Jason woke up in an unfamiliar room, all in tiled white and pastel colors. A hum of machines reached his ears, a regular beeping, as his eyes adjusted to the light. He felt drowsy, heavy, but even through that, a hint of pain managed to breach his consciousness—just a jolt, but enough for Jason to become conscious of his surroundings. The needle stuck in his right arm, the cable-looking tubes coming out of his other arm and his right leg—he had to be in a hospital. And judging by the straps binding his limbs to the bed, someone didn't want him to leave this room.

He struggled anyway, the beeping in his ear gaining speed—probably along with his heart rate. It didn't help him break free, but it did draw someone to come into the room. A young man, about his age, with tousled black hair and casual—though too fitting to be anything but tailor-made—clothes. They didn't look like hospital scrubs, either: blue jeans, an orange t-shirt with a navy blue shirt over it, the sleeves rolled up above his elbows. There was something familiar to him, but he was definitely not hospital personnel.

"You're awake," the stranger said. "They weren't sure you would." There was a hint of relief in his voice, which Jason couldn't help but feel clashed with his current situation.

"Where am I? Who're you?"

"I found you at sea. I'm Perseus Jackson." The name jogged Jason's memory: Perseus Jackson, prince of the kingdom of Atlantis. A newly-founded kingdom on an artificial island. "You can call me Percy."

"I'm—"

"Jason Grace. We know. Do you know what happened to you?"

Jason's mind was clear enough for that now. "Kind of. My dad was appointed as the US ambassador to Atlantis. I remember our plane going down, and—that's about it." It took him a moment to piece things together with what Percy had said. "You found me on the shore? What about my dad? Or anyone else?"

Percy shook his head, his face grim. "We found the pilot dead in the water yesterday, and one of the stewardesses. Everyone else is still missing. But we're looking—we know a thing or two about exploring the sea. With where I found you, where we found the others, and the sea currents, we have a good estimate of where the plane crashed in the ocean."

His unspoken meaning—that they were only looking for dead bodies—wasn't lost on Jason. "I guess I owe you my thanks for finding me and bringing me here, then. You saved my life." He managed to sit up, and when the cover slid down his chest, suddenly realized he was naked underneath. Was that an Atlantean thing? Better not to question it. But as he glanced around him, something else occurred to Jason. "Where are my glasses? And—" He blinked a few times, just to be sure. "Why don't I need them anymore?"

Percy shifted on his feet. "Yeah, that's—that's the difficult part. I really don't think you owe me anything for saving you. Our doctors and engineers did their best, but—"

His voice drifted off, and Jason focused his gaze on him, frowning. "But what?"

"When I found you, you were badly wounded. And a lot of those wounds were infected. A lot of it was beyond saving, so we—we had to replace it."

"Replace it?" Percy's gaze flickered down, and Jason followed it to his left arm—and that's when it hit him. That cable-like tube he'd noticed earlier was a cable, connected to a prosthesis. His hand, forearm, and part of his upper arm were all gone, and the cybernetic arm was melded seamlessly into his flesh.

His instinct was to touch it, but his right hand was stopped by the strap still holding him to the bed. He looked at it, then at Percy. "Why am I tied to the bed?"

"We just thought it'd be safer in case you woke up alone with no one to explain to you. I can untie you now, if you want."

"Please."

Percy moved to the side of the bed, working Jason's wrists free of their bonds. Jason didn't dare to ask for him to undo the ones around his ankles too—he didn't want to have to remove the cover for that.

He dragged a finger at the seam where flesh turned to metal; it was an irregular line. Whatever had happened to his arm, it had happened during the crash—this wasn't surgical work. "How—how much did you replace?"

Percy hadn't stepped back from Jason's bedside. "Your arm, obviously. Your right leg, too—though not as much of it. We had to amputate it because of the infection, but your arm had already been torn off when I found you. Some internal organs were ruptured beyond repair, too, but if you don't like the cybernetic implants, we can put you on a waiting list for a transplant. This was the best we could do in the time you had—it's a miracle you're alive at all. And—your eyes."

