Summary: All the times they absolutelytotallycompletely could have kissed but didn't. Percy/Annabeth. Set before TLO.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, good ol' Uncle Rick deserves all the credit for the characters.
A/N: I haven't written on this site in literal YEARS. But with extra time on my hands and after rereading this series for the millionth time, these 10,000 words literally poured out of me and the next thing I knew it was done.
Hope y'all enjoy! I'm new to this fandom (and since it's been years since the first PJO was published, I'm assuming it might be quiet around here these days) but I hope to hear your feedback in a review!
"Remind me again how this isn't one of your famously awful plans?"
He rolls his eyes and scoffs. "First off, my plans might not be Athena approved but I'm pretty sure they've saved your ass, thank you very much," she gives him an instinctual, annoyed shove but doesn't interrupt, "and c'mon. Plenty of half-bloods still play sports. Chiron even recommended it, just as long as we don't show off too much. Is that what you're worried about? That I'll be so impossibly amazing?" He sends her a smirk but his eyes are light, joking and inviting her challenge.
She balls her fists. It's her turn to roll her eyes. "Gods. Turns out it's not just the ocean kelp water that turns your brain to mush, chlorine can do it too."
"You never give Connor and Travis shit for being on the track team, owl eyes," he retorts back.
"Because they don't have a nasty habit of drawing too much attention to themselves! Do I even need to mention dodgeball and Kelli?"
"That doesn't count. I can't help that I have bacon scented blood when it comes to monsters. Besides, I've played other sports Annabeth. What's so different about swimming?" He pauses, and she notes that they're outside of the locker rooms now. She should really start heading back to the pool to try and find Grover and Sally in the bleachers.
"You're the son of Poseidon," she hisses under her breath after shooting a quick glance down the hall. "Participating in a swim meet isn't just unfair to the other kids, but it's kind of like screaming 'hey, I have literal godly powers! Monsters, it's an all you can eat seafood buffet, right here on the diving board!"
"We aren't having a diving competition today."
"Whatever, that's so not my point" she snaps.
"You really think I have godly powers?"
She tries to stop the rosy heat that rises in her cheeks, but it's too late. "Oh you know what I mean. Just be careful, seaweed brain."
She turns on her heel and stalks away from him down the hall.
"I'll look for your 'Percy is a Greek God' sign in the audience!" He yells after her with an apparent chuckle in his voice. When she turns around quickly to toss a retort back, he's disappeared behind the locker room door.
When she sees him again, he's in a pair of loose track pants and a hoodie, huddled around a group of guys in similar outfits and one bald man with a clipboard frantically waving his arms around, looking to be spouting off directions. Annabeth could spot a battle plan being made miles away, even if it was just for a high school swim meet.
She still couldn't believe what a spectacularly bad idea this whole thing was. She wasn't even planning on coming, mostly because she didn't even know about it, but Grover had mentioned it last week at camp when she asked what he would be doing when he came into the city to visit Percy. He didn't tell her he had joined the swim team purposely, she was sure, because he knew that she would point out what a spectacularly bad idea this whole thing was.
When she called and asked him about it, she could literally hear the shrug in his voice. He even told her the call wasn't worth risking the monsters that might follow if all she was going to do was lecture him about the ethics behind competing against normal mortals. She had simply cut him off, informing him that she didn't trust him to have a handle on any situation that might arise and therefore she would be accompanying Grover.
A whistle blew, and a few of the guys from Percy's group made their way over the edges of the lanes in the pool. Percy simply moved to the sidelines, jumping in place as if to keep his muscles warmed and awake. She'd see him do that a million times before in between the sparring lessons he gave at camp, keeping himself energized before his own training session. His races must be later on, she figured.
Another whistle blows about two minutes later and when the boys begin to strip suddenly, she is absolutely caught off guard by the uniform. All of them are in tight, tiny and shiny blue speedos with the word GOODE plastered across their asses. She can't help but laugh at the sight and bites down hard on her lip to contain her cackles at the thought of seeing Percy in the uniform. She'd seen him a swimsuit a thousand times on the beach and canoe lake at camp, but most of the time he modestly kept an orange shirt on and his trunks were usually knee length. Oh, the mileage she would be able to get out of teasing him for this was so worth coming.
