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His phone reads thirty minutes and running, but Percy blocks it out where it lays on his pillow. He bites his lip instead, eyes shut and head tipping back while he works his cock into the tight, slippery circle of his hand.
“I can hear you breathing, Percy, you’re doing so good,” his phone purrs, and Percy’s breath skips and snags in his throat. His face falls to the side, mouth open and ears hot while he digs his heels into the bed and arches. “You always work so hard for me, feel so perfect. You close?”
“Yeah,” Percy grunts. The sound threads off into a moan - a private sound, high and vulnerable - when his orgasm snaps through him, free hand anchored on the headboard while he spasms and rides it to the end. He hears the breathing on the line pick up with it, and he can picture the face like it’s hovering over him: a mischievous but welcoming smile flanked by that scar. Crinkling blue eyes. Sandy blond hair, just enough to work his hands into.
On the line, Brick comes with a muted sound and none of the porn-star relish he’d had for Percy’s first call. But by now, they have an understanding; Percy’s his Wednesday night regular, and the character he’s after is more of a talker than a moaner. At least, Percy imagines he is: talkative where it counts, directive, encouraging like he is at practice. It’s not like he’s ever had Luke in his bed for real. What would be the point of a sex line, then?
“Hey, Percy...”
Percy opens his eyes, fumbling to his side for his old shirt to mop off with. “Yeah, I’ll take the extension. Bill me, dude.”
So maybe he’s a Wednesday regular because venting to to his ex about her almost-brother, almost-ex is super weird. But Brick’s a good listener. A good, detached-from-his-life listener who can’t give him looks while he supposedly gives Luke looks when they strip out of their lamés. For the record? Percy does not. Every time he tries to tell Hazel, she gives him those sympathetic eyes and pats his back like he’s gone off the deep end, and then she owns him on the strip. It’s just one of those things.
Though it’s not his fault that he happens to space and stare at Luke while his brain’s spinning off in ten other directions.
“Percy?”
“Huh?” See? Ten other directions. Percy rolls towards the phone and tosses his shirt away, tucking back into his boxers with little fuss. “Sorry, spacing. You’re good to talk?”
Brick laughs. “You did pay for the time. Yeah, I can talk. What’s on your mind?”
All of the sex he’s not having with Luke Castellan.
“All of the sex I’m not having with - “
“Your ‘friend’, yeah. I remember. You’ve mentioned him a few times.”
Sometimes, Percy wants to chuck something at Brick’s head. The guy reminds him of more than one bull-headed friend, but he lets it go. Orgasms have that kind of effect on him. “Yeah? Did I mention that he wants to go grab Chipotle next week?”
“No. Should I be jealous?”
“Only if you love Chipotle. I’m pretty sure giant burritos aren’t like, a pre-sex ritual.”
“I know someone who’d disagree.”
In his room, Jason Grace shoos said someone from his door with a look. Not a very effective look, judging by the eyebrow waggling and saucy gestures that answer him - but that’s typical Leo behavior. It’s also the reason that Jason sticks to voice acting on-call, instead of going through with every ridiculous thing that comes out of his mouth. Being hailed as ‘Brick with the Big Dick’ is bad enough, and that’s just the tip of the nickname iceberg.
Percy sighs. He sounds all huffy on the line, edged in static like he’s breathing right into the mouthpiece. “Someone’s weird. Anyway, it’s dinner after practice. I’m gonna stay late to run a few extra bouts with him, that’s all.”
Jason knows he’s heard this fantasy. He’s played it out, too. He still has a Google Doc dedicated to the fencing lingo he’d gleaned from a few good Google searches, though he hadn’t really needed any of it; Percy had wanted the reins that night. When he glances back to the doorway he finds it empty, so Jason picks lint from his sweater and takes a mental note to shut the door when he’s able. “If it’s just dinner, what’re you worried about?”
Sometimes, he wants to tell Percy that he’s making things way too complicated. It jumps between endearing and frustrating, but tonight it’s a little of both when Jason shakes his head.
“Uh,” Percy starts, like it’s obvious. “Dinner?”
Jason’s torn. After entertaining a guy’s phone sex fantasies for a good chunk of the semester and letting him talk about life, it’s hard to know what to say. Give the flirtatious line? It made sense; keep things casual. But after hearing about Percy and his ‘friend’ problems for this long, Jason couldn’t help his investment. He glances to the door again - still clear - before waking his laptop from sleep mode. Notes. Notes never fail him.
“But what about it? You’ve known him for awhile, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Percy manages to sound like he’s disagreeing, despite it all. Typical. “Since I was twelve. But it’s not like you look at a guy you watched go through puberty and think, ‘oh yeah, I want that’. Cracking voice? Hot. He’s gonna look at me and think that it’s like treating a kid brother.”
Sometimes, Jason wants to smack Percy upside the head. He shifts the phone to pull his glasses back down onto his face, still squinting while he scrolls. If he’s not careful, he’ll slip out of Brick space and into ‘why are you so stupid’ space. Percy just...pulls it out of him, some nights. And even though the company he’s contracted with can’t tap his landline to monitor his calls, Percy could definitely complain. “Are you still twelve? Or are you going through second puberty?”
Okay, so maybe he’s already on his way there.
“Oh, ha-ha, very funny.” Percy’s tone sounds drier than Jason’s 8AM Western Civ lecture. “You know me, loaded twelve year old who wants to get off to a dude with a name like Brick.”
No, he’s definitely on his way there. Now Percy’s just mouthing off to be a jerk. Jason notices the clock in the corner of his display, taking a deep breath through his nose and putting on what Leo liked to call his ‘bitch and mortar’ smile. It comes with its own dead-even tone, cold with a warning of hot tempers. “Hey, Percy - “
“Come off it already. I don’t need another extension.” Like that, Percy hangs up. Sometimes he acts like he’s twelve. It’s not the first time. It probably won’t be the last. Jason glares at his phone before setting it back in the cradle, sighing.
