud covering the toes. He shakes his head imperceptibly and asks,

“Can I stay in your cabin tonight?”

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

Nico manages to clasp Jason’s shoulder briefly in thanks as he walks by him and into the imposing stone cabin. He kicks off his shoes by the door, drops his sword next to the bed, and collapses onto the thin mattress. 

He rolls towards the wall, staring at the stones until the din of campers bustling around outside eventually lulls enough for him to fall asleep.

 

 

Chapter Text

Nico wakes up, which is weird because surely the world should’ve stopped turning.

He is blissfully disoriented for a few seconds before reality comes crashing in and his heart shudders to a dull roar in his ears. Maybe he can just stay in bed all day, hiding. The cold stone walls seem too close and stifling and he fights down a wave of nausea, which could either be the paralyzing claustrophobia or the thought of having to see Percy at some point today. Nico groans, thinking he hasn’t been awake nearly long enough to be so pathetic already, and rolls onto his back to see gray light streaming through the windows.

It’s one of Camp Half Blood’s rare gloomy days. In the low light, Cabin #1 looks even more sterile and inhospitable than normal, and he isn’t surprised to see Jason’s bunk is crisply made and long vacated. Even though he tends to frequent dark, unwelcoming places, Nico wouldn’t spend any more time in this cabin than he absolutely had to, even to avoid seeing Percy. He slides out of bed, wincing at the cool stone through his holey socks, and makes half an effort to put the rumpled blankets back into place. He steals one of Jason’s shirts from the dresser (white will have to do because there’s no chance in Hades he’ll be seen in purple or orange), and grabs his jacket from the hook over the mirror.

Intersecting with the mirror turns out to be a mistake, and Nico actually starts at his appearance. The reflection is generally awful, and having his skin battered with yellowing bruises is doing nothing for his already abysmal complexion. Really, though, it’s his eyes, he realizes. They’ve been different over the past week or so, but he didn’t realize it until just now when the bags beneath them are so pronounced that they make his face look like a skull. His normally brown irises are black, and with the exhaustion written all over him, Nico can’t ignore that he looks like absolute shit. He’s normally very indifferent his looks, but as he stares at the ghoul in the mirror, Nico thinks the improvements over the past few days must’ve made a big difference because not having them certainly does.

Oh well. Fed up with his own reflection, Nico strides out the door and onto the lawn before he can talk himself out of it. Campers are bustling about, setting up posts and fences and seats, and Nico realizes it’s the day before the summer tournament. The tournament had been Reyna’s idea, as a way to spark some healthy competition between Camp Half Blood and Camp Jupiter and to get everyone together at least once a summer. Nico thinks it’s a great idea, honestly, because for a demigod, nothing makes a lifelong friend like a little fighting, but now he finds it hard to feel much enthusiasm.  That the whole event coming to fruition is in large due to Percy’s leadership may have something to do with it.

The camp bursting with activity indicates just how late in the day it is. The misty light makes it hard to get a good grip on time, but now Nico realizes he slept through breakfast completely. Nico scratches his neck and tries to remember if he really slept or just stared at the wall. It seems like he must of dosed off at some point, but he’s so tired still it’s like he never closed his eyes. His muscles ache, and for a second Nico actually considers going up to the Big House to get some nectar except Chiron will make him explain how he got so injured in the first place and there is a snowball’s chance in Hades of that ever happening so never mind then. 

He’s heading in the direction of the fire pit before he even registers the sparks drifting up into the clouds. Only somewhere as ridiculous as Camp Half Blood would have a bonfire going in the middle of the day in August, but it’s always been the place at CHB where he feels the most comfortable and spends the most time (though the meadow has taken up an ironic second). At least from there he can make good on his promise to Annabeth to keep an eye out for any weirdness amongst the campers. He feels another pang of guilt, both because she trusted him with that information and not Percy, and because he’s barely thought about it since their conversation.

There just isn’t any logic to work out, he thinks as he sits on one of the massive oak logs around the fire pit. The flames are about waist-height today, which on the eve of a tournament is a little on the low side, but the color is flickering warm yellows and reds. The purpose of an attack could just be to cause chaos and disrupt the peace between the camps, but in that case Nico doesn’t see how they’re going to head it off at the pass. There’s no puzzle to piece together, and it’s hard to identify abnormal behavior without some hard motive from the enemy. Maybe just thinking of Camp Jupiter as the enemy is the whole point.

Nico absentmindedly picks at the bark on the log and throws pieces into the flames, wondering if he isn’t just trying to unravel Annabeth’s suspicious in favor of focusing on the rest of the circus that is his life. Better than thinking about the look Nico left on Percy’s face when he walked away from him the night before. The nausea strikes again and Nico’s whole body clenches against it.

Jason comes out of nowhere, making Nico jump and throw the piece of bark he’d been turning in his palm far wide of the fire. It lands just at the edge of the flames. Nico sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, and doesn’t bother trying to get out of this conversation. He feels pretty stupid for ever thinking he was going to just get away with the previous evening’s events without some kind of talk about feelings. He still avoids eye contact, though, staring at the little fire growing on the piece of bark. It’s darker than the rest of the flames, he thinks vacantly. Kind of… blue, but so pitch dark it’s almost...

“Hey Nico. You slept in?”

Nico snaps his eyes away from the flames to see Jason smile tentatively at him.

“How’re you feeling?”

He wants to be annoyed, he really does, at the questioning, but instead he just shrugs.

“M’fine. Everything looks normal though. No major damage?" 

“Nah. Everyone seems content with the earthquake story. Which is pretty accurate, I guess.” Jason pauses, and then says quietly, “You want to tell me what’s up?" 

“I thought I did.”

“Yeah, and then the ground exploded, so I figured there might be news.”

“Not really. It’s um, done, I think,” Nico says, keeping his voice impressively even. He shoves his hands in his pockets because they’re shaking. “Which is, uh, good. Really. For the best.”

Jason levels a dry stare at him that has Nico avoiding eye contact, but then he surprisingly relents.

“Alright. Well, you should head the armory, pick up your sword. I took the liberty of prying it out of your death grip off it this morning to get it sharpened, though I don’t know why I bother seeing as you can’t hit anything with it.”

Nico glowers, but inside he feels the noose around his heart loosen a little. He’s grateful that Jason is giving him a reprieve, trying to distract him with humor (even if it’s at his own expense). Everyone else in the camp is perpetually on eggshells around him, but he can always count on Jason to make him feel a little more normal.

“Watch it, Golden Boy, before I roll you into my next earthquake.”

Jason laughs and claps him on the shoulder before heading off towards the dining pavilion. Nico watches him go, and not for the first time he is thankful for Jason’s respect for boundaries. Especially since his friend knows that if he just persists Nico will spill his guts out as usual.

He doesn’t feel a strong desire to get his sword, but doing something completely unnecessary is better than doing nothing at all, so he heads for the armory. It isn’t that his sword didn’t sorely need sharpening, because it did, but he isn’t even sure he’s going to fight tomorrow. Other demigods tend to get uncomfortable dueling him, and after the past couple of days he feels like he might not even be up for it. What’s odd to him is that he didn’t even notice he didn’t have the blade until Jason mentioned it. He’s just so tired and distracted. Not a good mindset for a tournament… or a fight. 

The mist is denser on this side of camp, and the low stone fort of the armory is barely visible through the pillars of the arena. It’s colder too, and there’s something weirdly familiar about the way the air smells to Nico as he cuts through the columns. Cool and dry, and a little musty, like peat moss or caves. He doesn’t have time to figure out where specifically it reminds him of, though, because halfway through his shortcut across the pitch he hears a deep and nervous voice call from behind him. 

“Nico!”

Ahh.

Nico freezes and resists the urge to slap himself. Of course Jason only let him off the hook about the night before, even distracted him with teasing, because he had some other ploy in mind. Something like sending Nico through the arena where someone would undoubtedly be training and/or lying in wait to ambush him.

He makes a silent vow to fight in the tournament just so he has a good excuse to maim Jason Grace before turning around and forcing himself to make eye contact with Percy who is jogging towards him through the fog. Seeing him is every bit as gut wrenching as Nico expected, but he tries not to fold completely.

“Percy.”

Percy stops in front of him, just a little too close for a normal conversation. Nico wants to step back because they aren’t exactly alone, but Percy just leans in like he hasn’t noticed or doesn’t care. 

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you since I saw your landscaping work on the lawn last night.”

“Hey, I don’t think I get all the credit for that.”

Percy gives him a small smile (which absolutely does not make Nico’s heart stutter), and then says quietly,

“Can we talk, please? Without you giving up on the conversation and vanishing?”

“I wasn’t vanishing. I was… getting out of the way.”

“I didn’t want you out of the way.”

Nico’s eyes finally betray him and dart to the side. The torches around the arena are low and dim, black coal licked with blue flames. He shivers, which really could be because it’s so cold. Really.

“It’d still be better for you if I was.”

Percy gives an exasperated sigh and gently lifts Nico’s chin to catch his eyes from where they’d stopped somewhere between his toes and the dirt.

“Shouldn’t I get some say in what’s best for me?”

His words aren’t angry, Nico realizes. If he’d said them, it would have been in petulant rage, but Percy just sounds really sad. Nico feels his throat ache as he tries to get words out without crumbling.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said. For everything. I didn’t mean it. I just… I can’t. I can’t get between you and Annabeth. You are just supposed to be with her, always. I thought I wanted… but no. I can’t. I just… I need to go.”

Percy catches his arm before he can leave. Nico feels a buzzing in his ears.

“Nico, wait, please. I don’t want you to go. Annabeth doesn’t want you to go. You’ve got to stop thinking everything is better without-“

But Nico can’t hear what Percy is saying. There’s something else, just on the edge of his mind. Like a pinprick, distracting him. Nico can see it now in the faces of the campers running around, carrying weapons and armor and shields. Now that he’s trying to hard not to look at Percy, everything else is in sharp focus. Something about the weather, or the torches. The camp is bursting with enthusiasm for tomorrow. The bonfire really should have been higher. It should be sunny. 