The meet was longer than she expected, but his team seemed to be doing well against the other school. After a while, she automatically pulled out a book—she told herself that she just needed to jot down some notes while she had some free time, and besides, Percy wasn't even in the water yet. If only she had thought to bring Daedalus' laptop, she was still deciphering through his schematics and scrawl.
In the middle of scratching down a physics formula over the Ancient Greek text, Grover nudges her in the ribs and juts his chin out toward the pool, a grin flashing on his face.
Finally, Percy was standing beside the pool, a concentrated look on his face as his coach stood beside him. He wore the same face at war meetings or during a game of capture the flag, so focused and an edge to his jaw, like he had something to prove. Once his coach walked away, he grabbed at the collar of his shirt and started to tug. To say the very least, Annabeth was not prepared for what she saw.
This whole meet, she had been anticipating doubling over in laughter once she laid eyes on her awkward and gangly best friend stuffed into a speedo. What she saw instead, however, left her with a gapped mouth and an extremely evident rush of heat across her cheeks.
Percy looked, Percy was, oh gods, Percy... was sexy. Normally just the thought alone would bring a giggle to her, thinking of him faltering with his capture the flag armor or falling off the rock climbing wall with an embarrassing thud. But those memories clearly aren't serving her, she must have him frozen in time as the boy that drools in his sleep, because that definitely isn't who he is now.
Today, he was tall and striking, his foamy green eyes piercing even from a distance and his jawline pronounced. His arms were defined and had filled out, much like his shoulders, and the evidence of his trained figure had never been so clear as he took one long stretch upwards to the sky, his muscles rippling like waves down his back. Her gaze fixed intently on the toned flatness of his stomach, six individual abs peeking over a trail of hair disappearing in his tight speedo, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Dear Zeus in Olympus, he looked so good she might be the one drooling now.
Grover and Sally shared a look over her head that didn't go unnoticed, and her blush deepened somehow. Sally had a teasing, soft smile on her face, like she was planning on making some comment to Percy later, and Grover nudged her with his shoulder, not being able to contain his snickers. She dug her fingernails into her palm, cursing that stupid floppy haired boy for making her look so stupid right now, in front of his mother for gods sakes.
"Go Percy!" Someone shouted from behind them, and Annabeth's head whipped around so fast she almost felt dizzy. There, about three rows back, was that foolish mortal girl with those stupid frizzy curls—I mean really, between fighting off dozens of monsters and saving the world every other day, Annabeth still managed to condition her hair.
Percy always liked my curls, she thought proudly. Then she cursed herself; why does it even matter!? It doesn't, she told herself firmly. She couldn't care less if he liked her curls more than hers, and obviously he must, all he would have to do is tuck one behind her ear or run a hand over the spirals down her back—
No, she said firmly. Stop that.
She looked hesitantly at the ceiling, half expecting Athena to blast her out of her seat for thinking so... fondly of a son of Poseidon.
Rachel put a hand up and waved pleasantly down at their row, smiling widely at Sally in particular. Annabeth gave a simple curt smile back and turned back, cupping her hand around her mouth and screaming, "Kick some butt, Seaweed Brain!" Loud enough to earn a quick flashing smile from Percy in her direction.
There, she thought smugly. Percy didn't look back when Rachel cheered. Percy, with his strong arms and soft eyes and hands that fit so perfectly in hers—
Dear Zeus, stop. It. It's just Percy. Her goofy best friend who just so happened to be taller and less scrawny, so what.
Besides, she was the one that was sitting with Sally, his mom, and Grover, his best friend. Obviously she was more important to him. What was Rachel even doing here, anyway?
That thought jarred her. What was she doing here?
"Grover," Annabeth demanded, "Why is she here?" Narrowing her eyes and folding her arms over her chest petulantly.
