Chapter one of my PJO Gelato!AU I haven't written for PJO before, so let me know how I did! :) Hope you enjoy!
Kairos
Chapter One
Working at a New York ice cream shop in the middle of Winter, Percy decides, is a hell of a lot like watching paint dry. It's, well boring, for lack of a better word. No one ever comes into the shop at this time of year—because who really wants to order ice cream when it's negative digits outside and your fingers feel like they're going to freeze and fall off? Not Percy, that's who! Not anyone actually. Well, other than that weird kid—Will or Wallace or whatever his name is—that comes in every day at four o'clock sharp and buys pear and blue cheese gelato—which, eww? Why would anyone want to order freaking pear and blue cheese gelato? That's actually the most disgusting thing he's ever heard of. Percy doesn't even know why they keep that in stock. It's probably that Will—Walt? Walsh?—kid's fault, he's the only one that ever orders the damn stuff.
One waffle cone of pear and blue cheese gelato. Without fail. Every. Damn. Day.
Pear and blue cheese.
Why does that even exist? Who in their right mind thought that would be an okay ice cream flavor? Who seriously sat down and thought that people would enjoy that? Freaking Ben and Jerry that's who. Those assholes. A million god damn flavor combinations they could make and they choose pear and blue fucking cheese.
Anyway, yeah. Working at an ice cream shop in the middle of Winter is like watching paint dry, only a lot colder and quite a bit messier thanks to Jason I-fall-down-a-lot Grace and his two left feet. Jason's situation is kind of strange. He's one of the better players on the football team in the fall and he plays soccer in the spring—is the team's captain actually—but as soon as you take him off the field he turns into a baby deer that can't stop tripping over it's too long legs. Kind of like Bambi. Adorable, but kind of a safety hazard. The Jason situation would probably be funny, too, if Percy wasn't the one that had to clean up after him every time he broke something.
And the day's been slow. Like, criminally slow. Like, so slow that Percy is getting paid to sit on his ass and watch Netflix on his phone for the majority of his shift. The shop has been open since seven, and since Percy started his shift at noon the only customers have been a couple of high school kids skipping class (they shoved a five in the tip jar when Percy gave them a look, and he wonders if it's morally wrong that his silence can be bought for only five dollars), a clearly exasperated father and his three children, all of which were clearly under the age of ten (Percy gave him an extra scoop of double chunk chocolate and the man's smile seemed to become a little more genuine after that), and a man wearing a banana costume that ordered a banana split and walked away giggling.
Sometime between the exhausted dad and the giggly banana man, Travis joined him up front at the counter, texting someone rapidly and grinning like an idiot when they responded. Percy didn't ask who he was talking to. Partly because he really didn't care, and partly because if Travis got arrested for something, Percy couldn't be charged with aiding and abetting a criminal. Recently, Travis begun constructing what looks like a castle made out of cheap plastic ice cream bowls and colorful popsicle sticks, as Percy moved on to some weird nature documentary he needed to watch for his philosophy course.
Everything is fine. The shop is quiet, Grover is taking inventory in the back, Percy is actually enjoying a learning experience, and Nico, Jason, and Connor are entering the shop to start their afterschool shift, disappearing into the back to put on their uniforms with greetings ranging in enthusiasm (Connor vaults over the counter and slaps Percy on the back, Jason gives him a wide grin, and Nico just scowls at the classy black vest in his hands as Jason drags the younger boy into the back). The snow has stopped, the birds are chirping, and Percy has made enough tips to pick up a large pizza—maybe even two pizzas—on his way back to the dorms. Life is good. Everything is great.
And then Travis Stoll stops making his popsicle stick castle and opens his big mouth.
Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut as he pauses his documentary and wishes Travis had just kept his mouth shut for once.
"Hey, Percy?" he starts casually, fiddling with a purple popsicle stick and acting all too nonchalant. Travis isn't nonchalant. He's the exact opposite of nonchalant. Travis is a prankster and a pickpocket, and the only time he acts casual is when he wants something or something green and gooey is about to explode.
Percy side-eyes him, hands clenching just a little bit tighter as Travis begins to pick at his nails. He glances Travis up and down, looking for anything that might give him away. His left leg is jiggling against his stool, practically trembling, rather than bouncing normally.
His lips twist down in a grimace. That's not an I've-just-pranked-someone leg jiggle. The I've-just-pranked-someone leg jiggle is less of a jiggle and more or a legs-swinging-in-absolute-glee-as-I-wait-for-someone-to-get-punked.
So, he's probably not going to be covered in some strange viscous material, at least, not here at work. That means it's the other thing. Travis wants something, and frankly that's probably worse. At least if Percy's covered in green goo he gets to go home early and skip out on the last half of his shift. If Travis wants something, that means Percy's going to be here for a while.