“Nico, what are you-“

Nico’s eyes dart around the area, but everything is silent as his ears strain to discover the piece that’s out of place. The buzz against his eardrums turns into a high-pitched whine, too distracting to ignore. There’s no monster smell, and how would one get past the border, but it’s too dark, too cloudy, and Nico’s mind races because something in this place is just wrong and if he could just figure out what it is… 

He feels the stone arrowhead before he realizes its attached to an arrow. He doesn’t hear the bow release but instead feels the murmur of a rock in motion. Racing, and there is no time, no time to register that his sword isn’t at his waist and he has no shield and there’s only one thing to do because the stone is flying, flying much to fast, right at the boy who is gripping his shoulders and trying to get his attention.

Nico shoves Percy away and turns in one motion, twists his body to face the forest, just in time for the arrow to pierce his right side just beneath the ribs and lodge there. Nico feels the pressure, just like a punch to his gut before he staggers back, the force knocking him off his feet. His spine hits the dirt, the gravel presses into his skin, and it’s just like when he lay here yesterday and gave up on his life, but now there’s ripping and tearing of flesh and throbbing and oh now there is pain there is so much pain. 

Everything is definitely black for a minute, but then there’s movement in his periphery, legs standing over him, then kneeling. Someone is shouting in his ear except they might also be a mile away and he just can’t tell the difference.

“Nico! N-Nico, please, look at me. Keep your eyes open. Somebody help, please!”

There is some scuffle happening at the edge of the forest – Nico can see it with the side of his face pressed in the dirt. Jason, and maybe a few other campers, dragging a guy across the ground and away from the trees. A guy with sandy blonde hair and a bow…

The frantic yelling of the person kneeling besides him distracts him from the scene by the woods. Hands grip his face and turn it skyward, and there’s Percy looking down at him, with his face ashen and his eyes terrified and he is so beautiful it hurts to look at him. 

Or that could be the hands applying pressure to his abdomen, forcing a strangled cry from Nico’s mouth. Not Percy’s hands. Smaller, soft, with thin fingers and smooth palms.

“Annabeth, please. You have to help him.”

“Percy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t tell you and now he’s… I’m so sorry.”

“What are you… Tell me what?”

Nico finds his voice for words instead of screaming, though it seems trapped under a sand coating on the inside of his throat and lungs.

“Annabeth, I… I think I found your spy.”

Percy’s eyes harden and Nico knows his voice must sound as horrible as it feels coming out of his mouth. He registers his body being pulled backwards, his chest elevated, and strong, tan arms wrap around his midsection and hold on. Another gasp escapes his lips at the motion, and he feels more pressure on the wound. Percy is standing in front of him, looking down, eyes hardening with every tremor, and Nico wants to tell him to come back but the sand is filling his mouth now and the words are buried.

The person behind him has a calm, soothing voice even though Nico can tell she is on the verge of tears.

“It’s alright, Nico. You’re going to be all right. The arrow is blocking the blood flow. Healers are coming. Just breathe.” He realizes he’d been heaving great lung-fills of air that didn’t seem to be reaching his brain. 

Jason pushes the kid with the bow to the dirt in front of Percy. Nico can just see him over the end of his feet which are wavering in and out of focus. He squints and realizes he recognizes the attacker. It’s that guy, the one that talked to him at dinner. Nico, nearly delirious, almost laughs, which is a huge mistake because it feels like he’s been shot all over again. Figures no one would actually talk to him of their own accord unless they were devising some kind of murderous plot.

It’s like a nightmare, where Nico knows his consciousness should be failing but instead it’s getting brighter and brighter the less he wants to see it. Percy turns away, and Nico’s vision sharpens. Everything is crisp and clear, and the gray light in the area washes out even more, the sounds of the yelling campers fading in his ears. Nico realizes a second too late what is happening. He wants to yell, to tell Jason to drag the kid away, because the guy is going to be dead in a few seconds if he doesn’t.  It doesn’t matter what Nico wants though because his lungs feel heavy and not up for much besides struggling to inflate.

Percy kneels and grabs the guy by the neck. 

“Who are you?” Percy shouts in his face, but recognition lights just as the guy tries stammers out an answer.

“It’s you! You showed up in Cabin 10 a few months ago! Why are you doing this? Who helped you? Tell me now.”

The guy (Eric? Nico’s mind dimly throws at him. Sure, why not.) is gasping and Nico realizes Percy’s hand is on his throat. He folds so easily it’s kind of pathetic.

“It-it wasn’t me! He said…” he points at Nico, “… he told me he was a spy, that I’d be a hero. That I’d save the camp.”

“Who did?”

Eric falters, gasping again and Nico sees the muscles in Percy’s forearm clench. Jason looks concerned but doesn’t intervene. 

“O-Octavian. He said he’d be here. He said he’d get me out. Please, please don’t hurt me.”

The owner of the arms wrapped around Nico’s midsection (Annabeth, must be Annabeth) shudders. Percy throws Eric carelessly to the side and stands, looking towards the forest. Eric is coughing and spitting into the dirt, but no one pays attention to him anymore as the wind gently rustles the pines. The arena is quiet, and Nico feels the pressure on his eardrums competing with the throb in his side. His vision is blurring, and naturally his eyes fall on Percy and stay there, watching as his back stiffens and all the color seeps out of the world.

Percy throws his hands out to the sides and roars at the trees. A yell Nico didn’t know he was capable of, pure and guttural and painful just to listen to. His whole body seizes as he throws his weight forward, and Nico sees a shape, a body, fly over the tree line and slam into the ground at Percy’s feet. Nico watches Percy’s whole body seize, the muscles in his back and arms clench with strain, and the name that escapes his lips comes with so much anger Nico swears can feel the skin chafing in his own throat. 

“Octavian!”

The body on the ground is struggling to stand, and though the face looks bewildered and apprehensive, it has the audacity to laugh.

“Oh, well-spotted, Jackson.”

The arena goes strangely silent and Nico hopes someone is actually coming because something warm and wet seems to be spreading over his stomach.

“You… you shot him?" 

“Don’t be stupid, I clearly had someone else do that,” Octavian spits, slowly rising to his feet in front of Percy, “I was halfway home until I was flying through the air. I have my beloved ex-Praetor Jason Grace to thank for that, I presume?" 

No one answers. Everyone stares. Octavian falters. Percy is shaking.

“But… but why?”

Octavian rolls his eyes, even as he is backing slowly away towards the forest.

“He’s a traitor to both sides and you know it, Jackson.”

Percy shakes his head furiously, “Shut up.”

Octavian thrusts a tightly bound scroll into the air.

“I have official sanction from Camp Jupiter to kill on sight for crimes against the state.”

Annabeth’s arms tighten around him and Nico can feel her head shaking frantically.  There’s a tremor in her muscles though, something nervous.

“It’s not true. That order would have to come from Reyna… from the Praetor. She wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I assure you she would. Don’t mistake our Praetor’s affections for sentiment or compassion, girl. Jason can tell you all about error of your ways in this regard, I’m sure.”

Nico really wants to point out that, while he has a vested interest in this discussion, it’ll be hard to get information out of Octavian after Percy kills him and that might be the more pressing matter. Too bad the sand lining his throat seems to be turning to concrete.

“The freak was quite hard to track down,” Octavian admits, smiling pleasantly and looking at his nails. “I suppose I should thank you, Percy, for your help in luring him out into the open.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Either Nico’s vision is vibrating or Percy’s whole body is shaking.

“Honestly, I am surprised at how much you care. Would’ve thought Miss Chase surely, but apparently not. Once Eric informed me of your… attachment, well, I must say I love it when a good plan comes together. He’s been long overdue in paying for his crimes against Camp Jupiter.”

Octavian’s voice lowers, his smile darkens.

“Hurting you, Jackson, well. That’s just gravy.”

The whole arena is silent. Nico can see the faces of other campers, and they’re brightening and darkening interchangeably. He wonders if they’re taking sides, or maybe he’s starting to imagine things…

Octavian extends his wrists and smirks.

“Now what are you going to do, throw me back in a cell? Worked so well the last time.”

Percy snaps.

His left arm flies forward and as his fingers clench the trees on the forward edge of the forest explode in a bomb of pith and needles and sap. The roar of a flood fills Nico’s ears as the torrent of water rushes across the field and into the arena, coming down onto Octavian like a giant fist. It pounds him to the ground. Percy extends his right arm and the water follows, lifting Octavian’s body like a rag doll, back to his feet and only slam him down again. His head cracks against the ground. Annabeth’s arms around Nico’s middle tighten, and Nico can feel the muscles in them trembling in fear. The mist on his face smells like pine.

Percy sets Octavian on his feet again, and is just about to pummel him with another tidal wave when a trickle of blood slides down his forehead. The water falls from Percy’s grip and splashes in the dirt. Everything goes completely still, and Octavian sinks to his knees, gasping and trembling. Nico cannot see Percy’s face, but he can see Octavian’s, and the expression is one of pure terror. 

“Wait… I don’t… What are you doing, Jackson? Are you insane? Someone stop him.” 

No one does. The water on the arena begins to move, flowing in a circle around the pitch. Nico feels it behind him, and sees it arc in front, starting to rise, staring to form a cyclone around them, separating them from the rest of the camp. Wind kicks up the flood into a storm, and Nico idly thinks as his vision wavers that this must be what it’s like to get sucked into a whirlpool.

Still, Percy’s voice is clearly audible over the roar of the water.

“Did you hear, Octavian, after you deserted your camp and abandoned your friends, about my trip to Tartarus?”

Percy takes a step forward, and Octavian is frozen on his knees in front of him.

“I learned some things while I was there. A few new skills. Very useful in situations like this.”

His voice is calm, collected, and still somehow drowns out the rushing water.

“Would you like to see a demonstration?”

Octavian is shaking is head frantically, scuttling backwards in the dirt.

