Why, hello, there. Come, read a fanfiction.

Before we start, though, you should know some things:

1) This story involves some lovely lovings between two guys. You have been warned, feel free to press the back button, no, I'm not gay and you are not homophobic. That's just the way it is. As a side-note, I send all flames to Leo Valdez, aww yiss.

2) This fandom is in dire need of more supporters. I don't care if it's Percy/Nico, Jason/Percy, het pairings, whatever. We just need some more lovely authors posting some more lovely stories about our lovely Greek - and Roman - heroes. Please, write something. Do it for me, do it for Percy Jackson.

Do it for Festus.

This is a (very) belated birthday present for Derpina, my fellow writer, and it's also a pick-me-up after today's horrendous physics paper. We're both absolutely finished.

This is set during Mark of Athena, but as you will see, I've tweaked some minor details to suit my story. Not too sure where it's going, but I promise I'll plan it out nicely when exams are over.

Disclaimer: All Percy Jackson characters belong to the marvelous Rick Riordan. If I owned the series, I wouldn't be a 16 year old sitting at home reading a series initially aimed at 12 year olds.

Enjoy. Feel free to drop a line, tell me if you'd like to see more.

Derpette

"Jason Grace, you sly dog."

Fumbling with the door's lock, Jason threw a small glare at the half-Latino leaning casually against the wall beside him. The praetor's lock jiggling efforts were finally rewarded when the sound of a metal bolt sliding into place echoed through the cabin.
Then there was silence. Jason turned to look at his best friend through the darkness of the room, the only light breaking through the cosy gloom being the daylight filtering in through a small porthole in the opposite wall.

Considering the blonde demigod had all but carried him to Leo's room and thrown him in, Leo looked impressively impassive; his stance was totally relaxed against the wall, his arms crossed in a way that suggested complete indifference and his lips quirked up in what might have been a teasing smile. His dark eyes watched Jason carefully from beneath the wild tangle of curls he insisted was hair.

What really irked Jason, however, was the somewhat torn up t-shirt that the younger boy was wearing. The one with words such as "TEAM LEO," "HOT STUFF" and "BAD BOYS RULE" written all over it.
And don't forget the marks of a lipsticky kiss on his cheek. Boy, was that irksome.

"You know, I wonder what the others thought when they saw you dragging me along like that, to your room no less...they might have gotten the wrong idea," chirped the son of Hephaestus with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. "What if PIPER, gods forbid, had been around, eh?"

If he wasn't mistaken, Jason's cheeks seemed to grow dark at Leo's words. Jason Grace, blushing?
Hey, it's dark in here, Leo thought. Who could really be sure about what he's seeing, anyway?

Flustered expressions aside, Leo had to admit that he was more than a little curious to find out what had caused the son of Jupiter's totally unexpected reaction. Leo had barely been aboard the Argo II five minutes following his and Hazel's narrow escape from the boy-crazed nymphs, when the blonde son of Jupiter had marched up to him with a storm raging in his blue eyes and electricity literally sparking from his fingertips.

Leo could sense danger better than anyone. More specifically, he could sense when he was in danger because someone else wanted to kill him. This, he reckoned, he owed to his astounding ability to annoy; after all, he generally managed to piss off both demigods and monsters alike.
So having someone charging at him with a murderous glint in their eyes was nothing new - having it be Jason, however, his surrogate family, for gods' sake, was.

Usually, Leo is also very good at getting out of dangerous situations. Hey, he gets enough practice running away from those people who want to kill him, so why shouldn't he be?

But out-running someone who can fly? Well, that's a little too much to ask for. Not even his beloved tool belt could've helped him out with that.
And fire was definitely out of the question. Not on his warship, nuh-uh, and not ever to harm others, especially his friends, no matter how likely they were to throttle him when they caught up with him.
Ouch. He might have to rethink that last part after the disastrous kamikaze stunt he'd pulled back at the Roman camp. Even if he was 100% sure he had been controlled by someone or something during the attack on their Roman rivals, the others didn't seem so sure. Thinking about having potentially lost his only friends' trust stung like salt being rubbed into a fresh, open wound, so he pulled his thoughts back to the present.
Truthfully? He'd have plenty time to dwell over that later.

Anyway, Jason had pretty much succeeded in dragging him away, much to the bewilderment (and slight amusement) of Hazel, Frank, and Percy. The two had been standing on the deck with that troublesome, half-finished shield of imperial gold relinquished from Narcissus, with the sons of Pluto and Poseidon there to welcome them back. They had been questioning Leo about his strange new make-over, Arion leaning over Hazel's shoulder, trying his damnedest to sneak a bite of that delicious gold, when Jason had showed up on the deck of Leo's ship.

