A/N: What can I say? I dove back into the Percy Jackson fandom with a vengeance and got hooked on Perpollo. I wrote this while working on a longer fic, and I can only hope that I finish that one soon. This was really fun for me to write though. It's nice to go back to my roots of writing PJO crack.
Title is from Bizarre Love Triangle by New Order. Hope you enjoy reading!
Zeus was not the one at fault here, really. If anything, it was Poseidon.
You see, if Poseidon hadn't sired a son, then neither one of the two Great Prophecies would have come to pass. If neither of the Great Prophecies had come to pass, then Apollo would not have been forced to undergo such punishment. If Apollo had not been forced to undergo such punishment, he would not have developed more than a surface level relationship with the half-bloods. If he had not developed more than a surface level relationship with the half-bloods, then the Greeks and Romans would not have been able to successfully lobby for half-blood representation in council meetings. If the Greeks and Romans had not successfully lobbied for half-blood representation in council meetings, there would be no reason for Percy Jackson to regularly visit Olympus. Finally, if there was no reason for Percy Jackson to regularly visit Olympus, then Zeus would not have been forced to notice just how handsomely the demigod had grown over the years.
Of course, one could have easily shortened this entire ordeal by saying that if Poseidon hadn't sired Percy Jackson at all, then there would be no Percy Jackson for Zeus to ogle. But Zeus is the king of gods, and thus the lord that rules over all things of and relating to divine justice, and he prefers his methods of laying blame to be exact.
Ergo, he'll blame Poseidon. It's really one of the easiest decisions he's ever made.
With that done, he can finally focus more on his consciousness towards admiring the new object of his desire. The fire of his loins, if he may. His sin, his soul, and all that hogwash. Bah. He'll leave the poetry to his son, thank you very much.
There is a part of him that is studiously taking note of what Percy is saying, of course. The developments for Camp Half-Blood are really quite inspiring, and it seems that continuing the Greek-Roman Exchange Program has both improved relations between the two camps and as well as facilitated the sharing of ideas and customs. He's happy to note that the Greeks will begin celebrating the old holidays like the Romans do, and he admires the show of leadership that allows Percy to confidently say that next February will bear witness to the grandest Anthesteria in centuries.
If there was a part of him that was also admiring the way Percy's shirt was tightly hugging his tiny waist, then that was something nobody could know.
If there was another part of him that was magically enchanting the rest of Percy's shirts to cling to him in the exact same way, then that was something nobody could prove.
And if there was yet another part of him that wanted to do away with the shirts altogether, well then . . . he noticed the way the mortals, demigods, and even other gods looked at the boy. Surely nobody could blame him.
The way it all started could actually be seen as rather sweet, in a way. When he was still a young teenager prophesized to either doom Olympus or save it, the insolent boy had angled his face in such a way that his strong, proud jaw had instantly reminded Zeus of his wife — Hera, back when she was still a young goddess rebelling against their father, titan blood splattered on her face as she licked her sweet lips in anticipation of felling their next enemy. It was this striking resemblance that led to his first experience feeling such lust for one of his brother's progeny. For a terrifying, confusing, exhilarating second, a wave of heat had coursed through his very being at the thought of Percy Jackson.
And then the boy opened his mouth and reminded him that Poseidon's infuriating brand of idiocy was genetic, and he furiously stamped out most of his budding attraction with a stubborn foot. Literally. Hephaestus was still due to fix his bedroom floors anytime soon.
Hm. Speaking of his bedroom.
"I suppose that as recompense for serving us for so long, you deserve a boon," Zeus announced, as gloriously as possible. "By the powers of Olympus, we shall be giving you a house."
Percy's expression was incredulous. "A house," he repeated.
Zeus nodded. "Yes, a house. Surely Olympus' ambassador for the half-bloods is deserving of his own property. You shall have it fully furnished, of course. And for convenience's sake, we'll put in an easy way for you to come to and fro the two camps and the throne room here."
Apollo cheered. "Yes! Housewarming party!"
Poseidon had a wry smile on his face, waving his hand lazily. "I don't suppose you would allow a similar connection to be made between this house and my kingdom, brother?"
Zeus gritted his teeth. His godly sight did not allow him to peek into the depths of Atlantis. "You will have to manage that on your own terms, Poseidon."
Percy's eyes brightened. "Oh," he smiled, "I have been meaning to visit Triton more. A portal-thingy straight to the palace would be great."
Poseidon aimed an expectant look at him, while Percy grinned, ever-endearingly.
Zeus allowed the construction of a magical passageway between Percy's house and Atlantis.