“Jackson… Percy, please.” 

The horror is written all over his face before he knows why, and Nico can almost feel the look Percy is aiming at him. He’s seen it before, the twisted face that it so much more disturbing on Percy than anyone else because it’s like an eclipse of the sun by a meteor headed straight for you. Octavian should be running. Why isn’t he running?

“Did you know that nearly 70% of a demigod’s body is water, Octavian?”

There’s nowhere to run.

Octavian shakes, his whole body dripping, and looks up at Percy with confusion and fear. Percy raises both hands in front of him, fingers extended towards the man cowering on the ground at his feet. 

“Because I do.”

Octavian’s body freezes. Nico sees the trembling of fear become a shaking of strain, of every muscle in his body suddenly coming under Percy’s control. He is twitching and jerking around, and it’s grotesque and vaguely fascinating to Nico at the same time that might have something to do with blood loss. Annabeth’s arms around him shake more and she cries.

“Percy! Please, you have to stop!” 

Percy ignores her, doesn’t even flinch as he watches Octavian writhe, grinning.

“You should have killed me first.”

Octavian’s body lifts like a puppet off the ground, legs and arms bent at odd angles and quivering. Percy’s fingers clench, and Octavian’s head snaps back and to the side, almost seizing. His pale skin is reddening, the veins in his neck and forehead are bulging, and Nico sees it. Just a tiny hint of red below his right nostril. 

“Percy,” Annabeth cries, “No. Please.” Her voice is a sob, too quiet for anyone but Nico to hear. She’s giving up. She isn’t going to try to stop him. There’s nothing she can do and she knows it. 

Nico gasps for air. He touches his side and his fingers are wet and sticky.

“Annabeth. I can… I can stop him.”

He can just see Annabeth shake her head out of the corner of his eye.

“You can’t move, you’ll bleed too much. We have to wait… until someone comes to help.”

Octavian’s face grows darker. The blood from his nose spreads across his face in the wind.

“No, the water, the whirlpool… no one… is coming. He’ll… Percy, he’ll kill him, Annabeth,” Nico gasps, struggling to get up, “H-He’s going to kill him, the whole camp is going… going to see, and he’ll never forgive himself. I have to… have to stop him.”

Nico sits forward and his side screams as the arrowhead presses into new flesh. Annabeth is crying as she helps him up. Every motion sends new waves of pain, and Nico can feel the wetness spreading further under his shirt. His hand comes away drenched in red.

“You have… have to break it, Annabeth.”

He grips the shaft of the arrow firmly right against his skin, and his teeth embed in his lip. Her hands pull away from him but she hesitates, so Nico grabs her hand and folds her fingers around the arrow shaft. 

“He’s… Percy won’t… exist anymore.”

She sobs and grabs the arrow just above his hand, twisting her wrist. Nico hears the snap but mostly he just hears his strangled yell. Annabeth is crying, and he wants to turn and reassure her but he can’t, he can’t take the chance of turning back. Instead he rolls forward, pushing up to his hands and knees. One leg under, then two. Standing is agony. He takes one stumbling step forward and calls out to Percy.

“Percy! Percy, listen to me.”

His voice is hoarse and barely a whisper, Percy shows no signs of having heard him. Nico can see Octavian’s eyes, wide with fear and with distinct bruising around the whites. A fleck of red appears in one corner. His skin is mottled purple turning black. 

Nico takes another step forward. Percy is only 10 feet away from him, but it’s too far, the wind and the rain are pushing him back and he isn’t going to make it. Each movement jostles the arrowhead in his muscle and Nico can feel blood seeping faster.

“Percy. You don’t want to kill him. You have to stop.” 

There is a noise from Octavian’s throat that Nico will never forget, and it seems like Percy pulled it out of him. A strangled moan forced out by too much pressure. The indents between his teeth are red. There are rivulets of blood flowing from the corners of his eyes, which are wide and horrific and bulging just slightly against the sockets.

Maybe this is just a nightmare.

The strain of being upright is forcing the blood out around the stump of the arrow in Nico’s side. He sees a few flecks make it to the dirt by his feet. He’s so tired, too tired to stand or to talk, to fight against the maelstrom or to keep Percy from doing something that he’ll never recover from as long as he lives. Percy Jackson, the actual Percy Jackson will die right now and Nico will have failed to save him.

Nico extends one arm and grips with his mind, wrapping invisible fingers around Percy’s skeleton. He can’t focus enough to get a good grip. Immediately, he feels the same fingers in his veins, pushing him away, threading through his blood and freezing him. Percy is resisting, and Nico knows right now he cannot beat him in this fight. His side burns, the liquid is seeping down his leg and to the ground now. The grip on his blood is increasing the flow and it hurts too much.

Nico’s temples throb, but the normal cloud that sets on his mind when he uses his powers is punctate with bursts of pain and flashes of light behind his eyes. Percy told Nico once that his powers took too much out of him. This is worse. He feels the buzz in his ears that normally tells him when death is near, but there are too many candidates to know whose it is.

Octavian groans again, the most wretched noise that gurgles in his throat. His face is streaked with red from his eyes, nose, and mouth, spreading over his skin in broad streams pushed across by the wind. His ears are bleeding. His whole body vibrates like it is about to explode, like his blood is about to boil through his skin. Nico realizes the water splashing on his extended arm is stained pink.

"Percy, stop.” Nico walks forward, still fighting the grip and trying to break Percy’s focus. It’s like trying to walk through lead, being pulled into quicksand. Nico knows what it feels like to be close to death. There is no long tunnel with white light, no feeling of your soul flying over your body, no peace. No, death is a trap to fall into, to be pulled under by the earth itself. Nico feels himself sinking. It’s coming.

He makes it to Percy’s side, and the hand searching for his bones finds his neck and holds, pulling Percy’s face to his. There is a fleck of recognition in Percy’s eyes, and for one second he stops fighting back.

“Please.”

With every last bit of strength that he has Nico breaks Percy’s loosened hold on him, and then throws his whole mind against Percy’s and knocks him off his feet. Octavian drops, the storm around the arena calms, but Nico can’t look. He feels a gush from his side, like a tear releasing a flood, and collapses next to Percy on the ground.

He opens his eyes one more time, and Percy is leaning over him, skin drenched and flecked with blood. He can faintly hear feet running towards them in the distance, but it might as well be hours away, across the ocean. He’s so warm and he’s been awake and exhausted for so long. It must be time to sleep by now. Just curl up and stay that way. The weight pulling him down gets heavier. Surely he’s fought long enough.

“Nico… Nico, hang on. I’m so sorry, just, please, stay with me. Look at me.”

“It’s… okay,” Nico rasps, and his mouth feels sticky and too full of spit or some liquid squishing between his teeth. “It… is better. This is easier." 

“Shut up. Nico, shut up. Don’t give up. Don’t you dare.”

Nico raises one hand to Percy’s face, arm made of lead, and his hand is bruised and bloody against the cheek underneath it. It can’t be his hand, Nico thinks. It feels like it isn’t attached. Pins and needles. Cold. People are crowding around them now, but Nico can’t really see them. His vision is narrowing.

“Percy, I…. “ but his voice is failing. What is he trying to say? Nothing. Couldn’t have been important. It can wait. The pull is stronger.

Everything is warm. It doesn’t even really hurt now, just feels fuzzy and Nico can’t tell where his body is and where it isn’t. He keeps staring at Percy, or the sun. It’s just like waking up with Percy in the morning. He smiles faintly. Waking up with Percy must be really nice. 

But it’s too bright to tell who is who anymore, and it hurts his eyes so he closes them and the yelling in his ears fades away.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

The waiting room is empty, which strikes Nico as kind of odd. Every other time he’s been here it’s been full to the brim with people waiting for someone to pay their fare, but now it’s just him, alone with nothing but the sound of Muzak through the tinny speakers for company.

They really need to rethink this music.

He walks through the lobby, plush carpet soft under his sneakers. He wonders if he gets to keep his converse in the afterlife. The rest of his clothes could use a wash – he’d rather not spend the rest of eternity in a white t-shirt covered in his own blood. Very poetic and all, but it’s going to draw some stares. 

The floor changes to marble tiles as he approaches the front desk, the sound of footsteps reverberating through the empty room. The counter looks dusty in the low light, and without the usual line of the deceased, Nico walks right up to it. He actually chuckles to himself, remembering the argument he overhead on his last trip through. Someone had been very upset that the land of the dead doesn’t take Discover.

“Wow, Charon, you know you didn’t have to clear the place out, just for me. I hope you didn’t go through much trouble.”

Come to think of it, Nico realizes he doesn’t have any money. Maybe they can make an exception. He doesn’t usually play this card (because there’s nowhere to play it) but he is the son of Death after all. Surely there must be some kind of family discount. 

“Oh don’t worry, Mr. di Angelo. I assure you I didn’t.”

Charon has appeared behind the counter, and Nico swears he didn’t see him walk up. The slimy ferryman surveys Nico for a moment before suddenly giving an annoyed huff.

“Oh, you’re flickering again. Can’t even die properly. Here.”

He leans over and hits Nico on the side of the head. Nico is ready to be indignant, but it doesn’t hurt. The hand just makes a hollow thwack sound against his ear, like when you hit the side of the TV to make the picture better.

“What’s going on? Where is everyone?”

Charon smirks, “Wrong question, Mr. di Angelo. Everyone is right here. The question is, where are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, Nico,” Charon shakes his head, “Always so ready for death, ever so slightly disappointed when it does not come. You didn’t even notice, did you? So unsurprised to be here that you didn’t even check if you actually were or not.”

Nico frowns, looking around. He certainly seems to be in the waiting room for the Styx ferry. He’s walked through it often enough on trips to see his father. Never as a customer, but why should it look any different?

“Not at the room, Nico. At yourself.”

Nico looks down and finally sees what Charon means. His body is transparent. There’s a light static over his skin, and parts of the image are flickering in and out of existence. He looks like a ghost on a channel with shoddy reception.