Hazel had raised her hand in a hesitant half-wave as the fire wielder disappeared into the hull of the ship, his outraged protests in both English and Spanish fading as Jason lead him away with an iron grip on his shirt. Leo swore he was going to maim Percy for that wide, shit-eating grin - once he'd faced Jason's wrath, of course.

Pikachu's cousin seemed to have calmed down, though, if at least for now. He slowly moved to stand in front of the son of Hephaestus, folding his arms and mirroring the pose of the smaller boy, a stern expression on his face.
Deep blue eyes raked over the half-Latino, taking in Leo's shredded Team Leo t-shirt, his hair greased back with - really, Leo? - actual grease, the worrisome self-induced marker tattoos and, what bothered him the most (for some as-of-yet unknown reason), the lipstick remains of a kiss on Leo's caramel skinned cheek.

Jason didn't understand why it annoyed him so much - even more than Leo did sometimes - but he kept his face blank, intent on simply staring the boy down.

It's suffice to say that Jason's actions gave Leo enough cause to expect loud and angry ranting from the son of Jupiter (although about what, he was not really sure - hadn't Jason already promised that he didn't blame Leo for the stray brick that had flown into his face that morning?). The unyielding silence, strangely enough, only served to make Leo uncomfortable, probably more so, perhaps, than if Jason had yelled at him. At least if that had been the case, he'd know what he'd done wrong.
Besides, y'know, causing a war between the two camps that were vital towards fulfilling the prophecy that determined the fate of the world. Yeah.

Leo shifted his weight from one leg to the other and stared back at Jason uneasily. He wanted to say something, but honestly? The whole situation confused him. Was he mad about the mini-quest for lime and gold? Leo had gone out with Hazel, as planned, retrieved the building materials they needed, as planned, and had returned home (mostly) unscathed thereafter, (mostly) as planned. Those nymphs? Far from life threatening, unless you counted those long, manicured and razor sharp nails (well, they'd seemed pretty harmless, what with their petty fawning over Mr. Dear-gods-but-I'm-hot).

Leo had done nothing to jeopardise the quest, or the safety of the others. The only worrying part of the whole expedition had been their encounter with Nemesis. For a brief moment, Leo fervently hoped that Hazel wouldn't recount the goddess' speech about him never fitting in to any of the others. A seventh wheel, Nemesis had called him. He couldn't help the nagging feeling that if any of the others knew that, they might really start treating him as an outsider, as if Nemesis' words might spur them into fully believing that Leo didn't belong. Heck, they were already halfway there. After how the day had gone, they had no reason not to be.

Suddenly the overwhelming mix of loneliness, confusion and a deep, far-reaching hurt that burned steadily in his chest - one fire that could actually burn him - as well as the silence of Jason, his best friend, maybe even his last friend, became too much to bear. He tore his eyes away from the other demigod's and stared at the floor, feeling as if his gaze could burn right through the metal. "What is it, Jason Grace? What have I done now? Please, enlighten me, because I truly have no idea."

Had Leo been looking, he would've seen the blonde's eyes widen marginally at the outburst.
Then Jason took a breath and spoke. "Leo, why in Jupiter's name would you risk your life for something so trivial as gold? You could've been killed; if not by those nymphs, then by Narcissus himself. Why didn't you and Hazel come back to the ship? We could've sent more of us with you two."

His voice betrayed no emotion; at this moment, his tone was very much that of the authoritative leader of the group; of the praetor. His words, on the other hand, surprised Leo so much that the boy's head shot up. "My life? In danger?" Leo spluttered. "Jason, you did not see those clowns. Hazel and I were perfectly fine. We even met a nymph who helped us, her name was Ech-"

Jason's hand slammed against the wall, right beside Leo's head, causing the smaller boy to flinch. He held it there, as if caging Leo in. "Fine? You really think that?" The blonde spat. This time his words were heated, his voice lower, his expression more dangerous. He leaned closer and grabbed a fistful of Leo's shredded shirt. "If you were fine, you wouldn't have nearly been ripped to pieces."

Leo's felt his face warm slightly at how close Jason was to him, but he gave a nonchalant shrug and said, "Hey, can't blame the chicas for wanting a small slice of Leo Valdez, can you?"

