Excuse me while I casually write a short reminding this entire fandom of the mother of The Heroes of Olympus series and why Percy Jackson is not, in fact, a self-centered jerk whose flustered response to Nico's sudden confession comes from a ridiculous need to "be his type."

I won't say you're not entitled to your opinion, but…c'mon, guys. Seriously?

Without further ado, "Not His Type."

Two days into forced bedrest, NICO DI ANGELO gets a visitor. Instead of them embarrassing him or ticking him off, he finds new, less romantic reasons to respect his childhood hero.

All rights go to Rick Riordan, Hyperion Books Inc., and the other owners of referenced copyrighted works.

"Friendship is born at the moment one person says to another, 'What? You too? I thought I was the only one!'" - C.S. Lewis

NICO ENTERTAINED HIMSELF BY THROWING A BALL INTO THE AIR IDLY. It made no sound when it impacted his palm. Will had given it to him the night before, explaining how it was for anxiety, and he could squeeze it whenever he got stressed. Nico didn't understand how a foam ball could help him deal with traumatic, unforgettable memories of painful aloneness and terrible demons, but he found the pastime of throwing it skyward as high as it would go and watching it come back down into his outstretched hand strangely relaxing.

Camp Half-Blood, from what little he could see from the confines of his personal corner in the infirmary (courtesy of Will, who didn't need to be reminded of Nico's reflexive distaste for crowds), had ricocheted around the stages of grief like one of those terrifying spheres in pinball. The initial reaction to Leo Valdez's unexpected sacrifice had been numb shock as everyone stared, dumbfoundedly, at the spot where the cheerful inventor had flown on his faithful metal dragon just seconds ago, now a spectacular lightshow he would have been proud of. Smoldering embers fluttered toward the ground, setting the grass on fire, but even the nature spirits spectating forgot to do anything about it for a long time. It got so out of control, Percy summoned a colossal wave of water to put it out, but even then, the valley laid still.

Nico conducted the funereal rites, of course, and everyone gave their eulogies for the objectively minimal casualties they suffered in those final moments. Then everyone threw themselves into revelry, celebrating the newfound, unfathomable alliance between Greece and Rome. Nico accepted his family for the first time.

Now, though, it seemed people had careened to depression. Countless people lost dear siblings and friends in the war. Leo Valdez, whose cringe-worthy jokes defined Nico's time on the Argo II, had made the ultimate sacrifice, and no one saw it coming. People needed time to recover. Grief frayed the mind. Nico knew that better than anyone.

Nico reflected on everything. Will encouraged him to compartmentalize his various problems into manageable chunks, confronting them each in his own time, with the unwavering support of his friends.

He belonged. The idea felt so foreign; his knee-jerk reaction was to reject it. Reyna had been right that day, though; after years feeling innately displaced, both as the unwanted child of Hades and a product of another time, Nico found two places he could always turn to in times of need. That would take some adjustment.

Jason Grace was his friend. The same guy whose presence at Cupid's humiliating production in Split set Nico's blood ablaze had somehow burrowed his way into Nico's elite inner-circle, and Nico wasn't even that mad about it. Talk about unexpected.

Bianca had been reborn. That one stung, and Nico clung to Hazel like a lifeline this entire time to cope with her second abandonment, but he supposed she had only stood by the tenets she held to the first time he attempted to bring her back: death is not something to be trifled with. You cannot undo that which the Fates have done. Nico would have dragged her out of the Underworld kicking and screaming; they had both known it, so Bianca had no choice but to bypass him entirely and be reborn before Nico had his chance.

That didn't make it any easier to forgive her.

Will Solace was more than a laidback battlefield medic with a radiant smile. He had a fierce personality. He accepted Nico, flaws and all (so far). He endeavored to befriend him at every conceivable step of the way. He had a stubborn streak a mile wide. He had more nuisance than being a Y-chromosome-carting Florence Nightingale. He also had no right whatsoever to smile like that or make Nico's chest do strange, objectionable things whenever he entered the room.

Once, Nico even considered telling him he might have a heart murmur, but he thought better of it a second later when he remembered Jason's victorious smile when he complained to him about these strange reactions.

Lastly, Percy Jackson could not move back to New York fast enough.