“What is this? What’s going on?”

“Bad connection,” Charon drawls, looking bored and maybe a little disappointed, “They’re trying to resuscitate you.”

“Wait – so I’m not dead?”

“You’re not not dead. Your heart stopped but your brain seems to be getting oxygen anyway. It seems someone would like to keep you around, the gods only know what for.” 

Nico feels his heart jump a little, which is weird because he’s pretty sure in this place he doesn’t really have one. That’s not how the afterlife works. You can’t bring your body with you; only your soul makes the trip. This image, it’s just a memory. So why can he feel his heart moving? 

“I see,” he says finally, though he isn’t sure that he does, “Well, how long until we know how this ends?” 

“That, Mr. di Angelo, is up to you. You have to want them to succeed or there is no chance and they’re wasting their time on a corpse. Not that the same thing couldn’t have been said of their efforts while you were living.” 

“What do you mean, I have to choose to die?”

“Or to live. It isn’t so shocking. Most things are a choice at some level. You were always going to have more say in your own death than most by virtue of your birthright. The converse is that you also have more say in your life, though you wouldn’t know it from how you behave. So, make up your mind, and then we will see how this ends. But make no mistake, it is very hard to bring someone back to life who wants to stay dead.” 

Nico doesn’t respond. His soul is stuck between his body and this place.  Someone is trying to keep his heart going, and that is keeping him in limbo until he makes the call. He’s been ready to die, expecting it really, for as long as he can remember – fighting in a constant war kept the possibility on the table and he always accepted it as a fast-approaching inevitability. What he didn’t expect is to have any say in the matter.

Charon observes him over his long fingers, and after a long silence, finally speaks.

“Some words of advice, if I may, Mr. di Angelo.”

Nico turns to him and watches as Charon stands upright and puts his hands in his pockets. It makes him look more like a normal guy than the morbid ferryman Nico is used to. Nico mirrors his pose and waits as Charon fixes him with a penetrating stare.

“Death is inevitable. One day every mortal will cross this threshold. For some it will be their time to go, and for some it will not. Life, however, is not a given. Now, you can choose to stay here, to come with me now, because you know you’ll have to someday and why not just get it over with? Or, you can go back, and know that this place will always be here, waiting for you. You’re never going to miss this boat. What might you miss if you do not choose to keep on living?”

Nico cannot respond to the ferryman, but his mind races. He never felt he had much to live for. Now, it seems like he might. But there are no guarantees, no way of knowing what is waiting for him if he goes back. Charon sees his indecision and shrugs.

“There are plenty of men to die, Nico. Don’t jump your turn.”

And just like that, Nico’s mind is made up. He already regrets this decision, but then again, he’s never been one to pass on hopeless fights and lost causes.

He groans, “This is going to hurt, isn’t it.”

Charon’s grin turns feral and the oily immortal is back.  Nico honestly doesn’t know where all this sagely wisdom is coming from because last he checked, he and Charon weren’t exactly on the best terms. A few too many practical jokes about being King of the Ferries….

“Oh, very much. I’m already looking forward to it.”

Nico raises his arm and sees the flickering increase. More and more of him is vanishing.

Charon wiggles his fingers in a dismissive wave.

“Good bye, Mr. di Angelo. Until next time.”

And suddenly Nico is rushing upwards and everything is black.

  

Nico is awake long before he opens his eyes. This was a horrible choice. His whole body is one massive ache.  There is more pain than boy at this point. Somewhere under the throbbing he can feel warm light on his face. Whatever he’s lying on is very soft and fluffy. So, not the arena pitch then. A bed, but not his. Too much sunlight for his cabin. Something smells like fresh tomatoes and basil. His mouth tastes like pomegranate Italian soda but it feels like he’s been chewing on gravel.

“Whhhhhy,” he groans, and when a light chuckle answers him his eyes shoot open.

Huge mistake. He’s immediately blind, the sunlight like having a thousand watt spotlight pressed against his retinas. He groans and tries to cover his face but his arms are made of stone and just thinking about moving his muscles sends a whole new wave of hurt over every inch of him.

“Don’t try to move, gods, you’re as bad as Percy.”

He carefully raises his eyelids to peer at the owner of this very pleasant sounding voice and finds Annabeth, sitting in a chair next to the bed with her legs propping up a massive book. When she sees him open his eyes her face breaks into a very careful smile and she closes the tomb, setting it aside. A few bits of parchment flake off but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“Welcome back.”

“How long was I out?”

“Well, you’ve been asleep for 3 days.”

Nico nods reflexively, which makes his temples throb. Annabeth smirks, but despite a clear effort to smile, it falters when she adds,

“Though if we’re talking out out, technically you were dead for 46 seconds." 

“Ahh.” 

Nico frowns. It felt longer than that, that he was actually in Charon’s lobby. He wonders at which point in the conversation he was actually dead. He clears his throat, trying to fight the overwhelming dryness that’s making it hard to talk.

“About that… how am I not dead, exactly?”

Annabeth’s smile is sad now.

“Well, you lost a lot of blood fighting Percy. When you knocked him down you ruptured something… or he did. You were bleeding out. You lost consciousness shortly after that, right around when the healers started to arrive. It was too late, they said your heart had stopped. Percy…”

She looks up at Nico then, and her eyes are wet and red but she looks so proud at the same time.

“Percy saved you. He kept your heart going, made the muscle keep contracting and made the blood keep flowing to your brain. He somehow… stopped the bleeding. Forced the blood back in, and kept the wound closed. I gave breaths while he kept your heart moving. It didn’t seem like it was going to matter, you weren’t responding, but Percy kept going and then your heart just… restarted. It started beating on its own and Percy stopped you from loosing any more blood while the healers gave you as much nectar as we thought you could stand. Percy made you swallow it.”

She shakes her head, looking awestruck, “I don’t know how he did it. He just… put you back together, right in front of us. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

Nico smiles. 

“Well, he’s been practicing.”

It isn’t until silence falls between them that Nico realizes that Percy is not here. He almost asks, but his mind flickers back to the look on Annabeth’s face every time she says Percy’s name, and Nico feels his heart clench. It hurts more than usual with the extensive stress it’s been put through over the past few days. He changes the subject.

“What happened… with Octavian, I mean?”

Annabeth looks disgusted.

“He lived. I have mixed feelings about it. Remains to be seen if he’ll ever be the same though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Percy really did a number on him. The pressure broke a lot of blood vessels and I think his eyesight is damaged, but the stroke is what really did it. It wasn’t a huge one, but he still isn’t talking much and we have to feed him. Will Solace thinks he probably has a few aneurisms but the nectar should be fixing that.”

Nico probably doesn’t feel as bad about this as he should, but then he remembers that it all happened in broad daylight in the middle of camp.

“What do people think happened?”

Annabeth shrugs, “We were fairly lucky here. The cyclone made it pretty hard to see what was going on unless you were in the middle of it. People know Percy attacked him, but they heard what happened to you and no one is too upset about it. They might be giving Percy a wider berth for a while though. The whole camp will be so happy to hear you’re awake." 

Nico kind of doubts this, but he ignores it, because he and Annabeth weren’t the only people to see what really happened.

“What about Jason and the kid… what’s his name, Eric?” 

“Eric isn’t talking. It seems like Octavian got to him a long time ago and once we told him who you really were he was horrified. He’s cooperating, I don’t think he even really understands what happened.”

She pauses and gives Nico a worried look.

“Jason is… more complicated. He isn’t angry with Percy, I don’t think, but he is freaked out. None of us really know what to tell him though. Normally Piper would talk him down but no one wants to explain it to her. We were kind of waiting on you to do it.”

Nico ponders this for a minute. He’s thought a lot, if these abilities that he and Percy discovered were a part of being a child of the Big Three, about what that would mean for Jason. The human nervous system is not so different from electrical wiring, and Nico shudders to think of the possibilities. He’s never mentioned this concern to Jason because his friend, being so upright and in control, might never figure it out on his own and Nico doesn’t want to be the one that planted the idea.

Eventually, Nico nods and says, “Yeah, I’ll talk to him. He’ll be okay. Percy can trust him even if he doesn’t want to admit it.”

“Yeah, well, who does that remind me of?” 

She smiles and Nico sticks his tongue out at her before he realizes what he’s doing. This makes Annabeth burst into laughter and Nico’s face go very red. He changes the subject.

“Did you figure out how Octavian got official sanction to kill me?” 

Annabeth’s face falters and Nico immediately feels like an asshole though he isn’t sure why. He’s about to backpedal when a new voice comes from the door.

“That is my apology to make.”

Reyna walks in, in full legion armor complete with purple cape and gold Praetor laurels. Nico swallows heavily, which hurts a lot. Reyna has always managed to intimidate him in a way no one else could ever seem to achieve. They’ve gotten along well through Nico’s later days at Camp Jupiter and during the war, but there was a bit of a rough start when he showed up on the banks of the Litter Tiber with another child of the Underworld and neither of them were quite who they claimed to be. Reyna is the ultimate leader, completely sacrificing all forms of a personal life to for the sake of her legion and her camp. She is the absolute foundation of Camp Jupiter, and Nico, with his isolationist proclivities and unclear loyalties, always feels like she might have some disdain for his choices. He supposes almost killing himself to move the Athena Parthenos back stateside could’ve made up for some of that, but he tends to be wary of her at best.

“I am very glad to find you back amongst the land of the living, Mr. di Angelo.”

Nico clears his throat nervously.

“Nico is fine. And thank you. It’s good to be back.” 

Annabeth is curled in on herself, knees tucked up to her chest. Reyna’s eyes dart to the side briefly but she remains focused on Nico.

“I have to tell you how truly sorry I am, Nico. It is my fault Octavian got so far with this plan to have you killed.”

Nico immediately starts shaking his head but Reyna holds up a hand to stop any objections. It’s kind of admirable how in control of the conversation she is, even when she’s apologizing.

