.
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Percy was jumpy, to say the least. Nico had been annoyingly brief in his messages; Percy didn't know where they were going or at what time Nico was going to show up.
An hour before closing time, Grover waved him out of the shop with a "Go change. You look bad."
"Aw," Percy grinned at his friend widely, "you do care. Although I don't see how you can judge my clothes." Percy looked down at his own tee-shirt and jeans, and over at Grover's slacks and suspenders.
"Trust me, wear something nice." Grover prodded Percy out the door with the tip of a crutch. "I want you to get him to stop this nonsense, whatever the cost."
"That's kind of threatening." Percy wrinkled his nose. "I'd rather not kill the guy or anything."
"No, don't kill him. Suck him off and then steal his chalk or something."
Grover slammed the door on Percy's retort of, "but won't he just buy more chalk?"
'Let's make that Plan B.', Percy decided. 'Prostitution was never my life goal, regardless of how many problems it would solve.'
Plan A would be to maybe talk about it, to chat over dinner, maybe to slip in a hint about not graffiti-ing their store…
Percy thought about a subtle way to slide that into conversation as he glared at his closet. Annabeth had once joked that because he spent absolutely no time 'in the closet', he never had the time to perfect his wardrobe.
So he had nothing to wear, and that was a low complaint even for him.
In the end, he pulled on a clean shirt and then a green plain button down over that, switching his jeans to a darker, not coffee-stained pair. There wasn't much by way of tidying he could do with his hair, but overall he looked pretty good.
He swept back into the shop and Grover swept out of it, casting a despairing look at Percy's clothes and the store in general, particularly the front of the bricks.
.
Nico swaggered into the shop about twenty minutes before they were set to close.
"Hello." Percy greeted him happily. He still had some caretaking to do at the store, but nothing he couldn't do while checking out his date out of the corner of his eye.
His date. Wow. It was like this Nico and the Nico of his ever-loving-annoyance were two different people.
This Nico, the Nico of his dinner plans, was striking in a pair of black jeans and white shirt, with leather shoes. There was a streak of grey chalk along his inner sole, taunting Percy, reminding him that the two Nico's weren't actually separate people, only different in Percy's eyes. So far. It was a relief that he wasn't underdressed, which was a worry that had been plaguing him inexplicably for a while.
When Percy finished wiping off the counter he led Nico out, locking the door securely.
Nico had parked on the lot a few minutes' walk away. When they drew close enough Nico pressed the little fob, unlocking the car. It was a nice car, dark red, an older mustang with a scratch along one side.
"What happened there?" Percy pointed to it and asked loudly, a bit too loud honestly. He had a habit of speaking in unusually big tones when he was excited, or nervous, both of which he now was.
Nico didn't even look at the scratch, merely ushered Percy towards the passenger side door and pushing Percy's shoulder a little bit.
He opened Percy's door for him.
Under any other circumstance, Percy would have bristled at the emasculation. Then, he remembered that he was about to go on a date with a hot guy who was apparently gentlemanly enough to open his damned car door for him. It was subtly romantic in a way Percy had never been treated before, and was just another smack-in-the-face of the criminal Percy knew Nico was.
"Thanks." Percy slid into the seat and leaned out of the door to point at the scratch down the side, meeting Nico's eyes expectantly.
Nico sighed, but not frustrated. It was more of weary sigh of resigned fate, like he was adjusting to the (correct) idea that Percy would be asking questions all night. Not to say Percy was going to be with him all night, as this was just their first date and give him a little credit, please.
"Some idiot pulled a corner too quickly." He turned on the key with a loving pat on the dashboard.
"So, you can afford a mustang but not to fix a scratch?" Percy mused, half to himself. "Sorry, sorry!" He added, hoping he didn't just insult the other man by prying into his financial affairs. "The scratch looks fine; it adds character!"
Nico laughed. Percy was expecting his laugh to be deeper, darker, and a bit creepy—like the rest of Nico Di Angelo. What he got instead was a childlike chortle.
"You," Percy said before he could install the newest update of brain-to-mouth filter, "have an adorable laugh."
"Excuse me?" Nico asked incredulously. He was turning a corner, but he turned to look at Percy, aghast.
"What?" Percy asked innocently. "You've never had someone call you adorable?"
"Not in a long time." Nico said defensively. "And I'm not! Adorable, I mean!"
"You are." Percy muttered. He looked over at Nico through his lashes and saw Nico swallow as they turned into a parking lot.
"We're here." Nico said a bit grumpily.
"Good." Percy finally took the chance to look around. "Where's here, exactly?"
"McDermott's Diner."
.
Part II.
They grabbed a table and a waitress (not literally, but, you know).