He had also facilitated the craft of an exact replica of his bed for Percy to lay in at night, charitably donating his own sheets for the young demigod. Later, he allowed himself the quickest, most innocent of peeks at how those long legs looked splayed on his finest silk, and by the gods, even the split-second image he got was sinful. That, Zeus concluded as he breathed heavily on his own bed, was easily one of the best solo sessions he had in millennia.
Later, he took the opportunity to indulge himself further.
Zeus cleared his throat. "I believe I am owed a proper show of gratitude for what I did for you."
Percy rolled his eyes. Dryly, he said, "Gee thanks, Zeus. I sure am glad that I spent years being traumatized by war and the deaths of my friends, and then being tasked with being what is essentially an unpaid and underqualified diplomat just for you to allow me to see another day."
"I meant for the gift," he said. "And do it properly."
The demigod looked at him for a moment, and he must have felt bored or curious or intrigued enough to be indulgent. Whatever the case, Zeus watched hungrily as his lips curled and his lashes lowered and he practically purred out, "Many thanks, my lord."
His knees felt weak.
"That will do," he said, and Percy gave him a slight smile before he was whisked away, Apollo already chattering away in his ear.
I have this in control, Zeus thought to himself, after banishing his sixth tissue.
He may not have this in control.
Triton had warmed up enough to his demigod brother that he often gave him gifts. These gifts often came in the form of taking trips together every few months or so, with the excuse that he was training Percy in the arts of hydrokinesis and other abilities of the sea. But sometimes, this came in the form of jewelry, the sea heir's snotty voice explaining that Poseidon's only demigod son deserved to receive what were essentially their family heirlooms. Zeus had observed that Percy did not have much care for accessories or in his personal fashion sense at all, so when he saw Percy with yet another jewelry box in his hands, he thought little of it.
And then the next council meeting came, where Percy Jackson walked in with golden ear cuffs bedazzled with tiny diamonds and sapphires, and Zeus' brain short-circuited. The next thing he knew, he was announcing an Olympian ball for next month, where the theme was golden and everyone was advised strictly to come in their finest ancient robes and accoutrements.
"Something has changed in you," said Hestia, when everyone else had left. "Expressing an open invitation for the children to attend an Olympian party? That is not the Zeus that locked Olympus down years ago."
He made a show of puffing out his chest. "It is a time of peace, and my mind is settled. I would only be happy to show the demigods Olympus at its most festive."
His sister's eyes bored into him. She warned, "Just make sure that you are opening your doors for the right reasons, brother. I would hate to find you acting selfishly, after all this time."
"You have nothing to worry about," Zeus affirmed, even though he was privately thinking about another thing that he would like to be spread open. Preferably only for him. "Is this not the whole point that Percy Jackson spends so much time at this palace? That the promise of gods and demigods living in harmony would be upheld?"
Hestia looked at him for a moment and then sighed, seemingly both annoyed and resigned. "When I wished for you to get along with Perseus better, by the Fates, I did not wish for it to happen like this. You cannot fuck him, Zeus."
"I didn't—" Zeus sputtered. He took a moment to calm himself. "I am not planning on doing so."
"See that you never do," said Hestia. "I would hate to scavenge your essence after Poseidon and Apollo are done with it."
She vanished back to her hearth, leaving Zeus in a state of bewilderment. Poseidon, he could understand. But what did Apollo have to do with anything?
Zeus was awash with thanks and praises from the Olympians, grateful that they could use the opportunity to meet with their children and bond. He gave the faintest nod of approval and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand. He even had a short talk with Thalia and Jason when they arrived. And before she left to appease the other guests, he had promised Hera that he would play nice. She curled her lip in distaste, obviously not believing him for a second, but she left him alone all the same.
The music he was hearing was a fun and saucy salsa beat, and a smile formed on his face as he waded through the crowds to find who this party was really for.
Percy Jackson was a sight to behold tonight. His chiton was woven from the seas of the Mediterranean and his muscles were accentuated by the Atlantean arm bands that he wore, doubtlessly gifts from Poseidon. The sunset-colored himation he wore was sewn with all the symbols of the cabins at Camp Half-Blood, while the metal clasp was engraved with the symbol of Camp Jupiter. His cheekbones sparkled with golden dust which, along with the kohl lined around his eyes, made his gaze all the more piercing. Golden laurels rested on his wavy hair, paired with tiny pearls, and he was wearing those damned ear cuffs as well. Not only did he look stunning — he looked powerful enough to be divine. Zeus could excuse the way Percy inherited much of Poseidon's likeness if it made him look so damn good.
Right when he was about to turn into a swan and seduce the demigod the old-fashioned way, a burst of sunlight materialized by his presence.