“That sanction is official, but it is not recent. It was signed while I was away, and Octavian had declared himself acting praetor. It seems, because you were the only person who had known about both camps prior to the exchange of Percy and Jason, that it was fairly easy to drum up support in labeling you as a traitor and the instigator of the conflict. Being a child of Pluto… excuse me, Hades, did not help, and with your only Roman allies all overseas, you were declared an enemy of the state to be killed on site.”

“In New Rome we have no official policy for repealing such a sanction. This is my error. After I returned from the war I saw the extent of the damage Octavian had done, but I overlooked this issue.”

She looks so deeply upset that Nico really wants to tell her its no big deal, but he’s still pretty sure it isn’t his turn to talk.

“Make no mistake, the actual purpose of waiting until now to assassinate you had nothing to do with your position between the camps and everything to do with hurting Percy. Octavian wanted to renew hostilities between the camps with your death and Percy’s inevitable retaliation. Things did not exactly go his way in this regard.”

She frowns, but Nico can’t tell which subject seems to be causing her more anxiety, Octavian’s current health status or the latest drama centered around Percy Jackson. 

“I have convened a senate meeting where we will decide how best to overturn our own decisions so this does not happen again. When you have recovered fully I encourage you to visit and renew your position as ambassador. Again, I cannot tell you how sorry I am for what has happened.” 

Nico waits for complete silence before speaking.

“It’s alright, um, really. No lasting harm done.”

His body disagrees with another wave of ache, but Nico keeps his poker face pretty well. Reyna cracks a very small smile, which softens her face and makes Nico remember that she (mostly) isn’t so scary.

“For what it’s worth, Nico, I have absolute certainty of your loyalties. You would not betray us.”

She gives Annabeth a long look, eyes unreadable, and Annabeth stares back. Nico feels, not for the first time, like he’s missing something. Reyna looks back at him.

“Any of us.”

She tucks her helmet securely under her arm and nods curtly to Nico, placing a more gentle hand on Annabeth’s shoulder which makes her blush violently.

“I’ll be outside. I hope to see you up and about soon, Nico.”

With that, she’s gone in a billow of purple velvet. Annabeth exhales loudly and Nico realizes she was holding her breath. He raises his eyebrows (which also hurts). Annabeth rolls her eyes. 

“Oh, don’t even start.”

And she sticks her tongue out. Nico barks a dry, surprised laugh, and then groans as it jostles his sides. Annabeth grimaces and Nico twitches at the feel of a warm, comforting hand on his leg through the covers.

“Sorry, sorry! No laughing.”

She doesn’t move her hand, and Nico doesn’t want her to. For once, he kind of wants the comforting. He twists carefully, finally managing to raise one arm and push down the blankets to his waist. His shirt is missing (actually, Jason’s shirt… sorry Jason), and there are loose bandages covering his side where the arrow was. He goes to move them and Annabeth bats his hands away. 

“Here, let me.”

Her thin fingers tuck under the dressings and pull them aside gently. Nico shivers, but forgets to be nervous when he sees the wound underneath. It’s almost completely healed, with just angry red skin remaining, but there is going to be a sizeable scar. It seems the arrow tore a bit, probably as it was removed, and there are strange white lines wrapping towards the point of entry down from his ribs and across his stomach.

“Well, that’s attractive.”

Annabeth frowns, “We don’t know exactly why that happened. Percy was holding the tear together, essentially, and I think it took him a few attempts to get the right amount of pressure. It might’ve gotten worse before it got better.”

“It’s okay. A little scarring never hurt anyone. Better than being killed by the biggest prat of all time.” 

Annabeth smiles, “Are you talking about Octavian or Percy?”

Nico just grins back and shakes his head. A long, comfortable silence passes before Annabeth finally speaks.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Nico would’ve bolted upright but she quickly presses him down so he can’t make the mistake of moving.

“What? Why?”

She shakes her head sadly, “I meant what I said, that it was too soon. I’m going back to Camp Jupiter for a while. I think… I think we all need a little more time.” 

Nico sees the defeat in her face, and protests. 

“Annabeth, what happened – it wasn’t your fault. At all.”

She shakes her head, “I gave up on him, Nico. I would’ve let him kill Octavian.”

“What were you supposed to do? He could’ve killed…”

Annabeth’s eyes harden and Nico decides to leave that thought unsaid.

“It wasn’t the first time. Yesterday… and Tartarus… I just froze. You were right, Percy would’ve died, right then and there. A little piece of him died in Tartarus. I was too scared of getting hurt to save him. I just watched and let myself be afraid”

Nico falls silent. He can feel Annabeth’s hand on his leg trembling.

“Percy saved you because you believed he could do it, Nico. Because you told him so. He told me everything that happened while I was gone.” Nico blushes profusely but Annabeth is barely looking at him. “You showed him how he could help just as much as hurt. I just stepped aside and let him fall apart.”

Her eyes are watering, and Nico sees Annabeth steel herself against the world, straightening her back and forcing a smile. It looks a lot like what Percy does when he’s scared.

“If Percy makes it through this, it’ll be because of you, Nico. I’ll be still be here, after, if he still wants me.”

“Annabeth,” Nico finds his voice, though it cracks, “Percy will always want you.” 

Annabeth’s smile becomes more genuine as the sadness creeps through.

“We’ll see.”

Nico resists the overwhelming urge to ask her, to beg her, to stay, which he finds himself wanting badly. He bites down the impulse and the resulting confusion and finally asks what he’s been holding in all along, because he can’t take it anymore. 

“Where is Percy?” 

Annabeth deflates even more. Nico’s never wanted to hug someone so badly before and now he can’t.

“He was here. The whole time, he refused to leave this room. But when you started to show signs of waking up, he asked me to stay with you and he left. He’s around camp, but he won’t talk to anyone. He needs to know you’re awake but… I don’t know what’s going through his head. He needs you, but I want you to heal first. He might take some convincing.” 

Nico was already trying to get up when she gently held him still again. At least one of them is looking out for his own best interest.

“I’ll tell him. He won’t… I mean, you’re going to have to go find him, I think. He’s pretty angry with himself. He’s probably decided to be noble and avoid you for the rest of his life. It’s likely he’s convinced himself that you’re better off without him. Which you might be.” 

Nico lets his head fall back against the pillow, shaking his head as he looks at the wooden ceiling.

“No.”

He hears Annabeth’s light chuckle.

“Well, he’s very lucky you feel that way. We all are.”

He looks up when the pressure of her hand lifts, and sees that she’s standing.

“Are you going?”

She nods, “I’ll stop by before I head back west. You should be up and about by tomorrow, though I think I should get out of dodge before then. Before I do something stupid.” 

Nico frowns, “Stupid? Like what?”

Annabeth leans down and very quickly presses her mouth to his. Nico freezes. Her lips are incredibly soft, and she tastes like mint and Chap Stick. He feels his eyes close, his body relax a little, and his mouth apply a little pressure of its own accord. A ringlet of her hair is tickling his cheek and she smells like parchment. He feels warm. It’s not at all like being with Percy and feeling like he’s trapped at the center of a forest fire. More like he’s lying in the grass, watching the clouds and feeling the sun on his face. 

He needs to do that more often.

Annabeth pulls back, and Nico realized the whole kiss probably lasted about 10 seconds. He feels like it may have been an important 10 seconds. She’s smiling at him, and it’s soft and hesitant and completely beautiful.

It takes Nico longer than the duration of the kiss to find his voice again. 

“That… that, uh, wasn’t stupid.”

Annabeth laughs, “Maybe not. I just, I know Percy is the only person in the world for you, and I don’t know how to say what I want to, which is a feeling I really dislike. So just… thank you. I’ll be seeing you, Nico.”

“Right. Yes. You better.”

Nico blushes because it kind of sounds like he’s drunk. Annabeth rolls her eyes, gives him one more quick kiss to seal in the confusion, and floats out the door, shutting it gently behind her.

 

Chapter Text

Nico would like to say he went straight to Percy, but he didn’t.

After a night of fitful sleep (and a vague recollection of Annabeth coming in during the early hours of the morning to kiss him goodbye… what), he feels even less like leaving the fluffy confines of the bed than he did the day before. Then half the Apollo cabin turns up under the pretenses of taking care of him, and Nico decides whatever is waiting for him outside cannot possibly be as irritating as being waited on by a bunch of mooning 11-year-olds asking if they can hold is sword and if he can really reanimate the dead. So, he slips out when they leave him unsupervised, ignoring his still aching muscles and exhausted mind.

After managing to convince a nymph to give him some food outside of mealtime, Nico settles in by the campfire. It’s broad daylight, but no one is really around to bother him as he finds himself oddly famished. Nectar and ambrosia are great and all, but they only taste like real food. Not overly nutritious. What he really needs, Nico thinks as he tears into some bread, is a cheeseburger. Oh well.

“You didn’t think to maybe tell me you were up and about, did you?”

Nico smiles, looking sideways over his shoulder. 

“Jason, it’s only been an hour. You were next on the list, right after food.”

Jason sits next to him on the log, smiling.

“Can’t argue with those priorities. How’re you feeling?”

“Like a million drachma. You?”

Jason shrugs, “Oh, not bad, not bad. Other than seeing one of my close friends rip a man to shreds with one hand and save your life with the other, it’s been a pretty slow week.”

Nico grimaces, but Jason doesn’t look angry, only a little overwhelmed. Nico waits until Jason turns to face him. There’s a small smile on his friend’s face. 

“Nothing like this ever happened at Camp Jupiter. Are you Greeks always so dramatic?”

Nico barks out a laugh that surprises him.

“Well, I’m not around very much, but in my limited experience I’d say we’re usually worse.”

“Almost definitely. Anyway, the love triangle does add a touch of color to the landscape.”

Nico blushes and looks at his shoes.

“Annabeth left this morning.” 

“I know, to go back west with Reyna. You don’t look too happy about it.” 

He shrugs, but Jason is right, he isn’t. So, he changes the subject.

“Look, Jason, about what happened in the arena…”

Jason cuts him off.