Percy blames his sweaty flush on post-practice reek, but even smelling like the inside of a plastron he knows it’s Luke’s fault. Not in the way he hoped for, either; no, Luke paid for his burrito. Nice, right?
“You still beat too often, but your footwork was a lot cleaner tonight.” Luke’s smiling at him from across the table. It’s the crooked, reassuring kind - still too amused for his own good, but definitely worth staring at.
And Percy does. But he’s still wrapping his head around the stupid ‘a-duhh’ that was supposed to be a ‘thanks’ back at the register. It’s a hard hurdle to jump past, but hey, it wasn’t like Annabeth calls him ‘Seaweed Brain’ for nothing. ‘Foot-mouth’ would’ve been just as good, even if it’s not as clever. Maybe if he shoves his burrito in there first he can dam any future mess-ups. His face feels like a furnace and his hair’s still plastered to his head. Somehow, helmet hair still manages to look good on Luke. Go figure.
He stuffs his burrito into his mouth instead of his foot. “You fink schlo?” Nevermind. Percy chews, swallows, and prays to any god that’ll listen that he won’t make a total disaster out of himself tonight. While he clears his throat, Luke looks at him, all easygoing eye-crinkles like he’s sitting on a smile. It kind of reminds him of Annabeth whenever he managed something equal parts stupid and endearing. “Er, you think so?”
“Yep.” The ‘p’ pops like its own punctuation. Luke gestures to Percy with his burrito. “If you spend half the bout beating, you won’t be making many points.”
A snort from the table behind them makes Luke pause and Percy twist around to look, but the guys sitting there hush up quick - some bandy Latino and a blond that makes Percy double-take, if only so his brain can fizzle out somewhere between ‘blue eyes’ and ‘facial scar’. God, he wishes he could’ve caught a shower after practice. When he settles back into his seat, Luke shrugs one shoulder like, ‘What can you do?’ Two hot blue-eyed blonds with facial scars. Seriously. What’s up with that?
Either the world is out to get him, or it’s apologizing for his student loans by throwing him into a den of incredibly hot wolves.
“I’ll...try to remember that,” Percy says. His heart’s not all in it, but hey, he’s distracted.
He’s not the only one.
“Hey, bro,” Leo starts, sliding halfway across the table. It’s not a big table. Jason prays to any god that’ll listen that no one else can hear them. Leo’s face floods with faux-concern while he filches a chip from Jason’s bag. “You should really stop beating off in the middle of - “
“Leo.”
That’s enough to spark another grin, and Leo laughs as he slips back into his seat, looking for the world like he’s about to kick back with his feet up on the table while he snacks. “What? I’m just joshin’ you. Unless you want me to Brick you instead.”
Jason catches another glance from the dark-haired guy behind Leo and waits it out with a cool smile before shooting Leo a look. Like usual, it doesn’t take him far, but Leo stops fidgeting in his seat to spill back onto the table, thankfully all elbows about it. If letting him vacuum chips into his face means a slice of peace while they wait on Piper, he’ll take it. He slides the whole bag across to Leo and catches the answering high-beam smile with a smaller one of his own, eyes rolling.
“So, no work tonight?” Leo lowers his voice and arches his brows while he shreds a chip’s edge between his teeth. At a volume like that in public? Definitely a truce.
Jason shrugs. “I don’t work every Wednesday. And it’s been awhile since the three of us could hang out.”
“Like Beauty Queen isn’t busy juggling girlfriends. Between you and Pipes, I look like a prude. Next thing you know I’ll be Tío Leo, eternal bachelor.”
Jason smiles, sympathetic, while Leo gouges out guac like it’s his life’s mission. His attention falters when he hears something familiar. The annoying part is that he just can’t place what drew his ear, but his eyes sweep the area to try. No Piper, yet. No music he’s heard before. People chat all around him: standing in line, tossing trash, and crowding around tables to eat...but, inevitably, he finds himself staring at the guys behind Leo. The blond with the facial scar has a smile that makes Jason want to smile back, half-hidden where his chin rests in his hand.
“Oh, ha-ha,” the dark haired one says - dry and loud while it reaches for the light switch in Jason’s brain, “very funny.”
Jason can’t stop staring. He knows that voice.
“Bro?” Leo waggles a chip in his face. “Earth to Superman, sending distress signal. Hello?”
Behind him, Percy starts re-wrapping the remains of his burrito before twisting out his seat. Sea green eyes. A face like a confused but very hopeful puppy. He’s laughing, even after everything. Percy is. Percy.
Oh god. His face feels like it wants to burn off.
“Jason?” Leo drops his wrist, chip held to the side, while his brows begin to knit. When he starts to turn around - starts to look at Percy, Jason clears his throat and sits straight in his seat.
“Sorry. I spaced out.” Now would be a great time for Piper to appear through the doors, but she doesn’t; Percy heads for the trashcan instead, tossing an “I got it” back to his friend. Probably the infamous ‘friend,’ who is he kidding? The blond looks older. There’s a duffel bag near his feet. That has to be the ‘friend’ he’s been entertaining fantasies about all this time. Jason wants to sink into the floor.
Leo sizes him up like a puzzle, but the expression shifts gears into wary concern. “You look like you’re gonna throw up. At least warn me first. I need time to escape the blast zone.”
“No, no, I’m fine.” Jason’s trying not to stare at Percy. It’d help if Percy didn’t stare back, when the first passing glance on his way back to the table wasn’t enough. When Jason cuts his eyes back to Leo, he’s met with an impish grin and jumping brows.
“Who’s that?”
“Nobody. He just looked familiar.”
“Are we talking ‘next boyfriend’ familiar? ‘Cause I can play wingman, no problemo. ‘Excuse me, did you drop your burrito? My man back over there can help you find a new one.’” Leo clicks his tongue and winks, and when Jason tries to sneak another glance at Percy he’s already caught.
Because Percy swears he knows that voice, but he can’t for the life of him place the face.