Jason's hand went up to his eyes subconsciously, even though he couldn't really see anything about them. "So that's why—"

"Well, we weren't going to give you cybernetic eyes that required you to wear glasses. Though you can still get prescription-free ones, if you liked the look."

Jason hadn't really thought about that yet—didn't really want to. It was too much to process, and it took him a moment to realize what Percy really meant—or at least what Jason guessed he meant. Cybernetic implants and prosthetics were still badly viewed in the United States, cyborgs considered subhuman for needing something more than their body to function. It had been a subject of tension with Atlantis, who had created the first generation of that technology—one Jason's dad had been supposed to discuss with Atlantis.

Now Jason's dad was probably gone, and Jason would likely be sent back as soon as he was checked out. And then—what? Could he take glasses to hide what had happened to him, assuming no one in Atlantis had leaked it by then? It would only work if nothing else was apparent. "How do they look?" he found himself asking.

"I used pictures of you to pick the color, so I think they're pretty similar to your old eyes. I have a good eye for picking blues." Percy attempted a faint smile, but it didn't reach his eyes, and he cleared his throat. "It wouldn't fool any biometric scan, if you used them, since we didn't have—anything to use as a template. On the plus side, you can load programs into them. Connect straight to the Internet, change their look however you want. If you have a biometric scan of your eyes somewhere, you can even use it to replicate your eyes after the fact. They're state-of-the-art."

Percy's rambling did nothing to alleviate the look on his face. Jason had no idea how the prince of Atlantis was involved in politics, but he supposed he knew enough about the United States to know nothing could soften this blow for Jason. For all Jason knew, Percy even believed that he hated cyborgs himself, and would hate being one—even if that wasn't the case.

Still, Jason managed a smile. "So you've been staring at pictures of me to figure out my eye color?"

This brought a smile on Percy's lips. "Don't tell anyone."

Percy stayed a few more minutes, until a Doctor Solace came and tossed him out of the room while he performed a full check-up on Jason—which involved untying Jason's ankles and inspecting his legs. Jason couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at being naked, even if it was alone with a doctor, though Solace didn't comment on it if he noticed.

Then, after Jason was back under his covers, the royal engineer, a guy named Leo Valdez who had apparently custom-made Jason's cybernetics alterations, came in the room as well, explaining the functionalities of each piece to Jason. Most of it was lost on Jason, though—too much information in too little time. He was sure he could figure it all out eventually.

What he did understand was that his brain would need time getting used to the new connections. "They're connected to your nervous system," Valdez explained, "and we're constantly improving to use connectors as similar to real nerves, but your brain is still going to know the difference. It's especially difficult for sensory information—you might need a few weeks to fully recover a sense of touch in your arm and leg."

"What about my eyes? They're working already."

"Yeah, and you were in a medically-induced coma for a few days for that to work. Doctor thinks it's not necessary to do the same thing for your limbs. You'll have to go through physical therapy instead."

"It's not necessary," Solace interjects. "And physical therapy will do you good. The rest of your body needs to recover, too. You've undergone some severe trauma and you were out for a long time."

"All right, I'll take your word for it. So what happens to me now?"

"You'll stay in the hospital for a few more days, then Percy—Prince Perseus—has offered for you to stay at the palace. He also volunteered to take care of your physical therapy. He knows how to handle it, don't worry."

"I—wasn't worrying. But doesn't he have other things to do?" Jason was having trouble picturing a prince with time to take care of a stranger recovering from a plane crash.

Doctor Solace just shrugged. "If he says he doesn't, I'm not going to question it. I'll check up on you regularly too, of course. You'll be in good hands."

Percy came back to visit every day Jason was still in the hospital, leaving him more and more confused after each visit. Why had he volunteered to do this? Some sense of duty after being the one to find Jason? Actually, how had Percy ended up finding him in the first place? Jason never got an answer to these questions—mostly because he didn't know how to ask them without sounding ungrateful.

Finally came the day Jason was leaving the hospital, and it was barely a surprise when Percy showed up.

"Your clothes were irrecuperable, so I got you some new ones," he said, holding out a bag in front of him. "I had to guess your size, but I can ask the tailor to come by for you at the palace one of these days, so it's just a temporary issue."

