AN:/ Admittedly not my best, but inspiration! is inspiration! and there's no messing with inspiration! I have a killer headache right now, so you should definitely review to get rid of is ASAP! Please~?

Argh, it's been, like, forever since I've done a slash piece. (There's more than this, but I'm way too ashamed of them. They aren't even finished – any of them!)

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO and co. Mmmkay?

blue skies in your eyes*

The breath was forced out of Percy with a whuff! as he was slammed against the marble, cold like the hands that grasped his hips. Hands that pinned him against the wall, his feet lifted off the ground and had his back pressed up against the stone. A pair of lips sucked at his neck and – I shouldn't be here, Percy thought. He was stupid for coming, for even thinking that everything would be the same as before. That the colds hands would be warm and that his back wouldn't tingle every time it was touched. It was a dangerous game he was playing. And as those lips met his – so familiar and alien at the same time – and as he immediately kissed back, and as the other's tongue poked its way through the barrier of his teeth, and as Percy's own tongue wrestled the other, he couldn't help but think that this is wrong. This isn't Luke.

But it was, his mouth and groin told him.

(Because they couldn't tell the difference yet.)

His brain – the rational part, at least – confirmed that this was the other one and not Luke. The other part – the part that belonged to his mouth and his groin – was terribly confused, for each time he looked into the other boy's eyes, sometimes they'd be metallicKronoscoldgold and sometimes they'd be ceruleansummerskyLukeblue – all with the same face; the face that screamed Luke, even when reason cried Kronos.

The hem of his tee was pulled over his head and his hesitant fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Fingers, hard and scarred, painted pictures across Percy's chest, tracing the grooves of his abs and fingering his collar bone before a nipple was twisted and teased. (NotLuke, notLuke, notLuke) Percy inhaled sharply when it was taken between his teeth; he nipped at it and tickled the sensitised nipple with his tongue. Then he sucked and Percy resisted a shudder. He could feel a smile against his skin when he moved to the next one and repeated the process, knowing full well how difficult it was for Percy to suppress a moan.

A trail of kisses crossed his skin and calloused thumbs pressed into his neck, meant to cause bruising and memory in the morning. The tip of Percy's ear was pinched and the lobe was suckled hard. Percy let out a strangled gasp of pleasure. Finally finding an ounce of control, Percy wedged his hands before the two bare chest and pushed, trying to shove him away (notluke, notluke, notluke, he reminded himself) and the weight lifted if only for a second. Before Percy could twitch, he was knocked back into the wall, his skull thrown back and hitting the marble, causing a crater in the stone from the impact.

He growled and forced his mouth back upon the younger male's. Percy felt his manhood – hard despite his desperate attempts – being squeezed and rubbed up against, and in one fell swoop he claimed his dominance. Hungry hands undid his pants and the zipper was undone, and suddenly Percy was naked and an equally unclothed hardness grinded up against his own. A throaty groan escaped the demigods swollen lips and deepened when a pair of lips encircled (notluke,notluke,notluke) his dick. His hands massaged Percy's ass as he was being deep-throated his lover. Percy's hard-on wept and he licked up the precum and flashed a devilish smile at him. Percy met his gaze, eyes too dark to tell the colour, with pupils dilated by pleasure and lust.

He released the weeping dick and flipped Percy so that his chest and cheek rested on the marble wall. Percy struggled against the grasp, but the deity-possessed man touched him on the small of his back and the demigod was paralyzed. He felt the slick coolness of lubricant chill his ass as he breathed on it, fingers prodding at Percy's entrance as he prepped him for intrusion. "Luke," Percy breathed because Kronos would have never been so caring as to prepare his unwilling partner.

There was no reply, but Percy didn't need one.

Without warning, Percy was slammed into and he cried out in pain. Luke would've have done that. Luke always gave some sort of warning, and was almost never this rough. Almost because with Luke rough was the name of the game, and that's how they both took it and gave it.

(But this was notlukenotlukenotluke.)

Again and again, he was intruded and it never fell into a pattern. He was tortured by random thrusts at random times, always an unknown length of time until he was filled by shallow and not-so-shallow thrusts. His ass ached and his throat ached and yet he kept on crying out, especially when he hit the sweet spot. Percy's vision grew white and he was thrown into euphoria. "Luke!" he cried out, voice raw and raspy. The thrusts stuttered until the stopped altogether and Percy realised his mistake. This couldn't have been Luke.

Without a sneer and without a slur, his lover left the room with only the padding of bare feet on cold floors.

And Percy couldn't help but wonder it is was the one with the blue skies in his eyes.

AN:/ I don't blame you if you're confused by this. I am, too. And I wrote it.

Review, dolls! :)