Nico grimaced when he remembered Percy's flabbergasted fish-out-of-water routine after his confession. He had been high off the moment then, but looking back, he dreaded his next conversation with his cousin. While he had not admitted to his sexuality until Cupid and had not accepted it until shortly before then, Nico knew enough hearsay to understand a lot of guys had the misguided response to such things of getting self-righteous and insulted. He had no desire to undergo that humiliation.

Yes, he decided; Percy Jackson was free to leave Camp Half-Blood at his earliest opportunity, long before Nico left the infirmary, and then Nico would casually disappear every time he came back. He liked that plan.

Of course, no sooner had he nodded to himself on the conclusion than that plan exploded like one of the late-Leo Valdez's notorious inventions.

The curtain separating Nico from the rest of the infirmary screeched against its metal rod as someone nudged it aside. Nico glanced up, expecting Will or one of his less desirable siblings, but instead, he locked eyes with a sheepish, awkward amphibian whose shock of silky black hair and unnaturally intense green eyes put him on the instant defensive.

"Hey," Percy greeted. "How's it going?"

Nico eyed him warily. He had no desire to deal with Will's incensed lecture if he slipped off into the shadows to escape, and he doubted he could get past Percy or the dozen people outside to leave that way. Would it be out of line to inform him how little he wanted to talk to him? Ever?

Percy shifted uneasily under his unwavering gaze. "Uh…Will says you're doing a lot better already, with the…fading into shadow stuff."

"What do you want, Percy?" Nico demanded curtly.

Percy winced. "I knew it," he muttered. "Annabeth and Jason kept telling me you'd kinda forgiven me and I could check in on you, but I told them you still hated me. The one time I'm right instead of…" He sighed. "I'll, uh…I guess I'll get out of your hair, then." He turned to leave.

Except Nico no longer understood what conversation he was having. "What are you talking about?"

Percy faltered and glanced back at him. "What do you mean, what am I talking about?"

"Exactly what I said." This was why Nico didn't do well with interpersonal relationships. He never learned how to cut through the awkward.

Percy frowned. "I…well, you still hate me. That's…I mean, yeah."

Now it was Nico's turn to frown. "I don't hate you."

"You're not a good liar, Nico."

"I'm not lying."

"It's written all over your freaking face, man!"

"You must be seeing a very different version of my face." Gods, this integrating into normal society stuff would be a chore.

"Nico, just…look, I get it, okay? I got mad at you for a little while when I first got my memory back because you lied to me, but I deserved it. I made you a really serious promise and then I messed everything up." Percy slumped. Nico stared at him in complete shock. "Then I was this total jerk who told you to do this impossible thing while hanging over, you know, eternal damnation, right after you'd gotten out of this terrible situation I practically put you in, and I was down there, so I know the stuff you must have had to do and see, and…just…I'm sorry, okay? That's not enough, but I am."

Percy just turned and tried to walk away again, but Nico spoke first. "I haven't blamed you for any of that in…a really long time."

Percy lurched to a stop and looked back at him. He hesitated. "Then what is it now?" He didn't sound surprised that he'd done something else.

"Nothing."

Percy shrugged weakly. "Yeah. I…guess that's fair. Maybe you'll hate me a little less some day in the future. Just…get better, okay?"

"Percy, I don't hate you." Nico emphasized every syllable of the last part.

Percy looked at him hopelessly. "Then what's the face, man?"

"My face." Nico cracked a small smile.

Percy stared at him like he'd hybridized with a Hydra and grown several more heads.

Nico rolled his eyes. "What?"

"You…I guess I just haven't seen you really smile like that…maybe ever." Percy smiled a little in his own right, though.

Nico hesitated. "I'm…not good at this."

"Me neither."

That made Nico look at him strangely.

"What?"

"You're the most social person I've ever met."

Percy laughed outright that time. "Dude, I'm gonna let you in on a secret: I have no idea what the heck I'm doing."

Nico frowned and tilted his head. "Seriously?"

Percy nodded. He pulled up a chair and sat a respectful distance away, leaning forward. "I make it up as I go along. My math teacher is secretly a demon? Sure! My math teacher vanished into obscurity as soon as I killed her, and no one knows who the heck Mrs. Dodds is? Whatever. I'm half-god? Eh, there are weirder things. My crazy uncle blames me for stealing something I didn't even know existed and I need to somehow get it back before the world ends? No problem! That's just the short version of how much I've been adlibbing everything since I started."