He rolls his eyes as he realizes what Travis wants. The same thing Travis always wants. And Percy isn't falling for it again. "Nope," he tells Travis, not bothering to look at him. He won't be tricked again. He will not be tricked into staying in this ice cream shop all damn night. Not this time. "I don't wanna work the late shit for you again so that you can go fail at flirting with Katie Gardner."
The first time Percy met Katie Gardner, he accidentally stepped on one of her newly planted flower beds when he was in a hurry to get to class and she screamed at him for twenty minutes about how it's "people like you that are destroying the environment!" He was too embarrassed to go to class, so he ended up sulking here at the shop until almost midnight because he was afraid she would still be out there.
At least he and Katie have worked out their differences and get along now. Travis? Travis is a completely different story. He openly antagonizes Katie. Pranking her and decorating her dorm room flower-box with chocolate bunnies on Easter. Apparently, it's some kind of weird, longstanding rivalry between the two that's been going on since they were only in high school.
The way Percy sees it, Travis is kind of like a middle school boy that teases the girl he likes, completely inept, but at least he's trying! Though, Percy doesn't understand why Travis would go out of his way to incur the wrath of Katie Gardner.
Travis, he decides, is a masochist.
He glances at a sputtering Travis, whose blue eyes have gone wide, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he stares back at Percy, aghast. "Wha—what?" he sputters, shoving his messy chestnut hair out of his eyes. "Me?" Travis scoffs. "Why would you think I was going to ask something like that? I would never!" He places a hand on his chest, looking at Percy like he'd just offended his grandmother. "Also I am not failing at flirting with Katie!" he tacks on as an afterthought, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yes, you are!" someone shouts from the back, voice muffled by the wall. A second voice snickers in response to the first, but Percy can't tell who. Probably Connor. It's usually Connor
Travis gasps, and whirls around on his spinning stool, glaring at the back room. His hand flies up, an accusing finger pointing towards the invisible culprit. "No one asked you, di Angelo!"
He spins back around just as quickly, looking at Percy with wide, pleading eyes.
Percy doesn't fall for it.
He's already shaking his head by the time Travis looks at him. "No," he repeats, setting down his phone and crossing his arms. "You've tricked me into working the late shift for you five times in the past two months," he reminds Travis, glaring at him halfheartedly. "I'm not doing it again!"
Travis whistles, laughing lightly. "Five times? Really?" he snickers.
Percy's frown deepens as he rolls his eyes. "Yes."
Travis's gives him a grin that's more teeth than anything else, and Percy is suddenly reminded of a wolf. A brunette wolf that Percy kind of wants to strangle.
"Doesn't that say a little bit more about you than it does about me, though?" Travis asks him, smiling wider.
Would he be fired if he just picked up Travis, brought him outside, and tossed him in the dumpster where he belongs? Probably not, actually. Chiron is a pretty cool boss, so Percy could totally get away with it. He could just lie about it, too. Say a strange, masked man swooped in and grabbed Travis before Percy could stop him. The others would back him up.
Though, Chiron would definitely be disappointed in him. And if there's one thing Percy hates, it's disappointing the people he cares about. Chiron would be all "you're the manager, Percy" and "you've got to be more responsible, Percy" and "I trusted you, Percy." Well Percy didn't even want to be the manager, so there! He can barely take care of himself, let alone two pickpockets, a golden boy, and a Goth kid that keeps badgering him about a slam poetry night—because, dammit, Nico! This is an ice cream shop! Take your damn slam poetry somewhere else!
Percy's glare intensifies. "I'm not working the late shift again," he says firmly. "Go ask someone else."
Like Piper. Or Thalia. Or Bianca! You know, the other three people that are supposed to work at Kairos, but are never here. Yeah, those people.
Travis huffs, groaning and falling forward onto the counter, reminding Percy of a dying walrus or a beached whale.
"Oh, come on, Percy! Please? She's going to say yes to a date this time, I can feel it!" Travis pleads, giving him a pouty look that Percy doesn't trust for a second. The one and only time he trusted that look, he ended up covered in peanut butter and streaking through the streets of Manhattan.
Yeah, he's not falling for that again.
"That's what you said the last three times!"
Travis's forehead thumps against the counter. "But, Percy—" he starts to whine, only be cut off by the front door opening the little bell over the door chiming obnoxiously.
A tall figure steps into the shop, covered from head to toe in so much winter gear that Percy is vaguely reminded of a marshmallow. A shivering, six-and-a-half feet tall marshmallow.