It doesn’t hit him until Friday. Friday, when he normally wouldn’t call because he’d be hanging with Annabeth, or Grover, or Skyping his mom. Friday, when Annabeth’s having one of those huge, multi-girlfriend date nights, Grover’s out of town for an environmental awareness conference, and his mom’s taken the night off for a fancy dinner with Paul.
Friday, when he decides the ratio of annoying to engaging has tipped in Brick’s favor, Brick ruins it by answering the call like Percy’s just walked in on him jerking it. And not in the sexy way.
“Uh, Percy? It’s Friday.” As if Percy couldn’t read a calendar. Or his phone screen. Or the awkward tension dripping down his back like ice with the weight of realization. That voice. That discomfort. Chipotle. Luke had ribbed him about a secret admirer and that guy had sounded so familiar because duh, Wednesday regular.
“Percy? Hello?” Dude couldn’t sound more hesitant if he tried. Brick. But his name isn’t Brick, is it? He’s now Percy’s Type #2, local Chipotle customer and hopefully-accidental date voyeur. Not date. Dinner.
“Uh, sorry. Spaced out.” Any beginnings of a boner? Lost and confused. Not that he wasn’t attractive, but Percy’s floundering in the burgeoning horror of the situation. This? Way worse than forgetting his one month kiss anniversary, back in the day. He sits up in bed like his pillows turned to lava, then clears his throat. “But you know? You’re right. It’s Friday. I, uh. Wednesday wasn’t a good time.”
“Right.” Not-Brick agrees after a pressing pause.
“Right?”
“Wednesday - you were probably just busy, right?”
Percy scrubs his hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose to trap the wrinkles there. “Yeah, date. Dinner. I had dinner.” If his brain had a display it’d probably say, ‘Mouth is disconnected. Please check your network cables then continue the troubleshoot.’ Something like that, but less like something his computer would spit out and more like his brain vibrating in a silent scream. It’s one of those nights. It might even be the crowning glory of one of those nights, at this rate.
“How...er, how’d it go?”
Oh, great. It had only built up into the most retroactively uncomfortable night of his life. “Good. It was good. We just ate and left. Um.”
“That sounds pretty nice.”
A pause unfurls between them while Percy glances at his phone, seconds ticking by in-call. They feel like eons. He wants to suffocate his cell until it stops working. “So.”
“Hm?”
“I’m...gonna go. It’s Friday.” Before Not-Brick can get back to him on that, Percy fumbles for the end call button and tosses his phone into his laundry hamper.
At home, Jason slumps over his own lap and rubs one hand over his hair, deflating like a balloon that already suffers from low air pressure. Percy knows. Percy definitely knows.
Percy’s sharp on the strip...usually. It makes Luke push him harder than he would otherwise, if only to cultivate those scary glimmers of talent until they pop up on purpose, not on accident. But tonight? Tonight, Luke’s half-tempted to pull Percy off and have him take a rest day. His head isn’t in it. Hazel ducks into his guard like she’s been at it for years because Percy leaves himself wide open.
When the bout ends, Luke snags Percy’s gaze as soon as the helmet’s up and off, nodding towards the gym’s edge. It takes Percy a moment to unhook from his body cord, but as soon as he’s free he passes off his foil and trots after Luke. Percy’s a good guy and reminds him a lot of Thalia: loyal like a guard dog but capable of the same kind, disarming charm. He looks disappointed when Luke stops to face him, sheepishness bleeding from the creases around his mouth while he shifts his weight left to right.
“Don’t worry,” Luke says, leaning up against the wall. “I didn’t bring you over here to run you through. Looks like Hazel did that enough.” He keeps his voice light, propping one foot back against the wall. “What’s going on tonight, Percy?”
Percy’s skin flares through his beach bum tan. The red bites at the tips of his ears until they look like warning lights, and Luke kind of wants to laugh beneath the niggling concern.
“That bad?” Percy winces.
Luke raises his eyebrows, then nods. “That bad.”
If nothing else, Percy looks like he’s accepted it between his sighing and shoe-scuffing. He’s still flushed when he shifts his helmet over his stomach, but he’s not staring at the floor. “It’s just been an off week, I guess.”
It’s a whole lot better than the naked truth: ‘Hey Luke, sorry I’ve been sucking so hard on the strip. I just had an awkward encounter with the dude I’ve been subbing in for you for an embarrassing amount of phone sex. Did I mention it was while I was already being weird about Chipotle? And did I mention that I think I’ve wanted to get with you since puberty? Because that easygoing confidence thing has really worked out for you.’
Yeah. Not happening, no matter how true it is. Even now, Luke’s lounging against the wall like one of those ‘I’m not a model’ shots. Dozens of people would probably fall into an awkward encounter or five for a guy like that, and as far as Percy knows Luke’s still flying solo. It doesn’t make this situation any less intimidating.
Luke sighs through his nose and considers Percy before peeling away from the wall. “Alright. Just don’t forget that I’m here if you want to talk, okay? About anything.”
Coming from the guy who finds time for the local fencing club and the university’s fencing club - the guy working on his Master’s? The guy who’s been there for Percy every step through college? Good-looking Luke with a million obligations who still buys him dinner? It’s more than a little goo-inducing. Percy swears he’s starting to melt and puddle in his shoes. It’s just plain embarrassing, but he weathers it while he scratches the back of his neck, smiling out of control when Luke claps a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Luke.”
“No prob.” Luke’s eyes pinch at the corners when he smiles. They’re the kind of blue that feels like sky on surf for a perfect, balmy day. “Let’s get back in there before they say we’re slacking off.”
Percy doesn’t call back. Not that Jason expects him to after everything, but it hits the point where he jolts each time the phone rings while he’s home. If he hears Leo ad lib another jingle about ‘The Sexy Misadventures of Jump-Scare Jason,’ he thinks he might scream.
For better or worse, it brings him back to Chipotle to study. It’s not as student-friendly as the eclectic café that Piper likes to drag him to when they’re trying to be productive, but his stomach’s been masochistic; ever since ‘the Incident,’ he’s craved cilantro-lime rice. It takes maneuvering to section the table into book space and bowl space, but Jason tunes the rest of the room out soon enough between bites and jotting down notes.