Nico couldn't help but smile some again. "But…you don't know how to talk to people, either?"

Percy shook his head. "Not a clue. I guess I do a good job, though, 'cuz everyone seems to think I'm a master at it."

"But you have a girlfriend."

Percy snorted. "Dude, ask Annabeth for how many conversations have just gotten really awkward between us since we started dating alone. She's got a tally."

"That sounds like her." Nico paused. He didn't know if he wanted to ask the question brewing in the back of his head.

Percy frowned. "You okay?"

"I…yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"You've got Thought Face."

Nico blinked. "Thought Face?"

Percy shrugged.

Nico considered. He found himself squeezing the foam ball in his hand like Will had suggested, and it helped a little. "Do you ever want to hide away from everyone?"

Percy stopped. Something about his face actually worried Nico. It didn't look like he had any idea how to answer that, and not because of awkwardness. "Not really," he said.

Nico frowned. "I don't think you're telling the truth."

Percy sighed and shrugged. "I mean…just…okay, fine, but don't tell anybody else I sometimes feel this way, okay?"

Nico frowned even more but nodded.

Percy leaned back in his chair. "It can get to be way, way too much, sometimes. Back before Mrs. Dodds went crazy pterodactyl-lady on me, I was this scrawny nobody people ignored. I got written off as a screwup by everyone. Then, bang! I'm the only living mortal offspring of this god who was supposed to keep it in his pants, and now the fate of the whole world's resting on my shoulders?" He shook his head.

Nico didn't know what to say for a while.

After several minutes of silence, Percy glanced up. "Great," he mumbled. "This is why I don't tell people this stuff." He shifted forward. "Jason said you were remodeling your cabin. Any plans?"

Nico blinked. "Uh…no. Back up." He swung his legs off the bed. "Why don't you think you can tell people you get overwhelmed?"

Percy looked uneasy again. "When did this become a Percy therapy session?"

"Trust me, I don't like this any more than you."

Percy pushed to his feet and paced a little. "It's…look, it's nothing, man."

"Then why can't I tell someone else?"

Percy stopped. "Because…they won't think it's nothing?"

Nico looked at him pointedly.

Percy relented with a sigh. "They've all got these…expectations, I guess. I don't want to let them down. I've down that enough."

Nico blinked again. "How?"

Percy frowned. "What do you mean, 'how'?"

"How have you let anyone down?"

Percy gaped at him. "Dude, I thought Jason and I were the guys who couldn't hold onto our memories. Where have you been the past, like, three years?"

Nico waited.

"The wars!" Percy flung his arm wildly. "All those people died because I couldn't be the hero they all needed. You lost your sister because I couldn't save her. She was just the tip of the iceberg. I'm a massive sham, dude. Nobody wants to say it, but everybody knows it."

For the first time, Nico started to understand Percy Jackson. He remembered the hunt for his father's sword about a year ago, when Melinoe, the goddess of ghosts, paralyzed Nico and Thalia with images of their dead mothers. Nothing touched Percy, and he'd told her that had been because he'd made peace with all his ghosts.

Now, though, Nico wondered just how Percy had been immune to her, because this didn't sound like peace at all.

After so long watching the world from the outside, Nico assumed there was no worse existence than that of a pariah. He never considered the drawbacks the opposite position might have: the pressure, paranoia, and guilt that came from being too widely adored and respected. Nobody ever looked to Nico expectantly before. He was the creepy freak in the corner who communed with the dead and occasionally sprouted useful facts. He hated being pushed aside. He'd envied people like Percy for their effortless charm and belongingness.

Maybe, though, Percy had sometimes envied him.

"Those were wars, Percy," Nico said finally. Percy faltered and frowned at him. "They were terrible by nature. You did everything you could, but you're a teenager. No one should expect people our ages to save Western Civilization from unstoppable beings of immeasurable power, but we're the only people for the job. The lives you did save vastly outnumber those you couldn't. I'm sure Annabeth could give you a ratio."

Percy stared at him for a while. "That…got intense."

Nico nodded.

Percy sunk back into his chair. "But…yeah."

Nico started squeezing his stress ball again. Someone needed to give him the how-to manual for interpersonal relationships.

Percy made a face. "Okay, then…if you really aren't mad at me anymore, why did you look at me like that when I first got here?"

Nico felt his face heat up and turned away. "I…kind of assumed you'd come to talk about what I…what I told you, last time we talked."

