Enjoy!

X.

In the last month or so, since you were rescued by an ass-kicking satyr from a bunch of air-bullies and brought to Camp Half-Blood, you've felt all sorts of things. You've felt anxiousness after knowing your father was a prisoner; you've felt sadness after realizing you'd have to betray Jason and Leo to get him back; you felt happiness once it all was over, once you were sure your father would be alright and your friends and you had succeeded with your task; you've felt fear ever since then, because you now know that your life might just end way sooner than you expected; and you've felt excitement about being with Jason, such a huge amount of excitement that it could only be understood by describing first the dreadful days you spent believing he would never be yours again, and that, in reality, he had never been so to begin with.

You've felt all sorts of wonderful and horrible things, and yet you're new to this feeling.

You don't think it's love. Love you have felt. Love you're familiar with. It could have something to do too, though. But it's not love. No. Besides, were it love, it would show itself in different manners, with different symptoms.

The flock of birds — they must be birds, since no smaller animal would give you such nausea — is love's; the tingling fingertips and trembling hands as well. The involuntary smile and giggles, the constant blushing…

But there's a point where what you're feeling in your gut turns intense as all Hades, hot as the hell that you used to believe in before you knew you are a demigod. A point where you can't tell if your hands are still trembling — because they're feeling numb.

The heat is what bothers you the most. It begins, as has been told, in your stomach; but it spreads farther and farther away, as the oil of some transatlantic ship that had a leak would in the middle of the ocean. It gets to your chest and fastens your breathing, hastens the beating of your heart. It gets to your arms and tenses your biceps and triceps, sending to your hands an electric shock so intense that it causes your fingers to clamp on whatever they have within reach. It gets to your face and heats it up; though, unlike when you blush, it doesn't make your skin red, it causes it to sweat.

It gets to your groin and makes you suppress a pleasured moan.

"Okay, we better stop!"

Your words float away and dissolve on empty space.

Jason pushes away from you, his breathing slightly ragged, his expression dumbfounded.

"Puh, Pi-Pipes?" he manages — barely.

Okay, maybe he's not just dumbfounded, maybe he's dumb, too.

Using your elbows and hands, you scoot away, being as discreet about it as you can — which means not a lot, since most of your limbs are still numb. Looking around you, you try to come up with something good to excuse your reluctance to continue.

He's your boyfriend, after all. It should be okay for you to make-out.

"I'm sorry. So sorry," you respond to his questioning look. Babbling. "It's just… I… I've never done this, Jason, and we're, we're up here and it's beautiful — it seriously is — and you're so handsome tonight… And all of that… it just makes me really, really nervous."

Jason blinks a couple of times, apparently coming out of his trance just now. "Oh," he attempts, then blinks again, his head shaking. "I mean… It's totally okay, Piper. I understand." It goes without saying that this is also his first time doing this. "It doesn't matter."

You both take a deep breath, then, silently staring down at a couple of Hephaestus kids that are just coming back from Bunker 9. They have a short confrontation with an annoyed harpy — you hear something about not having eaten a meaty, tasty kid in over a century — before walking into their cabin, shoulders tiredly slumped. The longer the silence stretches between you, the more awkward you feel.

When he talks again, it's to comment on the weather. "Don't ask me to remember much about my old camp, but I can tell you, there's no clear nights like this over there."

Great, you tell yourself, now just talk about how it's so cold and we're officially the most boring couple ever.

However, Jason's face is overcome by his infamous pained frown, and he starts recounting some details of his camp that you haven't heard before. He describes to you a wide valley, and the barracks where he lives. Says he's some sort of big-shot among his people.

You don't pay very close attention until he mentions Reyna.

"She was… is, I guess, the leader of the Roman kids. She, uh…" he looks uncertainly at you. "Well. I was never really sure, but I think she, uh…"

"Liked you?" you complete.

"Right. It's not important now, though. I'm here and with you and all…"

You wonder how you would feel if the guy you liked disappeared suddenly. You're pretty sure you wouldn't like to hear him say that whatever you two had was not important.

"But… I imagine you would be with her now if you hadn't been kidnapped by Hera, right?"

"Well, yeah. I don't know, I guess so… As leaders, we would've spent lots of time together. We had already been alone together a lot. Talking a lot. One grows close, I guess, once you have such a chance to connect with someone else… Even if you're forced into it by duty."

Duty. The word sounds as if meant to be said by his lips.

"I don't know, though, Pipes…" he continues. "I think it's better this way. I mean, what you and I have…" He blushes furiously. Jason is not the kind of guy who believes a guy should be this way and a girl should be that way, but even you feel sick by how corny the beginning of his sentence sounds. "I mean, it's nothing like that. I guess I had to be brought here to really know what it is to like someone."