Travis glances at the figure, disinterested, and finally goes back to messing with his popsicle sticks, going cross-eyed as he tries to balance one precariously on the bridge of his nose. It's not working, of course but it makes for an interesting sight.
Percy glances back at the customer, making sure they aren't looking before his arm shoots out and whaps Travis on the side of the head. The popsicle stick flies off his nose and audibly skitters across the floor of the now silent shop, and Travis loses his balance and tumbles off his stool onto the floor.
He glares up at Percy, but otherwise doesn't move.
That's fine. Travis can just stay down there. It's not like he was really helping to man the counter anyway. Percy glances at the popsicle stick castle, then decides to just ignore that too.
The giant marshmallow man is still hovering near the front door, now wrestling with his absurdly long scarf—seriously the thing has to be at least seven feet long. Who the hell needs a scarf that's that long?
While the man takes his time, Percy decides to rehearse his greeting in his head. Maybe something like—
"Welcome to Kairos! Please keep your hands and feet on your side of the counter at all times! Also, please note that the Stolls will probably steal your wallet and Jason might accidentally drop your ice cream on your shoes and then, while apologizing to you profusely, he might trip over himself and end up falling onto our tray of free samples here on the counter! Then, I'll get yelled at by my boss and have to work overtime to pay for any damages caused! How may I help you?"
—yeah, maybe he should skip the greeting.
The walking marshmallow finally frees himself from his scarf prison, and Percy realizes he knows the guy.
Christopher Rodriguez blinks back at him from across the shop, raising a hand in a quick wave as he shivers and tugs his jacket tighter around him. His dark hair is windblown beneath his hat, messy curls looking a bit frozen at the tips, and he's struggling to pull off his mittens. His dark eyes narrow at the cloth covering his hands, before finally ripping them off with his teeth.
Now, Percy doesn't know Chris all that well. Just that he's not originally from New York and moved to the city about four years ago from one of the warmer states down in the South West—Texas, maybe? New Mexico?—and that he's dating Percy's former nemesis, Clarisse la Rue.
Percy and Clarisse have since come to an understanding—and have even become friends, sort of. It's more of a friendly rivalry than anything else. Clarisse doesn't try to kill him anymore, so that's good—but he'll never forget the time in freshman year when Clarisse shoved his head in a toilet.
"Oh, hey, Chris," he greets awkwardly, giving a short wave at the newcomer. "What are you doing here?" Percy asks, receiving a strange look from Chris. Just as quickly as the words leave his mouth, Percy winces, feeling like slapping himself at the stupid question. He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. "Never mind, this is an ice cream shop, why else would you be here."
Chris simply nods in reply, then steps up to the counter quietly.
If he sees Travis pouting on the floor, he chooses not to mention it.
"So," Percy starts slowly, wondering if he's supposed to actually make conversation. It seems like the polite thing to do. He and Chris aren't exactly strangers, hell, Percy might even consider the other guy his friend, but Chris has never really seemed like one for conversation. He's always been quiet like that. Always there, but seemingly off in his own world.
He clears his throat. "You're pretty bundled up there," he notes. "Is it really that cold today?"
Chris sends him what Percy thinks might be an exasperated look and the tension leaves him, Chris suddenly looking much more comfortable in the shop.
He shrugs, sending Percy a small grin. "I'm from Arizona," he says, "it's always cold here." He makes a face at that, and Percy laughs.
"Right," he snickers. "So, ice cream!" He points at Chris. "The usual? Or are you feeling adventurous today?" he jokes, hoping he isn't overstepping some boundary. Clarisse would kill him if he did.
Chris suddenly turns bright red, and this time it's not because of the cold. "Umm," he clears his throat, embarrassed as he sputters a bit. "Well, it's not really for me." He shrugs, and Percy's head tilts to the side in confusion. "It's, well, it's for Clarisse," he finally babbles out. "It's, you know, that time of the month," he finishes quietly.
"Oh," is Percy's oh so intelligent response to that tidbit of information. (Because how else is he supposed to reply? Is he supposed to apologize? No, that seems like a bad idea on so many levels, Chris isn't the one that's bleeding—and he should stop right there.) Wow, umm, okay. He, umm, didn't need to know that. He really didn't need to know that.
"Aww!" Travis suddenly gushes from his sprawled position on the floor, sending Chris a toothy grin. "It's adorable that you're buying your girlfriend period ice cream, Chris! It really is!" Travis shoots Chris a double thumbs up and wiggles his eyebrows. Percy kind of wants to kick him while he's down. "Rackin' in the points! Or is she making you do it?" he asks, quirking a brow.
Chris looks like he wants to crawl under a rock and die, and Percy kind of wants to do the exact same thing.