That means that his eyes stay low, undisturbed while Percy gawks at him from the register. He almost forgets to pay. It’s that bad. But it doesn’t help that Not-Brick’s glasses really suit him. Is that a sweater? His favorite sex line persona wears knit sweaters with puppies on them.
Percy takes a table on the edge of Not-Brick’s orbit, shoulders hunching while he stews and stares and considers his life choices. Like not taking his food to-go. Or budgeting in money to specifically call a dude who calls himself ‘Brick’ and rocks puppy sweaters in his down time. He has no problems with guys who love puppies - he loves puppies, but it feels like his carefully constructed fantasy world is falling in around his ears.
Not-Brick must hear it, because not only does he look up, but he finds Percy as soon as he turns his head. He blinks. Stares. And then he blanches.
Even startled and pale, he still has a face that plays Percy like an arcade game. But oh, that’s not where it stops. Not-Brick stands up when he sees Percy, and a grim determination seizes him before he ditches his books and half-eaten burrito bowl to come over. God knows why. Percy definitely didn’t invite him, but whatever expression he has on - resting bitch face? Surprised resting bitch face? - doesn’t slow Not-Brick’s stride at all.
He says, “Percy.” As if the whole situation wasn’t bad enough, Not-Brick knows him. Recognizes him. Percy’s hands cinch around his burrito like he’s trying to make it burst when Not-Brick rests his hands on the chair across the table. He holds one up like it’s enough to keep Percy from talking, which it so isn’t.
“Why are you here?”
Nevermind leaving the apartment to escape a good scream. Jason might be capable of it right here, even if it’s trapped inside his head with the maelstrom of bad ideas that brought him this far.
“I’ll leave you alone if this is too weird, but I’d like to talk. My name’s Jason.” He thrusts one hand out, and Percy manages to look more surprised, like an angry baby that can’t wrap its head around peekaboo. It’d be cute if his gut weren’t ringing alarm bells and insisting that he leave.
Percy’s nose scrunches when he frowns. “Can we...not talk about this in Chipotle?”
Oh. Oh, right. Jason feels heat gnaw up his neck when he pulls his hand back to rub at it, wincing on the inside. He just accosted one of his clients to talk about their relationship. In Chipotle. Even with few people scattered through the room, it’s far from sensible. Who tries to talk about his line of work in public?
Leo. Leo does. That’s no reason to do it himself, but Jason holds onto the thought like a man clawing his way to the ocean’s surface. He still has plenty of depth to cross.
“Yes,” he says, too business-like while he wrings his hands. Jason earns part of a living by talking to people, but the words keep dancing out of reach. He feels ridiculous when he finally clasps his wrists behind his back to stand still. “Yeah, of course.”
And he stands there while Percy stares at him, thick brows knit. Jason stares back. When the awkward in the situation catches up to him, Jason clears his throat and tugs on his sweater sleeves before nodding back to his table.
“I’ll be over there, then.”
“Uh huh.”
Walking and talking becomes the battle plan, after Percy sidles up to Jason’s table with an uncomfortable slouch. It leaves Jason toting his bag full of books while they wander, but he’s suffered worse. Far worse. Like seeing Percy catch him mid-glance, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie and expression piecing together between street lamps: a flash of pale eyes, the stubborn set of his mouth, and those dark, frowning eyebrows.
“So this is some talk we’re having.” Percy’s shoulders bunch as he pulls his hood up, eyes setting forward instead of playing stare tag. “Brick. What kind of name’s Brick, anyway?”
Jason adjusts his bag and frowns. In his head, he hears Leo say, “Uh oh. Disappointed mom face - alert, alert!” It’s not the most comforting sign, voices in his head, but Jason sighs the tension out to take responsibility. He did barge up to Percy to ask to talk; walking and staring just makes him feel vaguely creepy. “A fake one. And it’s not like I’ve done this before.”
“Sure surprised me.”
For a guy who regulars a sex line and can’t handle going out for Chipotle with his fencing crush, Percy manages to up the ante on sass every time he opens his mouth. Jason brushes that off, too. “I wanted to apologize. I know neither of us planned to run into each other at Chipotle, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Especially if that was supposed to be your big date.”
“It was dinner,” Percy corrects, but he shoots Jason a mild glance alongside it. The tension in his shoulders ebbs, then sluices off all at once with his shrug. “You didn’t ruin it, either. I didn’t even know it was you until I called you. Luke told me you kept gaping at me when we were there, though.”
“Yeah, I...recognized you.” It sounds better than, ‘You sound just as sarcastic in real life.’ Jason hooks his thumbs in his pockets, aiming for casual. “So Luke’s his name?”
He sounds like he’s honestly interested. When Percy sneaks a peek it lingers, because Jason’s back to looking at him with that smile, eyebrows both up like he’s some nice, approachable dude in a puppy sweater. Which, yeah. Okay. Maybe his sex line stand-in isn’t a monster hiding behind a phone that wants to storm in and ruin his life.
Shoving his hands deep into his hoodie, Percy sucks his lips past his teeth and lets a long sigh loose. It’s time to put on the big boy pants and make an adult decision.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Jason starts, and Percy wags the front of his hoodie at him for silence.
“Nah, it is. I was just thinking. It’s freaking cold out.” When he checks, Jason’s still looking at him. It’s the kind of look that Percy feels his brain cells shrivel and die for, like when Annabeth would toss her ponytail over her shoulder back when they were dating. Even when it hit him in the face, he couldn’t shake how pretty she looked. That kind of dumbstruck, yeah. Between she and Luke, Percy knows his shit. He just knows.
And Jason clearly doesn’t, because his eyebrows are doing that thing where it’s like they’re talking on their own: “And?”
“I can catch you up on him and stuff if you wanna go grab a coffee.” Shrugging, Percy arches one eyebrow in what he hopes forms an inviting message. “You can buy, since you’ve been sucking my wallet dry all semester.”