Nico asked Percy to order for him while he ran to the bathroom for a second, leaving Percy with his menu and a vague 'something chicken' order request.
Percy settled on the barbeque chicken for Nico and the seafood platter for himself. One thing about being raised on the coast: Percy never could get enough seafood.
When Nico returned, Percy's eyes were immediately drawn to the small, canvas bag at his side. He was certain Nico didn't bring it in, and Percy's eyes latched on to a small streak of gunmetal grey dust on the corner.
"New chalk." Percy observed with a smile, muttering around his water glass. Nico licked his lips and that's where all of Percy's attention defected to.
"Yep."
"Why not get your own?" Percy pointed looked at the wall, not Nico's lips.
"Because the cops have been keeping an eye on shops for artistry chalk." Nico said cheerily, unlike he was discussing his own investigation.
"So you don't buy it yourself." That made sense, to Percy, because if they were looking for a graffiti artist Nico was an obvious suspect. He was slightly creepy and built like a ninja, and he had the ethereal feel of an artist or a dreamer.
"Nope." Nico popped the 'p' noise, drawing Percy right back in to his lips. Thankfully, the willowy waitress brought their food, so Percy didn't have to pretend to be fascinated by the totally generic wall art any longer.
As the waitress retreated, Nico muttered, "The owner of this place has a couple of kindergartners. He gives me certain colors out of their kits in exchange of art lessons."
"So, you're an artist." Percy observed. "I mean," He amended, "I know that you are, but you're an artist that others pay for work—Not just a hooligan."
"Hooligan." Nico's lips curved appreciatively, dastardly. "That's the first time I've been called that. I like it."
"You're not supposed to!" Percy pointed out. "It's an insult!"
"I don't care." Nico's eyes got a mischievous glint, and he looked around shiftily.
'Oh, no.'
"I'M A HOOLIGAN!" Nico yelled loudly.
"Oh, no." Percy repeated, out loud this time.
"I'M A HOOLIGAN!" Nico yelled it a bit louder, this time—loud enough that the people at the table next to them shifted and a waitress in the back looked at them, questioning.
After a beat of about two seconds, normal dining chatter resumed.
"See," Nico took another bit of food, casually. He wasn't even blushing. "They don't care, either."
"They're not the cops." Percy straightened up a bit, the desire to hide under the table slowly disappearing.
"No, they're not." Nico leaned over the table, sliding his plate to the side. He stared over at Percy like a predator, and Percy swallowed and shifted. Oh no.
"But the cops won't know." Nico said quietly. He didn't so much as look to the sides to see if anyone was looking, if he could get in trouble by practically admitting something like this.
"You seem awful sure about that." Percy noticed.
"I am."
"How can you be?" Percy wanted to know. Why had Nico decided to let Percy in on this little secret, when any second now Percy could walk straight up to a cop and turn him in? "I could turn on you."
"Yeah," Nico laughed the child's laugh again, "but I know you won't."
.
After the check debate, dinner was paid for and they headed towards the car. Percy paused right outside the passenger door. He couldn't get his mind off the scratch on the door—for some reason, it seemed very, very important.
Percy reached out and traced one finger along the pale gunmetal streak that ran a divide along the red paint. It caught the tip of his finger.
"Percy." Nico's voice was right behind Percy's head, scarily close. Percy didn't bother turning around.
"Hmm?"
"Percy." Nico repeated. Percy turned around slowly, finding himself face to face with Di Angelo.
Their noses were practically brushing. Percy exhaled shakily, thinking; there was no other reason for Nico to be this close to his face, this close to his lips, but Percy wouldn't be the first one to move, not now. Nico inhaled and his eyes fluttered, dark lashes brushing the edges of his cheeks. Percy could see so much detail, this close, and Nico hadn't pushed that last inch just yet. What could he be waiting on?
"I'm thinking," Nico broke the silence to speak into Percy's space, warm air brushing across his lips, making the hairs on the backs of his neck stand up, "that if I kiss you now, you may let me."
"I'm thinking," Percy's brain finally processed that so he could answer with something other than 'please', "that you are smarter than you look."
"Except, I'm not," Nico's shoulders shifted as he rested one hand against the car, moving the barest millimeter farther forward, like he was planning on standing and breathing Percy's air back in for a while, "I'm actually considering it."
"Why is that a bad thing?" Percy asked quietly. He felt a small rush when Nico's eyes flitted down to his lips as he spoke, but they darted back up just as quickly.
"Because we both know that you knowing this much is dangerous for me. And, I think we both know, that I can be very dangerous for you."
'What the hell.' Percy thought, bracing a hand against the car, 'I like danger.' He moved the last inch forward and sealed their lips—for a moment.
.
.
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A/N: Gratuitous kissing next chapter, I promise.
Tobi.
