Drabble: love it when you call me legs
Rating: PG-13
Characters:
Jason/Reyna
Word Count: ~1,100
Prompt: Love it when you call me legs – "Boys Boys Boys" by Lady Gaga

... ...

It starts because of Dakota, the perverted idiot.

Well, no. That's not exactly fair because Dakota's a smart and admirable camper. He's by no means an idiot.

The perverted part, though, is accurate most of the time, like when they'd all been together the other day. The weather was warm and sunny and clear, and they'd finished all of the paperwork that the Senate claimed they absolutely needed by the next morning, so they changed into their swimsuits and spent the rest of the day at the lake until they had to get changed for dinner. Reyna actually did a lot of swimming that time around, too, which was nice. She'd never hated the water, but after she first arrived at Camp, it took a while for her to enjoy being in it again and without it bringing up all these memories, and then during the times Jason had been gone, she just didn't have the time for a leisurely swim.

So, yeah, an afternoon at the lake had been much appreciated, and after she'd been in the water for a while, she and Gwen spread out some towels over the grass, laid on their backs and talked about nothing in particular while the others were still trying to dunk each other.

After some time, when she'd noticed that the yelling had died down, Reyna lifted herself up on her elbows and found that their friends were just staring at her and Gwen.

"Nice legs, Rey!" Dakota called out.

Reyna scoffed, fighting off the stupid urge to blush. She turned to Gwen, expecting the girl to reprimand him like she always does, but found her staring at her legs with an amused smile on her face. This only made Reyna want to blush even more.

"You know, the idiot's right, Rey," Gwen said with a laugh. "I never realized how amazing your legs were before."

"Jeez," Reyna muttered.

Jason jogged up to them, dripping water onto her thighs as he knelt beside her, and she wrinkled her nose as he placed a wet kiss to her temple. Dakota, Bobby, Hazel and Frank all settled onto the grass around them, and Reyna couldn't help but notice that they were all staring at her legs. She glared, hugging them to her chest.

"Feeling shy, Legs?" Dakota laughed.

She chucked a bottle of sunblock at his head.

That's how the nickname came about, and it's what the five of her friends (she's seriously reconsidering that status) have been calling her ever since. They know better than to use the nickname at official meetings or in front of anyone important, thankfully, but everywhere else is fair game. They'll purposely say it louder during conversation to get people to look or yell it across tables and restaurants and streets when she's a few feet away and they're supposedly trying to get her attention. She tries to ignore it, but they make it impossible.

Anyway, it's a little overcast but actually pretty warm outside even though it's pretty early still, so she changed into a pair of denim shorts and light blouse and brought the quest debriefs Octavian had passed onto her from the Senate. There are a few benches around the park in New Rome, so she walked over there, laid herself out and started reading.

She's been there for about half an hour before Jason comes along, sliding onto the bench and pulling her legs over his lap. Whenever she doesn't end up spending the night in his villa (which is not often, to be honest), she'll wait for him so they can get breakfast together. But it was so warm this morning that she tried to get out for some fresh air as soon as possible. He must have been looking for her for a while now.

"You could've at least left a note," he says, but she can tell he's just teasing.

"Oops?"

"You're slipping, Legs." She glares, about to pull away, but he laughs and presses his hands firmly over the tops of her thighs before she can move them. "Rey, it's not that bad of a nickname," he points out, but him laughing while he's telling her this? It's definitely not helping his argument, here.

"It's inappropriate and embarrassing."

"Why? You have nothing to be ashamed of. I love your legs."

"Jason," she says.

He gives her an innocent look, making her roll her eyes, but it's hard to act annoyed with his hands still in her lap and his thumb smoothing random patterns into her skin. She feels like squirming, and then he moves his hand a little higher and she hisses his name, glancing around. No one's around to see them, but still.

"I mean, I love every part of you," he goes on as if she didn't even speak, "but your legs are pretty awesome."

She stifles a laugh. "I didn't realize you had a fetish."

"Not a fetish," he corrects, moving his thumb across her skin again as he adds, "More like a reminder."

Her eyebrows pull together but she doesn't ask what that's supposed to mean, getting distracted by him drawing randomly over her thigh. Except, as she pays more attention, she realizes that he's actually repeating some sort of pattern. And that's when she notices it.

He's tracing over her scars.

There're quite a few on her legs that she's gotten over the years, most of them almost entirely faded away by now and only visible if you know where to look (which Jason does), and she can recall with an almost scary clarity how each of them happened. No one else but Jason knows every single scar on her body, and even then, he doesn't know every story. He'd stopped asking for them when they got more and more graphic, and she thinks (knows) it's because he hates the thought that people could hurt her, let alone hurt her enough to leave a mark. Plus, this is Jason, who has a constant need to protect. It's never him overestimating himself or underestimating everyone else. He doesn't like seeing anyone in pain.

He's just extra-protective when it comes to her.

"Hey," she says to get him to look at her. "I'm not ashamed of my scars, you know. I mean, I'm not proud of them, either, but that's not why I…"

"You don't have to say it," he assures. Reyna smiles and doesn't finish her sentence. "I'm not crazy about everyone staring at your legs, either, but," he moves his hand over her hip and pulls her closer, "I want everyone to know how amazing you are. I can't help but want to show you off to the world."

"Way to make me sound like I'm just some prize," she teases, tapping her finger to the bridge of his nose.

He rolls his eyes, smiling. "You know that's not what I mean."

"I know."

He chuckles, leans in to kiss her. "And you know you're beautiful, right, Legs?" he asks, and instead of answering, she straddles his hips and slants her lips over his, his hands warm against her legs.