Jason laughs too loud, like an accident. “You kept calling me. I thought you were supposed to be the loaded twelve year old, here.”
“Hey, we’re not talking about that. You’re the one who had to barge in on my Chipotle time.”
“On accident.” Does Jason sound embarrassed? He deserves to.
Percy bumps Jason with his shoulder, grinning and glaring all at once. “No way, dude. You came right up to my table, you owe me coffee. You wanted to tell the world about my phone bill.”
Jason loses that argument. Then again, he stops trying to win it past a point. A few bucks for a story he’s been itching to hear isn’t the worst price he’s paid, and Piper’s eclectic café is more study-friendly than Chipotle.
Luke invites him over to study, but it turns into a movie night before Percy’s so much as finished the first ten pages of his reading assignment. What self-respecting college student would pick Antigone over Mad Max: Fury Road?
Not him. Percy grins at Luke’s laptop, the saturated colors reflecting in his eyes. He knows this part by heart. “Oh, what a day...”
“What a lovely day!” Luke smiles when Percy looks at him, and that’s all the warning Percy receives before the warm weight of Luke’s arm settles around his shoulders. “Think you’ll drop out to go full War Boy?” He sounds so casual, like he didn’t just zap Percy’s brain into warm mush. He looks so casual, too: sweats, socks, and an innocuous kind of impishness glinting in his eyes.
After a dragging, deafening pause, Percy pries his eyes away from Luke’s and throws a dead-end prayer up into space. No foot in mouth today. He says, “Maybe.” Real eloquent, right? His stomach keeps jumping, pulling tricks like a dolphin hamming it up for fish. There’s just no way that Luke’s pulling a ‘Netflix and chill’ on him right now. It’s not humanly possible.
Luke must read whatever face he’s struggling with, because he chuckles before squeezing Percy’s far shoulder. “I talked to Annabeth,” he says, as if that explains everything. Percy stares. “She said you were pretty dense, but I thought maybe you’d grown out of that.”
“What?” Percy keeps staring. Annabeth’s totally right. He’s as dense as New York’s population. He’s so dense that he’s still waiting for an explanation, and the fact looks like it’s percolating behind Luke’s forehead - and maybe in the creases where his teeth pinch the edge of his smile. Percy owns dense, but no one can call him unobservant.
“I’ve been trying to flirt with you.”
“What?” A-duhh. His hands itch to smack his own face, but Percy curls them over his pants, instead.
“Percy, c’mon. I’ve been dropping hints since you joined the fencing club.”
What??
Luke laughs at him, straight-up laughs in his face, but he slides his grin behind the loose curl of his fist in a semblance of composure. “How many times have I asked you out? Movies? Dinner? Just to spend time with you?”
“I thought you were being cool!” Even sitting up, Percy makes damn sure that he doesn’t dislodge Luke’s arm. Part of him wants to reach for it and see what it feels like with his hands. “Like, being nice because I didn’t know most of the people there.”
“I literally told you that I wouldn’t be surprised if that guy in Chipotle was checking you out because you’re really attractive.”
Percy throws his arms up to glower at the ceiling. If gods or a God exist, they’re all assholes. “I thought you were being funny!”
And Luke loses it. Of course he does. This is probably the most entertaining attempt at seduction he’s ever had to live through, even though Percy’s been champing at the bit to have a piece of him since age twelve. Okay, maybe a little older. At twelve he’d wanted Luke to be his brother, but that burnt up quick enough between puberty and thirst. Percy holds his face in his hands and sighs while Luke’s arm slips from his shoulders.
Beside him, Luke’s laughing so hard that he’s gone silent, wiping at his eyes with quaking shoulders and watching Percy slouch into his own lap. Percy’s face had looked too perfect to tamper with, like a modern rendition of The Scream. It’d be cruel to leave him like that, though. Swallowing snickers, Luke nudges Percy’s side with his elbow and hunkers down to try and look at him.
“Percy.”
Percy still won’t look at him. His voice comes out muffled while he holds the back of his head, neck flushed between his hairline and collar. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m really not. I promise.”
For a moment, Percy stays bowed in silence, studying the shadows in his jeans. Luke. Luke Castellan thinks he’s hot. Luke Castellan wants to date him. Luke Castellan’s probably been asking him out on dates this entire time. He hates how the first thought to come to mind is how Jason told him so like, fifty times over coffee. “Are you sure he doesn’t like you? He sounds like he likes you,” and, “That sounds like a date. You’ve really never asked him about that?”
Jason can eat a dick. Maybe he can, too.
With that bolstering thought, Percy creaks upright to side-eye Luke and Luke’s mirth-hooked smile, all tight at the edges like he’s trying not to laugh. It softens when they make eye contact. Forget dolphins. At this rate, Percy’s stomach’s planning to rocket off into space the second he opens his mouth.
“I really like you,” explodes out of his mouth under that gaze, and Percy scours Luke’s face for a reaction with rapt, wide-eyed attention. While he clenches the denim creased around his knees, Luke’s smile hikes high and lopsided before popping open with another laugh. His head shakes slow and easy, eyes dropping as his hand pushes back through the sandy spikes of his hair.
“I think I got that. Glad we’re on the same page, though.” Luke reaches for him then, catches Percy’s shoulder to tow and topple him so their sides crush flush. “Dork.”
Percy wedges one arm between Luke and the couch to settle in, stealing glances every time he adjusts until he’s comfortable. Whatever background noise that Mad Max offers seeps through one ear and out the other. It’s like he’s back to square one on having no clue what to do with himself. They like each other. He’s a massive dip with seaweed for brains. So. “Now what?”
Grinning hurts, but Luke can’t quit. “I’d offer to make out, but if you keep making me laugh it’s gonna be impossible.”
That clears a layer of fog from Percy’s face, though his eyebrows shoot up into the stratosphere. “No, I’m done. We can make out.” He’s already shimmying up to sit straighter, one hand bracing on Luke’s thigh and the other gripping his waist.