"Hello Father," greeted Apollo brightly, but there was no friendliness in his eyes. "It's about time we have a long overdue chat, don't you think?"
His jaw tightened. "I have plans."
"Oh, I bet you do," said Apollo. His grin widened, his incisors sharp.
With a snap of his fingers, he teleported the both of them away to a corner where everyone was too drunk to pay them much attention. Mercifully, the spot was still perfect for watching Percy entertain a pair of minor deities. That chiton was awfully short, Zeus mused. His thighs were glorious, and he bet they would feel just as good as they looked wrapped around his—
"What do you think you're doing?" his son rounded on him, furious. Apollo followed his line of sight and his nostrils flared out in anger. Perhaps he did not want to be outshined.
Zeus frowned. "I was about to ask you the very same thing. What business do you have interrupting your king's affairs?"
Apollo turned back to face him, his eyes wild and bright. "It's my business when my king is planning on having an affair with my lover!"
Hm. This was an unpleasant development, but no matter. "It is decided then. We shall share the bed of Percy Jackson!" Zeus declared.
Apollo yelped, hastily reaching out to grip his arms so tightly he thought ichor would burst. "Would it kill you to keep your voice down?" he hissed. "I can't have anyone overhear this. If Poseidon finds out I'm courting his son, he'll obliterate me sooner than you can say cradle robber. I can't have you undo all the progress I've made just because you can't keep your master bolt in your pants!"
"I'll have you know, I've shown quite a bit of restraint. I've been nothing but respectful to Perseus," Zeus defended, studiously ignoring all the lingerie he had conjured to perfectly fit Percy's measurements. Nothing but an exercise of both his magic and imagination. Apollo scoffed in disbelief. Annoyed, Zeus ripped himself free from his grip. "It is also most disingenuous to call him your lover when you haven't even finished courting him. It is clear to me now that you are simply wasting my time. Now if you'll excuse me—"
"You're not going anywhere," Apollo said lowly. "I'm serious, Father. About him. Please."
Zeus paused. The sun god never begged, and the fact that he was doing so now spoke volumes of his devotion. "You would pledge yourself to him? "
Apollo swallowed. "At the soonest daybreak, if that's what it takes for you to believe me."
He looked so earnest that it was uncomfortable to look at him for long. The music took on a more somber tone, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Percy was now raising a toast with his demigod friends. He could tell that Apollo was watching them too, though he supposed that he was more enthused with the way that Percy's laughter was a clear expression of delight rather than the long line of Percy's neck. Zeus sighed. "I believe you. I only wish you had told me of your intentions sooner."
"I would have thought," said Apollo slowly, as if he thought Zeus was an idiot, "that the fact he has been wearing my gifts for the past month would have made our relationship clear."
Zeus huffed. How was he supposed to know that his son had his eyes set on Percy Jackson as well? Though in hindsight, he thought as he looked at Percy again, the fact that the demigod's ear cuffs were literally in the shape of a sun's rays should have been evidence enough.
"Must have been too preoccupied to notice. I have many important things on my mind, after all," said Zeus. Apollo nodded, barely holding in a smile. Oh right. God of truth. Zeus cleared his throat in an attempt to compose himself. "Although, of course, if you are willing to wait until daybreak to claim the demigod as yours, then I suppose that you would have no problem with me taking him for the night. In fact, I encourage you to take your time wooing him properly. I shall accompany him until then."
Apollo's smile froze.
"I'm still willing to share," Zeus offered. "Or you could simply watch. I don't mind."
"Oh Fates, I can't deal with this," Apollo muttered to himself. He then vanished, presumably to mull over his decision for longer. Zeus shrugged and called a nymph to get him a drink. He was confident that Apollo would soon see the light and agree anyway.
His thunderbolt blue eyes met with Percy Jackson's sea green from across the room, and Zeus could've sworn that the demigod was laughing at him.
The next day, Zeus received a picture from Apollo. Percy was laying down on the god's bare chest, still wearing those damned golden ear cuffs. His eyes were half-lidded and his smile was inviting. It contrasted greatly with the way that Apollo was sticking his tongue out at the camera. The multiple bite marks on Percy's throat left no doubt as to what they were doing together, and it seemed that though they were especially vigorous too. Inscribed at the back was a smug taunt: Sorry, his bed only has room for me. xoxo
Zeus couldn't even bring himself to be insulted. He only mourned that the photo only teased, but did not actually show, the curves of Percy's naked body.
Still, Zeus wasn't daily accused of being opportunistic bastard for nothing.
Curse my brother for siring such a beautiful, unattainable son, Zeus thought to himself. With nary a second of hesitation, he sighed and summoned his tenth tissue box of the month.