He shrugged simply, looking over her form with something unrecognizable in his eyes. "Percy invited her. I mean, they go to school together. She comes to all his things. Why?" A smirk lifts the edges of his mouth, like he's challenging her.
Her eyes narrow further, into skinny slits. "I—" the sound of a whistle cuts her off.
Turning back towards the pool, she sees Percy's legs kick up as he glides into the water. She can't help but beam, watching him come to life as he jets down the lane, perfect technique and all. She catches glimpses of his arms propelling him, muscles strong with tension as they work. They must've been saving him for the important races at the end, she muses, because he has a commanding lead over everyone else by almost a full minute. When he reaches the end of his lane, she notices his hesitation as he turns around, notably pausing before striking back into action. She's been with him on the battlefield enough to know that Percy Jackson doesn't hesitate.
He comes in first in only one of his events, marking a staggering second and fourth in the others. He ranked just high enough for his team to win, and once he thrusts himself out of the pool his teammates swarm around him raving and chanting crazily in ceremony. Once he's done being tossed around by his friends, he glances up to the bleachers and immediately finds her eyes. He smirks and raises his chin towards her, and in that moment she wonders how pride isn't his fatal flaw.
"Show off," she mouths down to him with a customary roll of her eyes. His smirk softens into a chucking smile and he gets caught up with his team again, high fiving and ducking his head as they place his medals over his neck.
She's the only one standing in the hall outside the locker room she left him at before. Most of the team had already left, and Sally and Grover had decided to go pull the car around while she volunteered to stay and wait for him.
He materialized through the door laughing, throwing a jab at one of his teammates still behind him and coaxing a hand through his wet hair. He had his track pants back on and a duffle bag strung over his shoulder, but he was holding on to his shirt in his hands like it was an afterthought to put it on.
He drank in Annabeth's presence quickly with a surprised look on his face, and he looked down bashfully when he realized he was half naked in front of her.
She couldn't contain her stare as she watched a few beads of water trickle down the creases in his abs, and just as she was about to watch them disappear down the happy trail peaking over his pants, he had slipped his shirt back on over his head. She had to physically hold back a sigh of disappointment.
"So second and fourth place, huh?" She teased up at him, regaining her composure. She took note of how he was watching her stare with an almost puzzled expression, like he wasn't sure if he had been imagining it or not. She felt her dignity rush back to her as he shook his head clear, grateful he wasn't going to address her gawking.
"C'mon, you really thought I was gonna go hard? You know that wouldn't be fair," he said simply with a shrug, "besides, a lot of them were really good." His tone was sincere and humble, and her heart fluttered at his kindness. Damn seaweed brain, always being such a genuinely good guy beneath all the sarcasm and stupid smirks.
She cut in front of him with a half turn so she was directly facing him, leaving barely a foot in between their faces.
"I'll totally deny saying this if you tell anyone but you were really good, Percy. Really good."
His hand cupped the back of his neck as pink peppered the tops of his ears, and he looked shyly down at her.
"You're always the hero, huh? Even at a silly high school swim meet?" She scrunches her nose in jest but her grey eyes shine clearly at him with admiration, and he instinctually takes a step closer to her.
She gently rests a hand on his arm and their eyes lock firmly before his dart down, and oh gods, she swears he's looking at her lips while licking his own. She can't help but lean in just a millimeter more and she can sense him do the same. Her eyes close as she thinks back to when they were at Mount St. Helens and she had so desperately wanted to grab him by his collar and kiss him senseless. She silently pleads with him to close the stupid distance between them, to snake an arm around her waist and just—
"Ahem," a small voice clears her throat and Annabeth can feel Percy shoot back like Zeus zapped him with lightning.
The red headed nightmare herself was standing before them with a sheepish look on her face. "Um, hey," she says casually, almost even nervously, and Annabeth refrains from scoffing as her arms cross instinctively.
Percy smiles at Rachel naturally and Annabeth's stomach twists. "Hey yourself," he replies jokingly, "I can't believe you made it!"