His first few attempts fail - Luke keeps breaking into grins and bubbling laughter when Percy’s about to land one, which makes him start to grin and laugh back - but when they manage to quiet it’s worth it. Luke’s lips drag damp over his with a rasp of stubble and a breath of old coffee, and Percy’s sure he’ll die before it ends.
Later - much later - Jason will text him back with, “happy for you! :)”
Hearing about Percy’s relationship adventures reminds Jason of hearing about Piper’s, back when she first started seeing Annabeth. Then Reyna. And then Hazel, all at the same time. The news about Luke takes less wading through to follow than a polycule, but the important part is that his friends are happy. He’s at that point where he knows what to expect when his phone buzzes, and the line for coffee gives him more than enough time to check it.
PERCY
bro guess what
Jason pecks out a “what?” The line shifts forward while the bells tied to the door jangle, cutting through the background of chatter.
PERCY
i’m on a coffe date rn
and staring at this nerd in line
he’s got a sweater vest on
looks a lot like u
u nerd
The snickering from the back of the line draws Jason’s eye in the same moment the text draws his smile, and he steps out of place to join Percy and Luke. “You spelled ‘coffee’ wrong,” he retorts, wanting to sigh at Percy’s laugh-shaped slouch. He offers Luke his hand instead, drinking in the tall cut of him with fresh eyes. “Hey, I’m Jason. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. No wonder Percy’s glued to his phone.” Luke gives a firm shake, the kind Jason can appreciate from anyone. His smile’s still as engaging as it looked in Chipotle, so Jason flashes one back to mirror it. “I’m Luke. Would you want to join us for coffee?”
The way Luke glances to Percy to check in flows smooth as butter, and they tip him matching grins right as Jason raises his hands. “I couldn’t - “
He could. He shouldn’t, but he does with enough ribbing, and Luke collects him with their drinks (plus one scone studded with fat, glistening blueberries). They meet Percy at the windowside table to sit, and between them Percy looks like his face might split if he smiles any wider. When he fits half of that scone into his mouth with one bite, it’s almost unsurprising.
“That’s real cute, Perc,” Luke says, the nickname soft - ‘purse’ - behind the rim of his coffee cup. The look he tosses Jason over it is easy enough to interpret: “I’m dating that,” but with enough entertained fondness to make Jason feel like he’s not in The Office. Not quite.
Percy colors around the ears, but his grin’s still jammed open around scone. “De whiff it.”
“You have good taste.” Jason leaves the comment in the air to blow on his coffee, but catches Luke smirking his way when he looks up. Percy flips him the bird in his periphery.
“Yeah, so does Percy. How’d you two meet?”
Percy’s bird takes a nosedive as he sits up, crumbs raining onto his sweatshirt that he dusts off as they hit. He swallows like he’s drowning. Jason busies his mouth with tiny, unerring sips of coffee and studies the table, trying to look thoughtful. He settles for, “Online.”
A staggered second later, Percy coughs, “Homework.” It’s not their best moment.
Self-satisfaction oozes from Luke’s smile; he looks like a cat that just slapped an important vase from the mantel while he nods. The lack of actual commentary makes Jason want to cringe, but it’s not like he and Percy talked about this beforehand; he’d never planned to bump into a client-cum-friend in the middle of a date.
It means he leaps for the bait as soon as Luke dangles a change of topic between them, joining Percy in clinging to extracurriculars. Neutral ground, no matter how much it feels like a hook to flail around on.
Buzzing. Buzzing, constantly.
“Annabeth.”
Redesigning The Louvre takes concentration, and if that buzzing wouldn’t stop -
“Bananabeth. Food.” A plate appears between her face and her lead-streaked hands, piled with still-sizzling potato wedges and a veggie burger stacked coliseum-high. “Phone.” That dances on her periphery, screen lit with Luke’s name and a stack of texts. Piper’s capable brown hands tempt her back into the world of the living with even more precarious waggling. “Step away from the drafting table and join the humans in their bonding customs. You like eating and you love the human bonding customs. Come.”
The threat of salt and grease spilling onto her end of the year project pulls Annabeth from her reverie and her work, albeit with reluctance. She casts lingering glances back before accepting plate, phone, and peck from Piper before sighing and relocating to the front room. Piper leads the way with a swing in her step to pour herself into a chair, patting the one beside her in invitation.
“I thought you were a goner. Wanted to see you at least once before running off.” Propping her cheek on her hand, Piper watches her sit. Her eyes twinkle with so much affection that Annabeth can’t look at her straight.
“Where’re you going?”
“Jason’s. He’s having a crisis and needs love advice. Less talking, more eating.” Piper plucks up a potato wedge to hold near her mouth, and Annabeth rolls her eyes...but acquiesces. She’ll suffer an airplane noise or two for her relationships. In private. Having Piper take over food duty leaves her hands open to see why her phone’s been harassing her for the past however long, too.
Correction: why Luke and Percy have both been harassing her for the past hour.
SEAWEED BRAIN
annabeth i have a problem
you have fifty girlfriends
help
that’s not my problem but...
Oh gods. Annabeth rubs her temple, tipping the screen when Piper leans in to peek and accepting another potato wedge.
LUKE
I’d like to talk to you when you have a minute. If it’d be better to call, let me know.
It’s about Percy.
Don’t worry, it’s not bad. I wanted your advice. I know you’ve...
“I knew this would happen. Why are boys so hopeless?” Annabeth tries to sigh, but a potato wedge intercepts. She chews while Piper amps up her grin.
“They think you’re a goddess of wisdom, that’s all. It’s not like they’re wrong.” Sucking the grease from her fingers, Piper pauses to drop a kiss on Annabeth’s forehead before pulling out her chair. Her phone’s jangling up a storm before she’s upright. “Ugh, I gotta jet. Text me if you need anything. Screaming counts.”
“Mmhm. Thanks.”
“I love you. And don’t forget your food.”