The other male clears his throat, rubbing the back of his head and looking down at his shoes, the snow from his boots melting into a puddle beneath him.
Yeah, Percy can't wait to clean that up.
"It's a surprise…" Christ tells them, trailing off awkwardly.
Travis whoops from the floor. " 'Atta boy!" he shouts, cackling. "You're the true MVP here, Chris!" he gushes, making Chris turn even more red. Travis doesn't stop though, he just keeps babbling incoherently about Chris being a "super great guy!" Which just makes Chris more and more uncomfortable.
Percy rolls his eyes, wondering if Travis is just fooling around, but then he catches the wistful look on his friend's face, and the smile on his lips. For a split second, he even reconsiders taking the late shift.
He looks back at Chris, deciding to ignore the love guru on the floor. "Ignore him," he says, kicking Travis in the leg. The other man yelps and kicks back, but misses. "Peach right?" he asks Chris, who nods. "All right, I'll be right back."
Percy smiles at Chris one last time, then glares down at Travis, who merely blinks back. "And you? Shut up and go clean a table or something! Stop harassing our customers!" he hisses, heading to the back.
"But, Percy!" Travis calls after him. "Chris and I are friends! Aren't we, Chris?"
Chris doesn't respond.
Percy shakes his head as disappears through the archway leading into the back half of the shop, laughing lightly as he does.
For the most part, he isn't surprised by what he sees when he enters the back. Grover is pretending to do inventory, but is really just curled up between two large tubs of vanilla gelato, his phone shoved in his grinning face, Rasta cap nearly falling off his head. Jason is arguing with Nico, who doesn't want to put on the uniform vest, despite working here for nearly a year, and Connor is laughing at them, vest buttoned haphazardly.
Surprisingly, the back isn't a complete disaster like it usually is at this point. Yet. There's still time for Jason to break something or Nico to deck Connor and knock over an entire shelf of gelato. Or, maybe Grover will start another damn fire like last time. Percy has no idea how that even happened, but it took a week to clean up the back.
Nothing's happened yet, but it will. Something always happens, without fail. It's just a matter of when and how at this point.
Three heads snap his way when he enters the back, and Percy freezes, wondering if he should have sent Travis back instead. But no. Travis would just make things worse. He would add fuel to the fire and then suddenly there would be fighting and police and they would all be hauled away by the NYPD—and Percy cannot be arrested again. Not now.
And then suddenly everyone's yelling and Percy feels like his head is going to explode.
"Percy! Nico won't put on his vest!" Jason shouts, pointing an accusing finger in Nico's direction, then shooting a glare at the younger boy, who sends back a poisonous look.
Nico practically growls. "Would you stop trying to make me wear the damn vest?" he snarls back. "I don't want to wear it, Jason! It's itchy and it makes me look like a nerd!"
"It's a uniform! You have to wear it!" Jason argues back. "That's the whole point of a uniform! God, you do this everyday! Why can't you just make this easy for all of us?!"
Connor just keeps cackling.
This is all way above Percy's pay grade.
Nico opens his mouth to snap something back, and Percy decides that now is a good time to cut in. You know, before an all out brawl starts and they all end up fired.
"All right, that's enough," Percy breaks in loudly, crossing his arms and glaring at the three boys, lips twisting into a frown. The effect of bringing out "Serious Percy" is instantaneous: Connor shuts up, the smile slipping from his lips, Nico looks away, running a hand through his hair—a nervous tick, and Jason's gaze drops to his shoes. Even Grover stops staring at his phone to glance at Percy, worry in his eyes.
Percy squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. He doesn't like this side of himself—doesn't like yelling at them and being the bad guy, but someone's got to.
He sighs heavily, running a hand through his dark hair and opening his eyes to see three pairs of wide eyes staring back at him. "Connor," the boy snaps to attention at the sound of his name, "go out front and help your brother clean the tables, and keep him away from the customers." The boy gives a solute and a wink before darting out to the front. "Nico," he turns to the next boy, "please, just put on the vest." Nico shoots him a sour look, but finally complies, finally yanking off his sweatshirt and reaching for his uniform shirt with a sulky expression. "And Jason," Percy meets a pair of wide, blue eyes and sighs again. "Just don't break anything."
Jason nods and disappears, off to organize something in the back. Or maybe grab more spoons. Something safe that won't allow Jason to accidentally destroy something.
Percy rubs a tired hand down his face, walking over to the peach ice cream off to Grover's right, nudging his friends leg with his foot as he passes. Grover reaches out from his hiding spot and whacks Percy's leg in response, grumbling something under his breath that Percy ignores.