He saw Percy frown out of the corner of his eye. "Is that…that's not, like, a problem for you still, is it? 'Cuz I kinda thought you'd, like…you seemed pretty over it."

Nico looked back at him funnily. "I am," he confirmed.

Percy frowned deeper. "Then…what's the issue?"

"Have you forgotten your reaction?"

Percy made even more of a face.

Nico sighed heavily. "I didn't want you coming in here to ask me why I didn't think you were my type! Gods! How dense can you get?"

"Annabeth has a 1 to Seaweed Brain scale."

Nico stared at him blankly.

Percy shifted. "And just FYI, Nico, I'm not one of those guys. You know, the ones who get all, like…uppity about gay guys not liking them?"

Nico hesitated. "Then why did you…like…why were you like that?"

"Flustered," Percy said. Nico looked at him in surprise. "Don't give me too much credit. Annabeth gave up with that description. It's not like I didn't know the word, but I'm not self-aware enough to use it that way."

Nico cracked a smile. "That sounds accurate." He hesitated. "Why were you flustered, then?"

"Because you like me."

Nico's heart sank. Fantastic. He'd finally worked up the courage to admit how he felt to someone, and they turned out to have a problem with homosexuals. Annabeth must have harassed him into playing nice. Or Jason.

The worst part was, Nico didn't think Percy would be one of those people.

Percy seemed to realize what Nico was thinking. "Oh! Oh, gods, no! Not like that."

Nico frowned at him.

Percy groaned. "I'm bad at this." He ran his fingers through his hair. "You're the fourth person I know had a thing for me at some point." Nico didn't have the heart to point out how many more people obviously had crushes on him. "I guess Annabeth liked me from the start or whatever. Then there was Rachel. Then Calypso. Now you. I swear, you can ask any of them and they'll tell you I didn't react any better when they told me how they felt. Like, this one time, on Mount St. Helens? Annabeth kissed me, and I legitimately almost got ripped apart by telekhines because I didn't know how to handle that."

Nico laughed quietly at that. "So…it's just because someone liked you?"

Percy nodded. "And, like, I had good relationships with all three of them before they told me anything. You? I was still pretty sure you hated me."

Nico smiled. "Nah," he said.

Percy beamed. "Then you're good? 'Cuz there's still some rebuilding to do, and I should maybe get back to it. I can stay, though."

"No, you're fine," Nico said.

Percy stood again, waving farewell as he turned to leave.

But then Nico got a ridiculous idea. He lunged over the side of the bed, scooped up the second stress ball Will had given him, and called, "Percy, look out!"

Quick as lightning—which felt a little strange to say about Percy's reflexes—he caught the incoming foam sphere before it hit him in the face. He frowned at it.

Nico shrugged. "It's kinda been helping me."

Percy looked at him weirdly but smiled. "Thanks. That's nice of you, man. You're already blowing me out of the water with the social stuff."

"No, I'm not."

Percy laughed. "No, you're not," he agreed. "I'll see you."

"Visit tomorrow," he blurted without thinking. Percy glanced back at him. "You know, if you have time." He shifted uneasily. Of course, he got a little too excited about befriending his childhood hero at long last and ruined it by being weird.

But then Percy beamed. "You betcha."

He tried to leave one last time.

"And take some alone time whenever you need it." He grinned. "Mortician's orders."

Percy glanced back at him, only to smirk. "Oh, I am so throwing a party when you and Will hook up."

With that, he walked out.

That was my first attempt at writing a truly canon-compliant, family-friendly story from Percy Jackson. I tend to explore the darker aspects through more mature writing, but I gave it my best shot to handle some of my grievances through a canonical method. I legitimately have no idea how to fix the Leo Valdez problem. Let me cry in a corner over that, please.

(Note: I freaking love Leo Valdez. I do not love how he has a million unaddressed issues Riordan glosses over. I believe the phrase is, "don't at me.")

Sue me for being a little proud of that, okay?

If I get enough requests, I might consider addressing a few other problems I have with both The Heroes of Olympus and the widespread reactions a lot of people seemed to have to certain things (based on the cesspool known as "the internet"). In the spirit of transparency, I, personally, don't like The Trials of Apollo enough to read past the first book. I skimmed it. Therefore, any additional stories like this I do will not be canon-compliant to that series.

Thank you for reading.