"Thanks, but I don't think I can afford tailor-made clothes." Did Jason even have any money? He guessed so—his father probably had something and Jason would receive part of it—but he wished he could know for sure. So far he hadn't had any contact outside of Atlantis. Maybe he should have done as Percy had suggested and installed an Internet access into his cybernetic eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous; I'm paying for them. You're my guest." He dropped the bag on Jason's lap. "Come on. I'll help you walk to the front desk, you'll sign your discharge, and we'll be off. How does that sound?"

"Um. Sure. And thanks. For everything you're doing." Even if Jason still had no idea of why. Then, seeing Percy wasn't moving, he glanced up at him. "Um…can you turn around or something while I get dressed?"

A crooked smile and a half-frown passed on Percy's face. "Sure, if you want." He walked a few steps away from the bed and stood there, his back turned to Jason. "But, you know, I'll have to help you bathe for a few days at least. Until you're capable of doing it on your own."

Jason hadn't thought about that, but he decided to worry about it later. He pulled underwear from the bag—boxer briefs, in Jason's exact size—and slid off the bed, carefully putting his feet on the ground for the first time since he had woken up here, tried to stand…

…And immediately lost his balance. A small cry escaped his lips, and before he hit the ground, Percy caught him in his arms. "I warned you," he said. Jason guessed his teasing tone was a little bit insulting, but Jason was too busy being embarrassed that Percy was holding him close while he was completely naked. To his credit, Percy's gaze remained fixed on Jason's face. "Are you okay?"

Percy stepped back, his hands still on Jason's shoulders, and Jason finally found some semblance of balance. "Yeah, I think so." He looked down at his own feet, getting a full view of his own body for the first time—without Solace fussing over him or any medical or electronic equipment sticking out of him. The metallic leg and arm weren't new anymore, not really, but he hadn't taken a good count of all the scars that marred his body. Doctor Solace had listed all the organs that had needed replacing—a good thirty percent of Jason's body, in total, including his limbs—and Jason saw each and every one of them marked on his skin. Scars from the accident, ugly and irregular, and surgical ones, thin and already almost faded to white lines.

Without Percy holding him upright, Jason was pretty sure he would have fallen down again, just from realizing the sheer magnitude of what he'd survived.

He looked up at Percy, catching him staring at Jason's body too for just a moment before Percy looked away. "Um—we should get you dressed."

Jason didn't reject his help a second time, though he tried his best to do as much on his own as he could. Finally, he was clothed, stumbling to the hospital's front desk—where a receptionist all but yelled at Percy for making Jason walk instead of using a wheelchair. Moments later, they were in a limousine that had waited for Percy in front of the hospital, driving off to the palace.

The Atlantean palace was not what Jason had expected. He was pretty sure he'd seen bigger homes when his dad visited friends in the Hamptons, but then again, the Atlantean king had the title by virtue of leading the founders, and even then, as a first among equals. Jason guessed it made sense exuberance wouldn't be as important to him—nor would it have been accepted by his people.

Still, it was a large home, rich, ready to receive official guests—like Jason's dad would have, as an ambassador, until he was procured a home in Atlantis. One of the wings was all for Percy's use, and Jason stayed there with him, in the adjacent bedroom. Of the king, Jason had seen no sign yet, but he preferred that. He had too much to deal with without having to also face a world leader.

True to his promise, Percy helped with his physical therapy. For the first few days, it was mostly just hanging out in places that required Jason to walk there—further from his bedroom each day—and helping with anything that required Jason to stand—which, yes, did include bathing. Eventually, Jason just grew used to being naked in front of Percy.

When walking stopped being an issue, Percy declared him ready for more thorough exercise. He led Jason to the palace's gym, assigning Jason exercises to use both his atrophied muscles and his new limbs alike. Jason was no stranger to gyms, though, so he quickly pushed himself further than Percy was instructing him—which Percy didn't seem to mind. On their second day there, Percy started exercising on his own—though he was always near Jason, keeping an eye on him at all time, ready to intervene. He stopped Jason from pushing himself too hard more than a few times, even though he still let Jason go much further than planned by Doctor Solace.