He grabs a take away bowl from the cabinet about Grover, who makes a face at him when Percy glances down. "What?" he asks, laughing slightly at the disgust on Grover's face.
"Peach ice cream is so weird," he murmurs back, wrinkling his nose.
Percy rolls his eyes. "It's better than freaking Wallace and his stupid pear and blue cheese concoction from Hell," he snarks back, opening the tub and grabbing a scoop.
"Will."
"Hmm?" Percy glances up from the peach ice cream, pausing mid scoop. Nico is standing in the archway, looking back at him. "What was that, Nico?"
The younger boy shrugs nonchalantly. "Will," he repeats. "His name is Will, not Wallace." He turns on his heel and disappears from the room.
Percy merely shrugs and goes back to scooping Clarisse's peach ice cream into a blue, plastic take away container. By the time he's done, Grover is back to being engrossed in his phone, a dopey smile on his face that can only mean he's been texting Juniper all afternoon.
"So," he starts slowly, putting a cover on the bowl before closing the ice cream tub. Grover peaks up at him briefly, but that's all. "Are you going to come up front, or continue to sit back here and pretend to take inventory for the rest of the night?" he asks his friend jokingly, nudging him again.
Grover rolls his eyes. "I am taking inventory," Grover huffs. Percy quirks a brow at him, glancing at Grover's little blanket cocoon between the ice cream tubs, and Grover blushes crossing his arms as his phone vibrates in his hand.
"Yeah," Percy agrees, "inventory of what Juniper's wearing," he finishes slyly.
Grover sputters. "I am not sexting Juniper!" he shouts, then winces at his volume and lowers his voice. Percy really hopes that no one out front heard that. "Percy, I'm not sexting Juniper! You can't just say things like that!"
Percy laughs. "I didn't say you were sexting Juniper, Grover," he reminds him. And technically it's true. Percy didn't say anything about sexting, just a mild insinuation that could or could not have been taken in the direction Grover took it. That's all.
"You implied it," his friend scoffs back, pointedly ignoring his buzzing phone.
Percy grins. "Actually I was implying that Juniper has been showing you possible date night outfits for the past hour, but hey! You're the one with the dirty mind!" he teases, laughing at his friend's flustered expression.
"I hate you."
He laughs again. "Love you, too, Grover," he coos back, ruffling his friend's curly hair. Grover glares up at him as he fixes his hat. "So are coming out front?" he asks, already knowing the answer. Grover never likes to come out front, not unless it's before or after hours.
"Nah," he shrugs. "You seem to have it covered," he laughs, though it sounds weak. "You're the charismatic one, Percy," he finishes almost bitterly, smile dampening. Then, he glances up with a smile, whacking Percy's shin. "Besides, someone has to watch Jason."
Percy decides not to comment on the charisma remark. Or about how Grover isn't exactly sitting back here and watching Jason. He'll let Grover be, at least for today. There's enough of them working for Grover to stay in the back, after all.
He nods at Grover, patting him on the shoulder before heading back to the front. And everything seems all right again. Connor and Travis are both wiping down the booths, Nico is filling plastic containers with napkins and spoons, and Chris is right where Percy left him, though looking much more comfortable without Travis gushing at him about who knows what.
"Here you go, Chris!" He smiles, handing over the ice cream container. "I went with a large because, well, yeah. I hope that's okay." He probably should have asked first, but oh well. Chris doesn't really seem to mind as he simply nods, and hands over a ten, telling Percy to keep the change before he turns on his heel and leaves, winding his long scarf back around him before disappearing out the door.
Percy takes a slow look around the room, gaze drifting over his coworkers languidly, smiling as Connor swats at Travis with a wet rag, which smacks his bother across the mouth with a wet "plop." Working at a New York ice cream shop in the middle of Winter, Percy decides, is a hell of a lot better than watching paint dry. Because at least he has good company.
Percy grins and is just about to agree to take the late shift for Travis when a horrible crashing sound comes from the back, like a million tubs of ice cream have just fallen down and splattered across the floor that Percy had just washed an hour ago. That clean, white floor that Percy wipes down every other hour so that it stays spotless. That floor.
And it's probably covered in fifty flavors of ice cream.
"Uh, Percy!" a nervous Jason calls from the back, voice quivering just the slightest.
On second thought, he'd rather be watching paint dry.
AN: Both Annabeth and Will should appear in the next few chapters, though I can;t say for sure when! This will probably be slow burn, so please keep that in mind! I'm thinking that most of this story will be from Percy's (3rd person) perspective, though I might try my hand at writing from Nico's as well. I'd love to hear what you guys have to say, so be sure to drop a review before you go!