“Do I need to know?”

Nico’s mouth snaps shut. He’d been trying to think of a way to keep the truth from Jason, to protect him from that knowledge, but the only conclusion he’d been able to reach was that if he’d just been honest from the beginning, all of this might’ve been avoided. If he’d just told Percy of his theory when it first occurred to him years ago, then there would’ve been time, Percy could’ve figured out how to control it before Tartarus blew the lid off his sanity. Even ignoring the near homicide, Percy might not feel like such a monster, and Annabeth might still be around…

“Yeah, I think you do.”

Jason nods, and claps Nico gently on the shoulder.

“Alright. Well, we can talk about it, but not now. I’m glad to see you on the mend, but there’s someone else who needs to see it more, and I think you’re avoiding him.”

Nico sputters, “I’ve only been up for an hour!”

Jason scoffs, “Oh, so right after this you were going to go find him, then?”

Nico glowers, “You’re very eager to throw me back in to the hurricane, Grace.”

Jason sobers, shaking his head, “I’m not, but don’t you start pretending to be afraid of him now. Not after that stunt you pulled.”

There’s a long silence where Nico just lets his mind race. Honestly, he is afraid of Percy. Not of his power, or of getting hurt, but of what Nico suspects is coming. He isn’t sure he can take it, isn’t sure he’ll be able to stand his ground against the onslaught. 

Jason fixes him with a long stare.

“Look, Nico, Percy is my friend. You will always come first, and I’ll be honest, when I saw you unconscious and half-dead, he was near the top of my list of people to blame. But I’ve seen him, the look on his face, the past few days, and I can’t… I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. If he hurts you I’ll liberate his head from his shoulders, but he needs you, Nico. I don’t think anyone else can fix this.” 

Nico drops his head to his hands. He can see Percy’s face clearly in his mind, but it’s going to be so much worse this time.

“He’s going to push me away,” Nico groans.

“Yeah, almost definitely. Still, my money is on you in this fight. Always has been.”

Jason stands, and Nico straightens up, pushing the hair from his face and trying not to look so pathetic. Jason extends a hand and Nico allows himself to be pulled upright.

“You know what you’re doing?”

Nico nods. Jason’s brown furrows.

“Honestly, you’re going to have to find him first. I haven’t seen him at all today.”

Nico’s eyes dart towards the forest.

“Yeah, I think finding him is going to be the easy part.”

 

Nico stumbles over yet another fallen branch of curses himself. He knows where Percy is, sure, but he definitely isn’t up for shadow traveling and walking a mile through dense woods right after being shot isn’t nearly as easy as he’d hoped. Confronting Percy already out of breath and with leaves in his hair isn’t exactly how Nico envisioned this going. Plus, he’s had a nice long walk in the woods to do nothing but panic.

As suddenly as it always does, the forest breaks into a broad meadow. Nico almost laughs. It’s a beautiful day, with blue skies and beaming sun casting a warm, cheery light over the clearing. There are even birds singing. Actual fucking birds. Just the perfect atmosphere for a shouting match. Nico is still so hoarse, he’s not sure anyone will be able to hear him over all this maddeningly cheerful birdsong.

At first glance, the meadow is empty, and Nico thinks he might’ve been wrong about Percy’s “hiding” place. The light wind rustles an unbroken sea of glasses and white flowers, bending them in random waves. No… not random, Nico realizes. Not random at all. The grass rises and falls evenly, with perfect regularity, in a broad arc across the meadow. It seems to be radiating from somewhere, and Nico lets his eyes follow the rings inwards like you might do with a ripple in a lake, looking for the place where the pebble splashed through the surface.

The pebble in the meadow is actually the old oak log off to the right side… or rather, the person who’s sitting with his back to it, facing the far edge of the forest. Nico can see him so clearly now it’s hard to imagine how he missed him in the first place. He’s just close enough to see the rise and fall of his shoulders, and Nico can match the movement of breaths with the motion of the entire meadow, from the blades of grass to the leaves of the trees.

Nico freezes. It shouldn’t still be surprising, how the rest of the world falls away when Percy is around. How the events of the morning, of the week, from his concern over his talk with Jason to his confusing interactions with Annabeth, disappear instantly, never even mattered to begin with. It’s just Percy, and with every inhale Nico feels himself being pulled a little closer. Somehow, Percy’s next inhale pulls the only thought in Nico’s mind out of his mouth.

“Percy.”

Percy doesn’t jump, so Nico figures he must’ve known someone was standing behind him. The grass does flutter irregularly before resuming its rhythm maybe just a touch faster than before. Nico is panicking again. He doesn’t have a plan, doesn’t know what to say. Whatever grand speech was in his head is gone now, if it ever existed at all. He just wants to rush over to him and touch, like he would if it were one week before and it were just the two of them in the meadow. Now, there’s the giant elephant of his near-to-actual-death-experience in the field with them, and as Percy slowly stands and turns, Nico realizes there might be a mile-wide ravine between them for how rooted he is to its imaginary edge.

Percy shoves his hands in his pockets and the way he is mirroring Nico’s stance makes him look a lot smaller and more timid than normal. In many ways he is the splitting image of how Nico always pictures him, and if it weren’t for the fact that he is refusing to make eye contact, Nico would’ve gotten his hopes up about everything going back to normal. Percy speaks, but it’s a mumble.

“Nico, hey. You’re up.”

The panic is reaching a terminal level, because this is so awkward that Nico thinks he may be forced to run, just to get away from the feeling.

“Yeah, since this morning. I’ve been awake since yesterday, though." 

“Right. They, uh, Annabeth mentioned it. On her way out.”

Nico twitches at Annabeth’s name, which is weird because Percy doesn’t react at all, and he still won’t look at him.

In an act of desperation, Nico resorts to his usual tactic – baiting Percy for a response.

“Yeah, she was there when I woke up. Would’ve been nice to see you, too.”

A muscle in Percy’s jaw twitches, and Nico is hopeful, but then Percy’s face falls back to cold neutral and Nico wants to scream in frustration. 

“I didn’t want to… get in the way. How’re you feeling?” 

Nico’s next words are so dry they almost crack and drift away in the rippling grass.

“I’ll live, thanks to you.”

This surprisingly turns out to be the bait Nico needed. Percy’s head snaps up, eyes boring into his. 

“Don’t thank me.”

“You saved my life, I’m not allowed to thank you?”

Percy cuts him off.

“Doesn’t count as saving you if I was my fault in the first place.”

“It was Octavian’s fault!” Nico shouts, but Percy doesn’t seem to hear him.

“Never would’ve even happened if-“ 

“Don’t.” Nico holds up a hand, shaking his head. “Please don’t do this.”

Percy opens his mouth as if to continue, but then abruptly closes it and looks at his shoes. 

“I… fine. Fine.”

Just as Nico decides he’s about 200% done with this conversation, Percy takes a deep breath and marches over to him. All the meadow bends towards him as he walks, and Nico feels the sudden urge to run. Percy’s face… it’s a mask, and the lack of expression is so unnatural on him that it’s like he isn’t even the same person. Nico feels like he’s meeting an opponent on the battlefield, instead of watching the guy he’s in love with come to him like he’s wished he would since forever.

A long silence passes while Nico waits for Percy’s next words. He’s been waiting for them since he regained consciousness, since he talked to Annabeth, since he saw the look on Jason’s face when he said Percy’s name. Percy raises one hand, like he’s going to touch Nico, and Nico feels his heart take off before it even happens. His heart racing makes his side ache, and he really hopes he’s not bleeding again. Just around the edges, he can feel the slight pressure, and he realizes Percy is listening to his vital signs, feeling his heartbeat, just like before. For half a second, Nico is hopeful.

When Percy looks up, that hope dies immediately, because his face just confirms what Nico had expected, what had kept him hiding in that bed for the past 24 hours. Nico catches himself wondering just when this whole crazy situation became so very… predictable.

“Listen, N-Nico…” Nico scoffs when Percy stutters on his name. “I don’t know if I can… I think it might be good if-“

“Let me guess,” Nico spits, unable to wait, “Might be good if we didn’t see each other for a while?”

Percy grimaces, but nods, “Um, yeah. It’s just, this just paints an even bigger target on our backs, you know? And I can’t… I’ll just hurt you… again.”

Nico really wants to point out that this is the worst hurt Percy could put him through, but he doesn’t. The whole field breathes in and out, and the part of Nico’s brain that isn’t shattering notices that it’s a nice effect. Nico breathes deeply with it, trying to force the quiver out of his voice. He had this coming, there’s no point in getting upset. There was only one way this was going to end. 

“Right. Of course. It’d be better for everyone if we took some distance. I was planning on getting out of camp for a while, anyway.”

He forces himself to look Percy in the eye, to stare him down as he throws the first shovel of dirt into the grave of this whole ordeal. Percy’s face remains horribly blank, and Nico has to look away, to turn around and walk out of that clearing right now, before he implodes.

It’s just as the endless forest replaces Percy in his eyes that Nico hears it.

“Of course you were.”

He should ignore it. He should stick with the plan, the one he just made up and now wants to follow so badly he can feel it in his toes. He should get as far away as possibly, and then farther, back to whatever he was doing before he let himself get dragged into this mess in the first place. His feet should already be moving.

Except, they’re tired. Nico is tired. Ever since he came back, since he kissed Percy that first time and every last time after that, he’s just been so damn tired of running.

Nico whirls around, “What?”

Percy looks surprised that he’s still here, and Nico can’t blame him.

“Nothing. Go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. What did you say?”

Percy’s face is reddening, and Nico realizes maybe this was the problem all along. Maybe Percy didn’t push him away because he felt guilty. Maybe he pushed Nico away because he felt angry.

“Well, that’s a first, anyway.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind. Just go.”

Nico storms back across the meadow, right up to Percy, the closest he’s gotten all morning.

“Oh like hell I’m going anywhere now, not when it seems like you’ve got something you want to say.”