Jason's eyes, almost as dark a blue as the twilight sky, bore into Leo's. Now, thought Leo a little anxiously, Jason was mad. The realisation made his heart beat just a tiny bit faster.
"So, the tattoos, the shirt and the hair...all of it was for those nymphs?"
Leo swallowed. Was it just him, or had Jason's face gotten closer? He cleared his throat and although it still felt as if something was stuck in it, he managed a dry comeback. "Yeah, well, I had to up my swag a bit if I was gonna distract the star-struck groupies. Nothing like a bit of Leo to get their attention."

Jason smiled, but it wasn't a very happy smile. It looked more like a pained grimace. "So, they were the ones who gave you this?" He asked, releasing Leo's shirt and placing his thumb just under the lipstick mark.
"Wha...?" It took Leo a moment to remember. Then his cheeks warmed again. "O-oh, yeah, well, like I said, they couldn't resist me, el chico atractivo que soy. It's that fiery Hispanic in me. Hah."

Jason scowled, pulled back and looked over Leo once more, who in turn sighed. "Look, man, I'm sorry. I swear I'll be more careful next time. Even if I'm up against a guy whose looks are sharper than his archery skills. I'll be super alert, no matter what."
After a moment, the frown slid from Jason's neck and he stepped back, seemingly once again his slightly awkward, apologetic self. Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, "Thanks, Leo, and sorry about the lecture. Just be careful; we can't afford to lose anyone."

Leo grinned up at the blonde demigod and quipped, "Roger that, sir. Maximum security at all times." Then the grin faded slightly and Leo added more seriously, "And, uh, thanks for caring, I guess. You make a great leader, Jay - don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He hoped his friend could hear the absolute sincerity in his voice.
Jason answered with a small smile, and the two stood in silence for a moment. Not awkward, nuh-uh; Leo always had something to say when things were uncomfortable. This...this, well, wasn't.

Leo stretched his arms in front of him and rolled his shoulders, giving an exaggerated yawn before he turned away to the door. "Well, guess I'd better go and clean myself up." He opened the lock and looked back, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Oh, and Jay, next time you want to talk, you don't have to lock the door. I promise I won't run away."

Jason gave a sort of half-smile, one corner of his mouth turned upwards and a dimple showing just above it, his cheeks tinged red, and for some reason he didn't quite understand, Leo's heart jumped at the sight before him; the one of his best friend smiling at him. Then Jason's blue eyes narrowed and he looked both irritated and confused. Before Leo knew what was happening, Jason had reached the door where Leo stood in two long strides, grabbed Leo's jaw and angled the boy's face up towards himself, much to the son of Hephaestus' surprise. Leo usually forgot how much shorter he was than the blonde demigod until he was standing right next to him, craning his neck up to look at his friend. At this moment, Leo's head was tilted so far back he might as well have been staring at the ceiling.

"Uhh, Jay, what are you-"
Jason licked the thumb of his other hand and swiped it over Leo's now burning red cheek, wiping away the lipstick until all traces of it had vanished. When he was satisfied, he released his grip on the younger boy's chin and neck and ruffled his dark curls.
Leo stared up at him, with large, incredulous eyes, trying to control the blood rushing to his face. Like Festus, his brain circuitry had been totally frozen - or fried, if the heat boiling just under the surface of his skin was anything to go by.
Jason smiled and pushed a few stray curls away from the younger boy's eyes. "Make-up doesn't suit you at all, Leo. I don't like it on you."

And with these words to baffle Leo even more, Jason left the cabin and the demigod son of Hephaestus, who let out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding, and wondered if he looked as stunned as he felt. With amazement, and more than a little embarrassment, he placed his palms on his cheeks and felt the heat practically steaming off of his skin. He saw small flames that were growing from his fingertips, which at any other time might have amused him, and he thought, did Jason just cause that?
What was that, even? What just happened?

And more importantly, why did the memory of Jason's touch against the bare skin of his face make his heart jump into his throat?

After showering and dressing in clothing with no rips or Team Leo slogans, Leo mused once again over the odd conversation with Jason, and, strangely enough, his thoughts strayed to his old babysitter/the queen of the gods. Eventually, Leo's muddled mind came to a conclusion: the one good thing about Tía Callida? She'd taught him how to cope with being thrown out of the frying pan and - figuratively and quite literally - into the fire.

And Jason?
Well, maybe Leo could find a way to tame that flame, too.

Dios mío...

Thanks for reading, chicas (and maybe some chicos), until next time.

Derpette x