Annabeth’s smile shrinks shy. “I won’t. I love you, too. Stay warm.” It’s worth it to abandon her plate long enough to steal a hug; Piper lights up all the way through the door, waving.
Annabeth makes a point of eating half of her burger before leaping into the fray, because she made those boys promise not to stick her in the middle of their relationship problems.
“I think he knows.” Jason pins her with a grim stare, eyebrows pinched together and back stiff despite how the couch sucks him in. He looks silly but still handsome with Leo’s legs spanning his lap.
“He thinks this guy’s Jean Grey.”
“Knows about your job?” Piper searches his face, but not before tickling Leo’s foot, earning a jerk and an affronted stare from over Leo’s 3DS. She slides him a winning smile. Jason nods.
“He asked how I met his boyfriend - Wednesday did,” and Piper bobs her head along. Even if Jason doesn’t share client details, he tells her enough about the Wednesday regular to keep tally. Him and The Tickler. “And the look on his face, it was like he was asking just to see what I’d do. I don’t want to ruin their relationship with old news. I already told him I’d stop taking his calls, and I’ve been thinking about finding a new side job if this is how it’s playing out.”
The way he straightens Leo’s pants screams ‘fretting mom’. It’s kind of adorable. Piper tucks Jason under her arm, making him hunch but prompting a shallow smile from him all the same. Her phone chirps, she and Hazel fuzzy through the speakers: ‘do-do, do-do-do - Bananabeth.’
“Jason,” she says, kissing his temple while she fishes out her phone. “If this guy’s gonna let a little phone sex ruin his relationship, Wednesday can do better. But you’re really sweet to worry about it.”
BANANABETH
Piper, I’m losing my mind. I love Percy, but he’s going to drive me nuts. Luke should know better. They’re both idiots.
Instead of talking to each other, they’ve both decided to come to ME about their relationship goals. Who does that?
Rhetorical question. Can I pawn them off on you?
“Really?”
Well, that’s easy enough to answer. “Absolutely.”
ME
i’m already juggling a boy! :P
but tell them that i told you to tell them to talk to each other.
be strong. :* if i beat reyna home i’ll shower you in kisses.
BANANABETH
I want you to know that I sighed just now. Alright. I’ll tell them. Again.
And for the record, I’ve eaten. I’ll make sure to brush my teeth before you come home.
ME
yesssss!! and you know i don’t mind seasoning. ;)
She’s officially the best girlfriend ever, sometimes, but it comes with the territory. And lots of practice. Piper ruffles Jason’s hair and scoots closer, leaning in. “So tell me more about this Wednesday guy. Is he cute?”
Jason blushes. It’s adorable.
“Um. What’re you reading?”
Thumbing his scar, Luke glances up from The Ethical Slut on his laptop. Percy’s hands curl over the back of his chair, expression scrunched while he leans further to read. Or tries to. Luke smiles.
“Homework from Annabeth. You know how she is.”
If possible, Percy’s expression warps into further disbelief, a confounded frown twisting his mouth. “She wants you to write why you should put out?”
“Nah, not quite.” Luke catches Percy for a kiss in the same motion that he closes his laptop, lingering a beat before pulling away. Even with chaos crowding his desk, there’s still room to put his computer up. When he scoots his chair in, Luke shuffles a few papers like he’s actually trying to organize, glancing to Percy with another quick smile. “I was asking her about polyamory.”
Percy looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar - or better yet, a kid caught in the middle of inhaling every cookie in sight. The round, cautious blow of his eyes fixes on Luke before Percy eases away from him in increments. There’s nothing casual about his stiff walk to hover at the edge of the desk, arms crossed and weight shifting from side to side.
“So, uh.” Percy sounds like puberty’s trying to play the violin on his vocal cords after years of trumpet lessons. The tension ebbs when Luke laughs through Percy clearing his throat. “So,” Percy says again, punchier, “uh. Just curious, or?”
“I was thinking of you. And Jason.” Luke shrugs, plucking up a pen to jiggle between his fingers. He steals snatches of Percy instead of staring. “You look like you’re...appreciating him, sometimes.”
Percy’s growing flush bleaches out, and he raises his hands with a shake of his head. “Dude, you know I wouldn’t dump you.”
“I know. I’m reading about polyamory, Perc. Annabeth can do it. I figure we could, too. If you wanted.” The end of the pen taps rat-tat-tat on the edge of the desk while Luke flicks it, the edge of his mouth twitching up at odd intervals. “But you don’t have to make up your mind now. It’s just been on my mind. Jason seems like a nice guy.”
Jason also has a nice butt, but Percy keeps that to himself. His arms cross again while he hems and haws, perching on the desk’s edge and bumping a tower of books. “Why Jason?”
Now Luke stares at him. It’s as if Percy asked why Luke thought Annabeth was smart or something, with the incredulity and tickled-pink amusement teeming through his features. Percy hunches his shoulders and bunkers down behind his arms, crossed yet again in a wall. When Luke rolls his eyes, he manages to look roguish, charming, and a little bit done.
“It’s been a few years. I think I can recognize your thirsty stare when it’s not aimed at me.”
Oh. Well.
“Can’t argue with that,” Percy finally says, cracking a smile while he shrugs.
His phone’s display reads ten minutes and running, but Jason only glances at it before returning to skimming job ads. As much as the Chipotle position makes him smile, it’s a little too much of an awkward coincidence. He skips it.
“And then what?” The voice on the line could belong to a mouse with how faint and unobtrusive it sounds, but Jason catches the breathy tell. The Tickler won’t stay on the line much longer.
“Oh, I think you know,” he purrs. “I’d bring out the feather duster while your hands were tied over your head. You wouldn’t be able to stop me from tickling your armpits in front of everyone...”
A giggle, a gasp, and the click of a dead line. The Tickler never lasts long when the feather duster comes out, though after playing through the same fantasy so many times it starts to taste stale. Could he be a receptionist? It still deals with phones and a friendly personality, technically. He saves that link for later.
