Princess Of The Moon 87 is a fucking saint for writing this for me. This is for CreCra's wanted prompt of Jasico pre-slash where Nico and Jason are caught in the woods in a storm and have to seek shelter. Enjoy!
From behind a tree, I peered at the campfire. Nearly everyone sat around the roaring golden flames, Percy with Annabeth, Hazel and Frank, even Jason was there. Jason and his stupid broad shoulders, his tousled blond hair. How rude.
I stalked off into the woods before anyone noticed me, stepping over fallen tree branches and thorny bushes with a purpose: to put as much distance between me and that campfire as possible. Campfires included too many things I hated, all put together.
For example, the main part, fire. Too warm, too bright. S'mores? I'd rather roast my eyeballs over the fire for a few hours, thanks. I'd prefer to listen to Apollo's hideous attempts at poetry than the songs his children came up with.
I batted tree branches out of my way, trying to find even a hint of the trail. The trail wasn't really a trail, in that it hadn't been planned by anyone. It was just the easiest way through the forest, and so many demigods had found and used it that the plants had been trampled or slashed to pieces. Now the little dirt path was worn with footprints, and would take you through the heart of the forest. When I found it, I walked down it for long enough that I couldn't hear the god awful singing anymore and then turned left away from the trail, trekking out on my own.
I did not prefer the ease of the trail. With nothing to do but follow a set path, I had plenty of time to think. The trail was ideal when trying to make a quick getaway from something, be it a monster or a sing-a-long, but when I was just trying to waste time and not think about things, it was better to have to worry about tripping over branches or being eaten by plant-dwelling beasts.
One particular branch got on my nerves once, after I smacked it away from my face, it grabbed my hair. So I unsheathed my sword and with a swish, there went the tree's only left branch. Sucks for you, tree, I thought.
"What'd the poor tree do to you, di Angelo?" I whirled, my sword up, and Jason Grace stepped out from behind a tree, the golden light of his sword making him glow.
"What are you doing? Did you follow me?"
"Maybe," he said. "What are you doing out here?"
"Trying to be alone," I snapped pointedly. "I don't like people, if you haven't noticed."
"You are so antisocial that it's almost unhealthy." Jason fell into step beside me as I continued through the woods. A light breeze rustled the leaves, lifting my hair off my forehead. I shot a sideways glance at Jason as I smoothed it back down. "Don't look at me; that one's all on Pops. Must be a little testy tonight."
A clap of thunder boomed overhead, shaking the trees as lightning illuminated the sky above. My hair stood on end until it went dark and quiet again. I hated thunderstorms. The night was my favorite time, dark and quiet just how I liked it. Thunderstorms always screwed that up.
"Or fucking pissed," I muttered as it thundered again.
Jason said nothing, and when I looked at him his face was turned to the sky, eyes closed. "It's going to rain," he breathed. And just as he said it, a fat drop of rain landed with a plop on the end of my nose. "We should find shelter."
"Shelter? What shelter is there in the woods? Do you and Percy have a secret tree house?"
Jason just stared at me. "Yeah, we go up there late at night to braid each other's hair and talk about boys. No, jackass," he punctuated this by smacking me upside the head, "but there is a cave somewhere in here."
"A cave? How do you know there's a cave?" Jason Grace, with all his blond, well-muscled heroism, did not seem like the type to go spelunking alone in the woods.
"You're not the only one who likes to be alone sometimes, Nico," he said softly, and then continued past me.
Part of me wanted to ask what exactly Jason meant by that, but the other part wanted to push him face first into the quickly muddying dirty as he let go of a branch that smacked me squarely in the face.
We walked in silence, our shoes occasionally squelching in the mud. The rain was falling in sheets now, my hair plastered across my forehead, and I tried not to think about Jason's wet shirt clinging to his body as he started to run.
I followed because, really, what other choice did I have? He took an abrupt left turn and I almost stepped into a puddle that was most like a considerable amount deeper than it looked, but a moment later I had no puddles, or anything else, to worry about because the rain had stopped.
Well, not really. It still rained, drumming against the stone of the cave, making a hollow noise that echoed through the cave and made me want to curl up in a ball and go right to sleep. That was the only thing thunderstorms were good for, sleeping.
"You're soaked," Jason said, shaking his head like a dog, flinging water all over the place.
"No, really?" I muttered, yanking my shirt over my head and wringing it out. When I saw Jason staring at me out of the corner of my eye I tried not to smirk, and threw my shirt at him.
He spluttered as my black shirt (I would not wear that orange camp shirt if you paid me a million bucks) hit him in the chest with a wet smack. "Thanks a lot," he said drily, and I gave him my most winning grin, before spreading myself out on the floor. "What are you doing?"
"Taking a nap."
"Why?" Jason loomed over me, his big dumb blue eyes staring down at me.
"I know we have so many other things to do," I began sarcastically, "but I'm a little tired after trying to keep up with you." He was much taller than me, his strides much longer.
He just sighed, and though my eyes were closed, I heard him walk away and sit down, back against the wall of the cave. It remained quiet for a while, and I was actually nearing sleep when I heard, "You're so boring."
"Blow me, Grace," I spat.
"Okay." I jerked up off the cave floor, and he winked at me. "Time and place, di Angelo. Though as you pointed out, we don't have much to do now."
He was right, we didn't have much to do, but I would not do anything like that, not with Jason Grace. However hot he may be in his wet t-shirt, I would not. Nope. I lowered myself back to the cave floor and forced my eyes shut.
"Nico," he sang, this time from somewhere closer to me. I ignored him, with great difficulty. Until he settled himself on the ground beside me, that is. Then I opened one eye.
The Son of Jupiter had discarded his own shirt by now, and he sat only a few inches from me, staring shamelessly at me. "What do you want?" I asked cautiously, sitting up slowly.
Big mistake. Jason wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled my face against his urgently, though his lips touched mine softly. I faltered briefly, but once I relaxed my hands settled on his thighs, and I didn't even mind that his jeans were wet.
When he sat back, both of us out of breath, he grinned. "That. That's all I wanted."
I pushed a piece of his stupid blond hair out of his face, and then I laced my arms around his neck to pull him back down to me. As my tongue twisted in his mouth, Jason fumbled with my belt buckle. And then, just like that, he stopped.
"What?" I asked. "What's wrong?"
He left his hands where they were, looking out the mouth of the cave. "Shh. Listen."
I paused, taking the opportunity to stare at Jason in silence. His hair was a mess, his eyes wide, his face red. But I didn't hear anything. "What am I listening to?"
"Nothing, exactly. It stopped raining." He smiled and then stood, gathering our shirts.
"What-what are you doing?"
"Well if I had a choice, I'd rather have sex in a bed than a cave wouldn't you?"
I considered this for a minute, and while at the moment I had no objections to a nice cave floor, I finally decided I agreed with Jason and let him pull me to my feet.
Soon we were running through the woods again, this time hand in hand, and when we returned to camp we shut ourselves in my cabin so that no one would bother us. Hopefully.
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