After two hours in the gym, Percy decided it was time to stop. "Come on, let's hit the showers."

Even after a few days of being naked in front of Percy, this was the first time Percy got similarly undressed in front of Jason, and he did so with unsurprising, shameless ease, uncovering tanned skin, taut over lean muscles, glistening with sweat after the exercise.

Percy glanced back at Jason, a grin forming on his face as he caught Jason staring. "Do you think you can stand on your own long enough to shower?"

"Is it safe? With my prosthetics, I mean." So far Percy had always towel-bathed him, avoiding them altogether.

"Yeah, of course, they're completely waterproof. Don't worry."

Jason was still hesitant when he got under the shower head next to Percy's, but the prosthetics didn't show any signs of malfunction. What he'd overestimated, however, was his own abilities. After two hours in the gym, his tired muscles gave way under him after just a few minutes under the spray.

As he always did, Percy caught Jason before he hit the floor and pulled him close to hold him steady. The difference from all the previous times this had happened was the sudden awareness of Percy's skin pressed flush against his, of the warmth radiating from Percy's body. "I got you," Percy said, whispering in Jason's ear, and his lips pressed against the crook of Jason's neck as he pulled Jason upright. Briefly enough to pass as an accident, but Jason wasn't fooled—or perhaps it was an accident, and Jason was fooling himself.

But Percy remained pressed against Jason, staring into Jason's eyes, too long to be fully comfortable, long enough for Jason to feel his body respond. He hadn't really had any opportunity for arousal since he'd first woken up in that hospital, hadn't even really asked if that part of him was still functional, but as he felt his erection grow, that was the only answer he needed.

He bit his lip, unsure what to do—unsure he could really pull away and hide it without falling down again. Before he could decide, though, Percy leaned up and pressed his lips against Jason. Briefly, once again; not really a kiss so much as a question. Jason slid his hand up Percy's back and tangled it into his hair, pulling him closer for a real kiss.

Percy took over again, pinning Jason against the wall under the spray of hot water, grinding into Jason's hips—and Jason was suddenly made aware he wasn't the only one who was hard. With his free hand, he traveled down Percy's back and grabbed his ass, firm, yet soft—and definitely sensitive, if the moan Percy let out in Jason's mouth was any indication.

Then Jason froze as he realized this was his left hand—his cybernetic hand. Percy seemed to notice his shock, because he broke their kiss and looked up at Jason, a curious frown on his face. "What is it? Is—is it too much? Does it hurt? Or maybe you just don't want—am I too presumptuous?"

"No, it's—it's fine. You're fine. It's just—" He brought his hand up and glanced at it. "You don't mind?"

"Why would I—"

"Because it's—metal. It's not a real hand."

Percy let out a faint sigh. "It's your hand. That's all I care about." He grinned. "And it felt very real where it was moments ago." Still, he paused, and stepped away, the spell of the moment broken. "Come on, we should go."

Jason sighed. "I—it's not that I don't like you, I do—"

"I noticed. But you can barely stand. Besides, anyone could walk in, and I'm sure you'd mind that." He wiggled his eyebrows as he took Jason's hand and walked back to where they'd left their clothes. "We can take this somewhere else."

Five minutes later, they were in Percy's bedroom, and Percy was throwing him back against the mattress, straddling Jason's lap as he kissed him.

"You," he said between kisses, "need to relax. Let me do the work."

Jason chuckled, but he refused to fully comply. His hands slid under the hem of Percy's shirt, pushing it up. Under the fingertips of his mechanical hand, he was pretty sure he was feeling goosebumps on Percy's skin—it was hard to say for sure, with his sense of touch still only partially recovered, but he was pretty certain—and Jason decided it was a good thing.

Percy took longer undressing him, though Jason was pretty sure it wasn't caution so much as pure and evil teasing, as he kissed, nibbled, or bit every inch of Jason's skin he uncovered. But finally, he got Jason's shirt off, then removed his pants and underwear in one go, freeing Jason's cock. He was already hard again, but from the outline showing against Percy's underwear, he wasn't the only one.