By the time his next call prompt rolls in, Jason’s hoard of potential side jobs has bloomed to receptionist, customer service representative, dispatcher, operator, and a plethora of assistant positions that he could probably step into without much fuss. He glances over the specs of the call in his chat tab - Peter Johnson, M, 20s, looking to negotiate a threesome scene with bf - before accepting it with an offhand shrug to himself. His mouse returns to hovering over camboy opportunities like a fretful mother.
The phone rings once before Jason picks up, deciding to exit out of the camboy opportunities. “Hey, Peter. I hear you wanted to bring a friend tonight. What can I do to make this as hot as possible for you two?”
“Uh, well, it’s just us for now.” The voice straining through the line sounds growly, but familiar. Nervous, too. Peter clears his throat, tone dropping low. “Me and you. He - my boyfriend will be later. Coming later.”
“Oh, he’s welcome to come whenever he wants, I promise.” Jason leaves a suggestive pause, voice shaped like a smile. He ends up browsing Amazon in no time. Hadn’t Leo mentioned wanting a new end table? Something about the other one running off on him - and window shopping didn’t cost a cent. “So what do you want to do with me, Peter?”
The line falls quiet. Jason waits; sometimes his callers need to organize their thoughts. It also gives him a moment to marvel over the fact that tables exist that can scoot right up against couches. ‘Sofa side tables.’ It looks convenient.
The quiet stretches. That side table costs thirty dollars, despite how little space it takes up. Jason returns to browsing. “Peter? Still with me, babe?”
“Oh, um, yeah. Look, I...” Peter Johnson trails off, and Jason waits with a short, prompting hum. He’s still being paid by the minute. “My name isn’t Peter Johnson. It’s Percy.”
And then Percy drops the uncomfortable Christian Bale Batman voice, and yeah. It’s Percy. Jason’s attention snaps in from the computer, brows knitting tight as he turns to the phone display like a frown might cow it. The phone remains un-cowed.
“Percy.” The frown translates into Jason’s voice, instead.
Percy pauses. “Yeah?”
At least he sounds cowed. Jason rubs his hand through his hair and sighs. “I asked you not to call me at work anymore, remember? You have my cell phone number if you want to talk. And what about Luke? Please tell me you’re not trying to sneak this in.”
“What?” Nevermind; Percy doesn’t sound cowed at all. He sounds surprised and maybe a bit irritated. “No. No, I’d never do that. I just. Uh. I mean, I thought it’d be weird to call your cell for this.”
Wait. “Wait. Were you serious about wanting a phone sex threesome?”
“No!”
Jason sits up, sliding his laptop from his lap and unlooping the phone cord from around his wrist. “Then why are you calling my work number? I can’t refund you, you know.”
“Look, that doesn’t matter. The money doesn’t matter.” When Percy sighs, Jason can almost see his moody glaring. “I was just talking to Luke, and we talked about talking to you, so I called.”
For a moment, Jason quiets, pushing his glasses up to rub the sides of his nose. “Did you tell Luke about how we started talking, then?”
“No. Not really?” A pause. Not a comforting one, either. “No.”
This entire train wreck of a conversation solidifies his need for a new side job, at least. There’d be nothing uncomfortable about admitting to working as a receptionist to Percy’s boyfriend. But still. Jason draws a deep breath, counts to ten, then sets it free. “Then why’d you call me here?”
“It...I dunno, it just sounded right, okay? I wanted to ask you about dates.” In his room, Percy stares at the half-empty container of blue snickerdoodles with naked longing. If he could just stuff his face for a good few years, it’d probably save him from situations like this. Or postpone the inevitable, at least. The telltale prickle of ‘I said something dumb, I’m so fucking done’ sweat crawls across the back of his neck, and Percy itches it away while he clears his throat anew. “I wanted to ask you on dates. With me. And Luke. Like, three-way dates.”
Every second that Jason holds his answer slithers around in Percy’s skull like a live thing. Possessed kelp. Ancient, evil seaweed. He wouldn’t doubt it - but when Jason puts him out of that misery, he still wields his enunciation like an instrument of slow torture. “You called my work number. To pay money. To ask me on a date with you and Luke?”
“Yeah.”
“You and Luke want to date me? This isn’t some sex thing?”
Percy wants to stuff cookies into Jason’s mouth for the dirty implication, but placates himself by filling his own pie hole, instead. “Yes to dating,” he grumbles around a bite. “At least, I want to if you want to. I think Luke wants to. It was his idea. And no, it’s not a sex thing. I’m not some kind of creep.” He stuffs another cookie into his mouth for good measure, dragging the container over when he leans to reach in.
“Okay,” Jason finally says, and Percy struggles to swallow. “I’d...I mean, one date wouldn’t hurt. When and where?”
“G’on,” Percy chokes, and drops the phone from his ear to scramble for his water bottle. After washing down all of the sugar and disbelief, he thumps his chest a few hard times and rearranges the phone back against his ear.
“You okay over there?”
Jason totally agreed to a date. Percy nods and licks his lips, then waves his hand out in front of him as if to cut Jason off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Um. Hang on.” In a moment of blind stupidity, he starts looking for his cell phone, thinking of texting Luke when it hits him. Right. He stares at the splayed claw of his free hand in the air before closing it into a fist and bumping his forehead. “I can - just let me text you later, okay? I’ll talk to Luke and we can all figure something out.”
“Ah, okay. That sounds fine.”
“Yeah.”
“So you don’t want the next extension?”
“What?” Percy’s nose wrinkles, then smooths again. “No. Jeeze. I’m hanging up.”
Jason sounds like a shrug. “Okay. Text you later.”
“Yeah. Seeya.”
Jason lingers on the line. Percy lingers too, before he catches the beginning of a snicker from Jason; then he fumbles his phone to end the call with a red-eared huff.
PERCY
u. m.e. luke.
6pm next wed
chipotle
???
ME
Oh my god.
Jason snorts, but knows he’ll agree.