Maybe it’s the proximity that does it. Maybe it was just long overdue.

“I mean, what was the point, Nico?” Percy asks, and from this close Nico can see how defeated he looks. “Why even bother if you were just going to give up?”

“Give up? What are you talking about?” But there’s a memory, just flickering on the edge of his mind. Right before he went under, right before he bled out on the dusty ground of the arena. 

“’It’s okay, Percy’?” Percy reminds him, voice strained, “’It is better’? ‘This is easier’?!”

Nico doesn’t say anything. There’s no defense, and Percy knows it.

“I mean, are you fucking kidding me? That’s what you went with? ‘Sure, Percy, I’ll just jump in front of this stupid arrow for you, and then I’ll just give up and let you live with that guilt for the rest of your life.’” 

“It’s not my fault I was dying!”

“You almost died to save Octavian? Who tried to have you killed? And then you just quit? That was going to be your final act?!”

“I almost died to stop you from destroying yourself!”

“YOU SHOULD’VE LET ME!” Percy roars, but the look on his face is tormented, “It doesn’t matter what I almost did! You should’ve let me rip his eyes out in front of whole camp, crush him until all his blood was in the dirt. But you didn’t! You saved me and then you gave up! I watched you, watched all the fight go right out of your eyes. I can’t… you just… you aren’t allowed to give up!”

“You would’ve been fine-“

“WHY DO YOU THINK THAT?”

The whole meadow rustles, on the edge of combustion. Nico holds up his hands, ready to talk Percy off the ledge, but Percy seems barely cognizant of where he is or what’s going on anymore. 

“How do you still think that?” he yells, gripping his hair in frustration, “That I would be fine without you? That you are worth any less than… Is it because you would be? What would you do, if I died? Would you be fine?”

There is no need to even think about it.

“I would die.”

“So why do you still think I’d be just fine without you?”

Nico hears Percy’s voice break, and catches his eye to see the barely constrained tears finally begin to escape. There’s something profoundly bizarre about seeing Percy cry. It’s only ever one or two tears, and he’s always quick to brush them away in embarrassment, but Nico kind of needs to see it. Not because there’s anything beautiful about crying – poetry is bullshit and Nico actually kind of hates it – but because the tears make the curtain fall, take this whole mess from being a dream Nico made up in his head to reality, and make what Percy is saying the only truth that matters. Nico hates that this is what it took for him to realize it.

“Percy… I’m sorry.”

Percy groans, “For gods’ sake, don’t… just don’t. How can I be angry with you? What kind of person does that make me? It’s just… I need you. I need you and…”

His shoulders slump and he sighs.

“I need you and it terrifies me because you aren’t the kind of person I want to need, Nico.” 

The birds aren’t singing anymore. The grass isn’t moving and the rustle of the leaves has gone silent. Nico realizes Percy must be holding his breath. He probably thinks Nico is about to start yelling at him, or vanish, or both. Nico actually finds himself resisting the urge to smile.

“I know. To be fair, you aren’t exactly the kind of guy I want to need either, Percy.”

Percy looks confused and Nico actually does feel a small smile slip onto his face. 

“I’ve just… I’ve loved you for so long, and you were just this impossible, painful dream. The most unavailable person in the world, and it wasn’t even just because of Annabeth-“

“I asked her to go,” Percy blurts out, but then thinks better of his words, “I mean, we talked about it. Before you got hurt, we agreed. She was never staying, Nico. I tried to tell you, before… I chose you-“ 

This just makes Nico want to downright laugh, but he buries it with a wave of his hand, “There was just never any universe where I was going to win so I… I just ran. I ran away, and I didn’t look back, and if I had, if I’d stuck around…”

He frowns, thinking of his talk with Jason, of what he has to say, of what he should have said years ago. Another time. When he looks up, Percy’s eyes are fixed on his. He just lets himself stare back.

“I ended up getting a choice, Percy. To go on or to come back. That person, who runs, who is afraid to love you, that isn’t who I am. I chose to come back, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Percy visibly exhales, and Nico indulges in the way the entire meadow bends around him. Indulges in it as he closes the distance between them and frames Percy’s face in his hands. Percy shudders and Nico feels strong hands close around his wrists and hold on.

“Stay,” he pleads, or commands, Nico can’t tell and it doesn’t matter.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Percy deflates, like all of reality just got dropped on his shoulders.

“You… you almost died. Fuck, you almost-“

“You wouldn’t have let me,” Nico interrupts, putting a stop to the panicking, because talking isn’t going to help anymore right now and he’s ready for the making up stage of things. He smiles again, “And here I thought I was the one who could raise the dead.”

Percy manages to snort and glare at him at the same time.

“That was terrible. We were being all serious and you picked right now to have a sense of humor.”

“It’s a little rusty. I think we probably should be a little less serious.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“Don’t make me.”

Percy groans but Nico is too occupied half-laughing to notice.

“For gods’ sake, are you really making jokes about this? Out of everything, this is the thing you decide is funny?”

“Maybe.” Percy’s hands slide down Nico’s arms and wrap around his waist, still holding on.

“Hey, speaking of your highly comical powers, how’re you feeling? Under control?” 

Percy drops his head to Nico’s neck, and Nico feels like a warm, heavy blanket just fell over him.

“Just fine." 

“Wait, I can feel… Is that you?”

“Yeah. I could probably tell you where every cell in every vein is right now if we had a million years.”

“You’ve um,” Nico stutters, because the feeling is less soothing like a blanket and more maddening like Percy is touching him everywhere, and a million years of that sounds like exactly not enough, “You’ve gotten better at this.”

“I felt you bleed to death,” Percy whispers. His voice shakes, but he keeps it even, “I felt your heart stop. I know where the line is with you. It’s burned into my brain. I’ll never forget how much is too much.”

And because he can’t take it anymore, because he’s been waiting to since he chose not to die, chose to gamble on the most unavailable guy in the world, chose to stay, Nico pulls Percy’s face to his and kisses him. He doesn’t wait for Percy to respond and he doesn’t have to, he’s stepped back into the storm and he never wants to leave. Percy pulls him closer immediately, fingers slipping under his shirt to burn patterns into his skin, and Nico arches forward, holding on that much tighter, opening the mouth under his with his tongue.

Percy groans, pulls him in, but he’s careful to avoid the bandages. Nico doesn’t want careful. He threads his fingers through Percy’s and pulls, and they’re tumbling into the grass, and Percy is actually laughing. Nico grins into the kiss and admits,

“Sorry, standing was getting exhausting.”

He carefully fits his legs between Percy’s and swallows the resulting curse. A million years of this will never be enough, because this is winning, this is triumph. He will never leave his feeling. Nico is in the only place in the world he wants to be, is wrapped around him, can feel every inch of him and it’s amazing.

“Nico… shit, you’re still… gods,” Percy manages to grit out as Nico slides his mouth down to his neck, hands shaking, “We should take it slow…”

But even as he says it he’s dragging Nico’s face back to his, holding him in place so he can kiss him. Nico smiles,

“Alright, alright. We’ve got time.”

The words seem to be enough to destroy most of Percy’s resolve, because for the two of them, there’s never been any prospect so amazing as having time.

When they break apart again, it’s so Percy can mumble into the skin of Nico’s collarbone.

“I know you have to leave, sometimes. I get it, you’re off doing whatever it is you do in the Underworld, which I assume is pretty important. That’s okay, that you have to go. Just come back.”

Nico just smiles, propping himself up on one elbow and threading his other hand through Percy’s hair. 

“Yeah, I will, but… you could always just come with me?”

Percy’s blinding smile, the one like staring into the sun, well, if Nico needs something worth living for, he’s found it.

“Absolutely.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

 

Nico doesn’t realize he’s nodded off until Percy’s groan wakes him. 

He blinks, bleary-eyed, the achievement of REM cycles still enough of a novelty that Nico hasn’t quite figured out how to snap out of one. In the first few minutes after he’s woken up, he’s almost completely useless. Percy apparently finds it hilarious, and goes out of his way to ask just-woken-up Nico embarrassing questions that he can’t help but answer. Nico is more than ready to get better at this whole sleeping thing, because surely it can’t be like this every time? 

A solid body next to his twitches violently, and Nico’s brain gets slightly more in gear. Percy, right. He reaches out in the dark, finding a tense shoulder.

“Percy.”

The shoulder shrugs him off, and Percy groans again, slightly louder. Nico’s eyes start to adjust, and he can see Percy’s face through the din, can see the deep crease between his eyebrows. Nico hesitates. He doesn’t know what Percy’s dreaming about, but maybe if he waits, it’ll pass, and there’ll be no need to wake Percy from the sleep he’s more than earned over the past few days. 

“No…” sounds in a desperate moan beside him.

Or not. Nico wishes there was a gentler way to do this, but even in the throes of a nightmare, Percy’s a heavy sleeper, and can only be persuaded to do otherwise through use of some force. Nico grips his shoulder more firmly, and shakes.

“Percy!” Nico says, louder than he’d like, because he’s pretty sure nothing’s going to sneak up on them, but he isn’t about to start advertising their presence if he can help it. 

“Nico!... Wha- Nico?” Percy’s eyes snap open, head flying off his bedroll. Nico barely avoids a head-on-head collision. He’s leaning back over Percy in a second, hands on the sides of his face, holding him steady. 

“Yes, I’m here, I’m fine, just breathe.”

Nico’s really got the routine down, because Percy only manages to hyperventilate for a second or two before trying to follow Nico’s instructions and take a deep, heaving breath. Then another, and another, until his eyes clench shut and frustration takes the place of panic on his face. Biting the inside of his check and keeps his hands on Percy’s face, Nico privately wonders if he could be any more useless to Percy in times like these.

“Sorry- I’m sorry,” Percy rasps out, leaning into Nico’s hands even as he avoids eye contact. Nico cuts him off.

“Stop. Just stop, alright? This isn’t your fault.”