You feel your eyebrows rising in surprise.

After another deep sigh, Jason keeps describing the camp — Camp Jupiter, he remembers suddenly. His lips quirk upward, smiling, as he continues, remembering what he speaks of as he talks,.

He mentions a hill where they pray to their gods and where their oracle — augur, he calls it — sacrifices teddy bears in exchange of prophecies. He rants for a moment about how his Roman gods are much tougher than the Greek ones, how they're all war-loving, fearless and obsessed with bravery and victory. How they all incite to useless fighting.

He goes back to his beautiful camp — always having in mind the thread of his conversation — and describes its glorious aqueduct and mentions something called New Rome. That attracts your attention.

"What do you mean New Rome? Are you telling me your camp is in Europe or something?"

You're suddenly seeing a mental image of Jason eating lots of spaghetti and pizza while riding vespas and trotting happily on piazzas, chanting and singing in a weird language.

"Haha," he laughs. "Of course not, Piper. As far as I can tell, Camp Jupiter must be somewhere in California. I'm sure Annabeth told you about it. I told her all I could remember weeks ago." With a frown, he adds, "Though maybe I should converse with her and Chiron again soon, since I seem to be remembering a lot more details that could be useful, huh?"

You laugh nervously, agreeing. He had to mention Annabeth, you think uncomfortably.

And just when you thought the night couldn't get more awkward, the heat — which you had believed to have vanished minutes ago — spreads once again all through your body at the thought of your blonde, gray-eyed friend.

You haven't seen Annabeth since last Sunday. Today it's Thursday, and you plan on visiting her once more this weekend. You were trying hard not to think about her, and, being with Jason, it had been working so far.

But the moment he mentions her you see her face and imagine her standing in front of you, waving her hand and smiling that sad smile, just like when you'd last seen her.

She'd looked so beautiful.

No, Piper, you effectively stop yourself. You're with Jason and that's what matters right now.

But the heat and the guilt remain within bothering distance.

"You said she likes architecture, right? That's perfect. New Rome is kinda like a New Old Rome. There's a Colosseum, not yet half-destroyed, a Senate House and a horse-racing arena. It's amazing. Really. Lots of monuments and huge statues. It must be like a heaven for aspiring architects…" You shut him out for a moment — partly because you don't want to care for New Rome or his camp; mostly because you're having trouble ignoring the thoughts of Annabeth. It's fortunate when Jason asks you about her again, because you were starting to believe if he didn't you would the next time you spoke. "How is she, by the way?"

You blink before responding, just coming out of your reverie. "What? Oh. She's… you know. Studying or whatever."

Jason chuckles reflexively. "With ADHD and dyslexia, you'd think she would've given up on studies, huh? No wonder she's such an inspiration around here." He picks up a rock from the roof and makes an almost-perfect throw at the basket of the basketball court. The rock bounces off the hoop and falls to the floor. "I hope it's not weird if I ask you about her," Jason continues. "It's just… You and Annabeth are pretty close now, and I feel like we never talk about it."

"What's there to talk about?" you say nervously.

Because really. You don't necessarily feel like you should mention the several kisses you've shared with her, or how, not two weeks and a half ago, your feelings for her rivaled the ones you have for him.

"I don't know." Jason sounds unsure, as if he was embarrassed of asking. As if he'd been hoping you told him it was weird and to shut up. But you don't think it's weird or wrong. You think it's actually quite nice of him to show some sort of interest. "I keep thinking I should be helping her a lot more with her… sadness or whatever." One of his shoulders shrugs as he glances at you. "After all, I'm the one that was exchanged for her boyfriend…"

It is quite nice of him to show any sort of interest. Really.

You realize it's probably one of the things you love so much about him. He's a kid that got kidnapped by a goddess and sent to a camp full of theoretical enemies, a bunch of Greek kids who he didn't even need to care about. And yet. And yet he's helped them. He's saved them. And he's willing to risk his life for them. And even then, he's making sure that this bunch of potential enemies don't try to destroy his old home or harm his old friends in some way.

He's willing to risk his life to save the world, and still he's trying to keep the ones he cares about safe, so that even if he dies—

No, you interrupt your train of thoughts. He'll live. We'll live.

You look at him and see so much more than the fifteen-year-old kid whose life has been turned upside-down by the willful and unthankful gods. And yet, you think, he has time to worry about poor Annabeth who's missing her boyfriend and who spends the weekends making out with his girlfriend.

And… Yeah, you're sort of wishing you were dead right now.