Percy hovered over Jason's cock for a moment, his fingers wrapping around it almost tentatively, but Jason cut him off. "Cut the foreplay. I'm too tired for all your teasing—can't we just get on with it?"

A smirk lit up Percy's face as he looked up. "Hasty and bossy?" He chuckled. "All right. But just because you're still recovering. I can assure you you'll get the full Percy Jackson teasing regiment when you're better." The hint that there would be another time wasn't lost on Jason as Percy slithered up his body and reached for the nightstand.

"You're well-prepared," Jason noted when Percy pulled out a condom and lube.

"Always. Do you want to prep me?"

Jason noticed Percy's gaze flicker to his cybernetic hand, but he shook his head. "I'd rather watch you do it." His sensation in that hand wasn't recovered enough yet—when he did get to finger Percy, he wanted to feel it fully for himself. "You did say you'd be doing the work, didn't you?"

"As you wish." He bent down to kiss Jason, and it took Percy moaning for Jason to realize he'd already started preparing himself. Percy chuckled at Jason's surprised jolt, and pulled away, making sure to give Jason a good view—and to stay out of reach when Jason tried to touch him. "You passed on this chance," he teased.

Jason groaned, but the show was more than enough to satisfy him. His hand—his right, normal hand—found his own cock, and he leisurely stroked as Percy fingered himself. Percy smiled, and followed his movements, almost synchronizing their rhythms, biting his lip when he saw Jason staring at him.

Finally, Percy stopped, and unwrapped the condom he'd taken. He swatted Jason's hand away, unrolled the condom over Jason's cock, and applied more lube to it at a tortuously slow pace. In the end, Jason couldn't take more teasing: he grabbed Percy's arm and pulled him closer, before securing his hands around Percy's hips and positioning them over his lap. Percy let out a whimper of surprise, but he didn't struggle. Instead, he reached back to find Jason's cock, guiding it to his entrance as he lowered himself over it.

Percy went slowly, even though he didn't seem to have any issue with fitting Jason's cock inside of him. His unfaltering grin remained as he stared at Jason and slowly pushed back up, then down, testing a few angles until he found the one he wanted. Percy's cock bounced between them, but when Jason reached for it, Percy caught his hand, his smile widening.

They settled into a rhythm. Or, really, Percy did, finding the right roll of his hips while Jason mostly watched. Percy settled Jason's hands back on his hips, and Jason kept them there, occasionally stroking up the sides of Percy's chest but no further than that.

Percy knew what he was doing, and while his gaze remained settled on Jason, it grew cloudier as a blush spread across his skin and his breathing grew shorter. He called Jason's name out once, then again, the sound of his voice sending a rush through Jason's veins, until finally, Percy's voice devolved to a series of whispers. Jason felt Percy's ass clench around his cock as Percy came, messily shooting across Jason's stomach as he kept riding Jason through his orgasm.

Jason wasn't there yet, and he almost wondered if Percy would want to stop, but Percy just bent down, pressing their chests together without pulling Jason out of him. He kissed Jason, and Jason got the message, and picked up where Percy had left off, rolling his hips at a leisurely pace.

Percy moved to Jason's neck, and just as he bit into the tender skin, Jason reached his climax, crying out Percy's name as he spilled into the condom.

When he came down, Percy had already pulled off, disposed of the condom, and cleaned them both up. "I should be the one doing that," Jason muttered as Percy lay down next to him, his chest pressed against Jason's side, his head on Jason's chest.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm taking care of you for now. You'll have plenty of time for cleaning up when you're better."

Jason pressed a kiss into Percy's hair, burying his face in it. "If you want some kind of relationship, the least you could do is ask," he teased.

"You're stuck with me for the rest of your physical therapy."

"Oh, am I? I could tell Doctor Solace you molested me while I was showering and see what he thinks about it." He laughed at Percy's discomfited face. "I'm kidding. I'm just not sure what a prince would do with me."

"I think we just had a very good demonstration of what I want to do with you," Percy retorted.

Jason laughed. "Fair enough."

"We can figure out the details later. Just let me have this moment."