The words sound old and recycled in his ears. Percy makes an angry noise and Nico feels the tingle in his fingertips, of Percy checking his pulse. Warmth rushes through him, unbidden, because this isn’t really the time, but that feeling is like an ‘on’ switch for Nico these days. The knowledge that the first thing Percy does when he wakes up from a nightmare is check to make sure Nico’s heart is still beating.

The nightmares aren’t Percy’s fault. If anything, Nico privately feels the responsibility falls mostly on his own head, since they all seem to be about him in some way other another. He wonders in which manner he bled to death this time. Knowing that’s why Percy’s checking his vitals, Nico scoffs quietly and hates himself for ever feeling anything good about that.

The forest around them is deep as pitch. After a few days of hard travel, even Nico started to feel sleep pulling him down, and he prefers lying out in the open to letting himself get backed into a cave. Maybe a risky choice, but right now, Nico kind of wishes something would come out from between the pines and attack them, just for the distraction. Watching Percy dispatch monsters with gleeful efficiency never gets old, either. Nico looks at the stars over their heads, muted slightly by the light from the dying coals of their fire, and tries to get his bearings. Shadow-traveling doesn’t pay much mind to state lines, but he thinks they might be somewhere north and central… Wisconsin?

Percy’s looking at him again, and Nico looks back, trying to smile. He gets a sigh for his trouble.

“Why’d you bring me again?”

Nico rolls his eyes, and his thumb makes a similar circular pattern on Percy’s temple.

“You know how much easier it is to track down deserters when you can just pop your head into the nearest river and ask which way they went?”

“Yeah, but you were doing just find without me, before.”

No, I wasn’t, Nico wants to scream, but it’s no good. They’ve been over this. No amount of logic will distract Percy when his head gets the better of him. What he needs is a real distraction, something to lure Percy out of his own mind. Stabbing things usually does the trick, but Nico racks his brain, not wanting to need monsters to make Percy feel better when Nico should be able to do that himself, goddammit.

“I kissed Annabeth.”

Percy’s eyes, which had drifted shut against the feeling of Nico’s hands, snap open, comically wide in the low light. Nico feels a hysterical laugh burst from his mouth at the expression on Percy’s face, followed with blind panic. Well, it worked, his traitor brain supplies, as the rest of him scrambles for a solution to his monumental idiocy.

“You what?!” Percy chokes out, and maybe this will end in a fight, after all. This is what he gets, Nico thinks, for holding this in. For all the cold mystery of his puberty years, Nico knows he’s absolute shit at keeping secrets from Percy these days. It was bound to come out eventually. Nico tries to be glad it’s in the deep woods of (maybe) Wisconsin, and not in the middle of camp.

“I kissed Annabeth,” he says, voice alarmingly casual through the rushing in his ears, “Or, rather, she kissed me, but since I kissed her back, it’s all semantics at this point. Twice, actually.”

“W-when?” Percy sputters, and Nico has to congratulate himself a little because Percy sure is distracted now.

“Right before she went back to California.”

There’s a long silence. Nico is acutely aware of Percy’s eyes on him, but chooses to survey the forest around them instead of looking death in the face.

“Did you like it?” Percy asks, voice low. Nico’s eyes snap back to his, because that was not the expected response. There was a limit to the amount of crap Nico had been willing to take for this, but he’s pretty sure there are rules in place about this making a move on another guy’s girlfriend type of thing. He just hadn’t ever anticipated breaking them. He also didn’t expect his heart to be thudding quite so hard in his chest. He wonders if Percy has noticed. 

Nico shrugs, watching Percy’s face carefully. It’s strangely blank.

“Not as much as I like kissing you.”

“But did you?” Percy presses, and maybe it’s the low light but Nico doesn’t think he’s ever seen Percy’s pupils so wide. 

“Yeah,” Nico says, shooting for nonchalance, but the word rumbles in his chest. He takes a long pause, remembering his goal to distract Percy from the nightmare, and maybe his traitor brain had a plan before Nico could even fathom why it might work, “Her mouth is really soft and she, uh, tastes really good, kind of like-“

“Peppermint?” Percy finishes, and the word spills out like he can’t help himself. Nico surveys him carefully, maps the flush on his cheeks, the way his mouth is still slightly parted after the word escapes. Huh.

Nico feels a smile slip onto his lips, and he’ll be damned if Percy’s eyes don’t flick to his mouth. Like he isn’t damned already.

“You aren’t really taking this how I thought you would,” he admits. Percy smiles a little, too, eyes following the words.

“How did you want me to take it?” he asks quietly, and Nico’s hands tremble against Percy’s skin because holy shit. 

Before Nico can react, Percy reaches up and pulls him in, presses his mouth firmly to Nico’s, like he’s been waiting for ages. Nico groans, angles his head as he uses his thumbs to coax Percy’s lips apart so he can slide his tongue inside. Percy’s lips might be chapped, but the inside of his mouth is so smooth, slick, and Nico swallows a moan as his mind flashes to when he was lying in a warm bed with his fingers winding around golden curls. 

Thinking of his kind of boyfriend’s kind of ex-girlfriend mid-kiss would probably have given Nico more pause if Percy didn’t go right ahead and pause for him, sliding his lips over Nico’s jaw and onto his throat, huffing a hot breath and low words into Nico’s ear.

“Tell me,” he asks, but it’s more like a plea, and if Nico ever considered denying him this, he certainly isn’t going to now. He does really want to hear Percy ask for it, though.

“Tell you? Tell you what?” Nico replies, trying to be coy, except that he’s sliding over Percy under the blanket, tangling their legs together. Percy shivers.

“Tell me about it. Tell me about kissing her,” Percy whispers, and maybe he thinks Nico needs a little coaxing (he doesn’t), because Nico feels a pointed tongue round the fold of his ear and it pulls a noise from his throat that sounds vaguely inhuman.

“S’totally… totally different from you,” he rasps, and begins punctuating his words with little presses of his hips to Percy. Percy doesn’t bother hiding his moan, hands falling to Nico’s waist to encourage him. Nico starts again, “She’s so… ahh, sweet, she’s so sweet and… gods, Percy…”

“Keep going,” Percy begs, mouth right against his ear, and Nico snaps, because he doesn’t know why this is turning him on, but it is, and it’s pulling Percy out from whichever dark place his brain had gone this time and Nico knows he can do even better. He grabs Percy’s hips, holding him down, pulling back enough to see his face as he hangs on Nico’s every word. Nico shifts his hips the last few inches and presses, watching Percy’s teeth dig into his lip as Nico continues.

“You better stop distracting me, then. Hold still.”

Percy freezes, except for the blinding smile that flies over his face, and Nico feels like his heart is pressing against his ribs, the beating vibrating his whole skeleton. He pauses, as if he has to think about it, as if it isn’t burned into his brain.

“She has the nicest mouth, your girlfriend,” he starts, fighting for control of his voice. Percy doesn’t correct him on the tense, just keeps still as Nico slides one hand down his chest, watching his face, looking almost impassive. “I wasn’t expecting it, so even though it was a quick kiss, my mouth was a little open and she… pressed in, just a little, just the tip of her tongue, on mine…”

Percy pays rapt attention like Nico’s never seen before, and he might consider being a little offended if he wasn’t rock hard in his jeans. His hand makes it to Percy’s waist, to the button on his pants, and when he hooks his fingers between the denim and the firm skin of Percy’s abdomen, the resulting twitch makes Nico grin, remembering when things were reversed, remembering events that shouldn't make him smile, but they do, they do, because that's why they're here. That's why Percy is here with him, listening to Nico wax poetic about Annabeth's mouth.

Life is strange, sometimes. 

“And her tongue, it’s just so perfect, so soft, and…” 

Percy’s fingers flutter at his sides, grasping air, itching to feel. Nico flicks the button open and there are limits to everyone’s self-control.

“And?” Percy prompts, breathing hard. Nico smiles down at him, and tries to keep the do-or-die argument he’s having in his head off his face.

“And fuck, I liked it. I wanted to know if she’s that soft everywhere.”

A sound escapes Percy’s throat, guttural and strained, and Nico can’t keep building him up. He has to touch. Wrenching Percy’s fly open just enough to get a hand in, Nico falls on him, face on his neck, mouth to his skin, fingers wrapped around him because Nico’s mind is full, bursting with the three of them, together, and suddenly nothing is more important than getting the one he has his hands on to come as quickly as possible.

As quickly as possible turns out to be pretty damn quick, and Nico wipes his hand on the blanket while Percy’s catching his breath. When Nico looks up, Percy is pinching the bridge of his nose, his mouth contorted into something that’s half a smile, half a grimace. 

“Gods, Nico... that was... you... Gods.”

Nico laughs, the sound of it bright and strange against the dark backdrop, against his own ears.

“Sorry.”

“Wha-?” Percy starts, then closes his eyes, hand fumbling blindly out to press over Nico’s face, half on his mouth, “No. Just no. No talking. Unless you’re going to keep, you know, talking in which case I’m so for it but give me a minute.”

Nico smiles against his fingers, and maybe bites the thumb resting across his teeth. Percy half-yelps, half-laughs.

“Jesus.”

“Wrong religion,” Nico says, a lot more casually than he feels.

“Nope, I’m equal opportunity in my blaspheming.”

Percy recovers quickly, to his credit, hands finding Nico’s hips, dragging across the buttons. The relief is immediate, but Nico has to, can’t help but ask one serious question before he lets himself get pulled under.

“Anyway, did it work?”

Percy blinks at him for a second, then sighs. His hands pause but don’t stop.

“Yeah, yeah it did. Just being here is enough, even if I don’t know why you let me come, why you wanted to bring me to… hey where are we going, anyway? Did you decide yet?” 

Somewhere in the do-or-die argument, Nico knows he did. He smiles down at Percy.

“Yeah, I was kind of leaning towards California. Any thoughts?”

Percy laughs, blushes, rolls Nico over and shows him exactly what he thinks. The clearing is warm, pushing back on the darkness, Nico thinks, and the stars are definitely brighter overhead.

 

 

fin