"Well, um… She's still sad sometimes, but…" You try to redeem yourself by telling him how you're helping her, but the only way you've found to help her involves a lot of kissing and touching, and for some reason all that feels like a really bad thing to say to your boyfriend. "Um… Well, she's taken me 'round the city a lot when I go. Because… Yeah, she likes architecture a lot, and she knows all these facts…"

You wanna keep going. Really, there's nothing you wish more than to be able to continue, but you just can't. The heat that's spreading between your legs is becoming overwhelming, and you're hating yourself for it.

You don't know what it is. It could be Jason just as well as it could be Annabeth.

Is there no limit to your perversion? you wonder.

Apparently, seeing him so concerned about the girl you're lusting after has made you lust after him, too — which is kind of unfortunate, since he's the one you have within reach and the one whom, just minutes ago, you rejected using the argument that you don't think you're ready to go any further than the occasional, no-longer-awkward kissing-session/not-quite-makingout.

And for a moment you wanna stop and mull over the fact that, apparently, some part of you has unconsciously accepted that at least one of the things both Annabeth and Jason provoke within you is lust. But you're too focused on the fact that maybe, just maybe, the fire that the idea of liking Annabeth started weeks ago has just successfully spread to the rest of your forest-soul — or whatever else you wanna call it — and it's made you realize that, indeed…

What you feel for Annabeth is almost the exact same thing you feel for Jason.

And, by the gods!, going back to your cabin and dealing with this on your own is starting to sound like the safest thing to do.

The amount of love you're feeling for your boyfriend increases when you notice he's dismissed your rather elusive comments as a polite sort of rejection. It's not what they are, but you're too tired to deal with what the correction would imply.

So, you just do the same thing he's done and let your body fall back on the uncomfortable red surface of the Big House roof.

You're still warm, though, and it makes you restless. The heat makes you oversensitive — you're highly conscious of how Jason's knee is touching your thigh, and of how, after a few moments, he starts running his hands through your hair, careful not to touch your scalp. You're highly conscious of how your skin is beginning to sweat even when the night is so fresh.

You focus on that same freshness in an attempt to ignore the awful arousal.

So, that's what it is, you think. Arousal.

"It's okay for you to ask… I guess," you tell Jason after a while. "It's not a big secret that she's sad." You concentrate on a cluster of stars that, as far as you remember, is the belt of Orion. Three bright stars floating in a crooked line. It helps you slow down your breathing, focusing on them. Your heart no longer sounds like the violent percussions of some marching band. "And, well, I do spend a lot of time with her lately."

"Yeah… I don't really mind that. Though I must admit it sometimes feels as if you're shutting me out."

You wince at his words, because they make you remember how poor a job you've been doing as his girlfriend.

"About that," you begin, wavering in almost every vowel, "I'm sorry, Jason. Everything's been crazy around here since we got back. What with Bunker 9 and all the activities we're supposed to have and saving Leo's table and celebrating Christmas and New Year and…"

"And Annabeth?"

"Sure. That. I guess, I, um… I've been a little distant. I've been neglecting you. And I'm really sorry."

Your wince, much like the anxiousness that has accompanied you for the last two weeks or so, vanishes after you finish.

Smiling widely, Jason enters your line of sight, supporting himself by placing an elbow next to your head. "It's okay," he says. "It also took me a while to realize how lonely I've been feeling. I mean, Leo's great company — he's hilarious. But he's too busy. And I've tried to distract myself with all these activities, and getting in shape… I guess I just got to a point where I realized I hadn't had a real conversation with someone for days. And that's when I figured, whatever, and brought you out here last week."

Again, Jason blushes at his own corniness. You probably blush a little as well. Close to you as he is, his clear eyes appear darker, almost black; but they reflect the indirect light of the moonlight and shine gray where blue should meet white. You want to get lost in those.

And so, you do.

Jason continues, his voice an even whisper, "And I brought you out here and, modesty aside, I thought it was a great idea."

"It was a great idea," you add.

"Because I remembered why I like you so much, Pipes. And why I'm not all that angry with Hera — or Juno, whatever — for sending me here."

You smile hesitatingly. "Anytime, dude. That's what girlfriends are for, anyway."

He chuckles and leans down to kiss you.

Soon you're feeling that again. The nameless sensation that started it all. Arousal, you remember.

And, even as Jason runs his hands over the ghost of Annabeth's fingertips on your stomach, and as you bury your own fingers in his hair, you allow yourself to be aroused.

Because, Hades, if you don't enjoy this while you're with your boyfriend, you'll be afraid to enjoy it if — or rather, when — it comes to you while being in Annabeth's company.

Review!