She visibly relaxes and shakes her head at him. "I told you my parents didn't drag me out to the Hamptons this weekend." He grins widely back at her and now it's Annabeth who feels like clearing her throat.
"Well," she interrupts bluntly, "Chiron must be expecting me back at camp soon. I should probably get going."
Percy looked back at her as his smile fell clean off his face. "You're not staying?" He asked without hiding the disappointment in his voice.
"No, I don't think I will," she huffs out. "I'll see you, what, in a few months?" Her arms stay crossed and she avoids eye contact.
He looks back at her blankly, like he can't quite process what just happened. "I—yeah, yeah. I guess."
"See you," she punches out and turns swiftly away, not looking back at the pair as she tries not to stomp down the hallway.
He'd been a camp counselor technically since he had first been claimed, as he was the only one in Poseidon's cabin. She had been appointed quickly since she had been at camp so long, right when they got back from their quest to the sea of monsters. He honestly had been surprised it even took that long, but a lot of Athena's children's fatal flaw was pride, so he assumes there were some bruised egos involved with her and her siblings when they came to the conclusion.
Here, almost three years later, he questioned how the camp had even functioned before she was officially granted the leadership role. Her cabin always had schedules posted on their door, individualized down the minute for every one of her siblings. She had also reconfigured the schedule for booking the arena and training courses, optimizing time and efficiency for every single cabin.
Since he didn't really have a group to lead, and being that it was him, he didn't really have any extra responsibilities. After all, a cabin inspection for him just meant he'd clean up the blue candy wrappers caught under his bunk and maybe make his bed for the first time all week. Just the way he liked it.
Once Annabeth caught wind that he was, erm, taking it easy—she of course had used other words—she demanded that they complete the duties of camp counselors together. Essentially, she was supervising him and forcing him to actually do work, which was horrifically cruel in his eyes.
She flipped a page on her clipboard.
"Hmm, what's next," she mused as her eyes poured over her endless lists. Her tongue poked out ever so slightly as she bit it in concentration, and his gaze transfixed on that single point. She looked so good right here in front of him, tousled hair falling over her shoulders as the bright sun bled through it like a sheer curtain. And she smelled exactly like summer, a little bit of last night's campfire still clinging to her and ripe strawberries.
"Ooh!" She erupted, snapping him back from his drifting thoughts. "We need to go check the stables and the nymphs, and then we can circle back for inspections."
He sighs, wondering how she can sound so excited about doing these tasks. At least they're going to the stables, though.
She saw the dejected and lazy look in his eyes and rolled hers in response. She grabs him by his forearm and pulls gruffly, and he melodramatically falls in line after her.
She thought they had been less than productive at the stables, despite Percy cleaning them out with ease as he blasted them with buckets of water.
"So much easier than Geryon's," he mutters under his breath. Blackjack applauded in Percy's mind, much like all the other Pegasi telepathically thanking him.
After he had cleaned out every stable—which he didn't even understand, usually it was a cabin duty or done by the cleaning harpies, not the counselors—he poked at her with some of the straw littering the floor, and she took the bait by ducking from his next attempt and throwing a clean elbow jab into his ribs.
He scoffed painlessly, more offended by her challenge. Annabeth was one of the few demigods that could inspire his competitive side.
"Oh, you're so done for, owl face," he snapped, rising to face her. He lunged in trying to grab her wrist to twist it behind her back. Her wit and reflexes worked faster than he did as she spun quickly to his other side, getting another quick jab of her fist against a kidney.
"Bring it on, SpongeBob," she retorted back, her pride palpable in the air. He smirked simply back, and willed the water trickling out from each horse's stable to slip around her ankle and trip her onto her ass.
She fell suddenly with a solid thunk, and he let out a deep bellied laugh. He held out a friendly hand to help her up, clearly thinking he had won and their squabble was over in his victory.
She glowered up at him and quickly judo flipped him over her, standing swiftly and showingly wiping her hands off on her jean shorts.
He looked up under his fringed black hair, and she stood solidly with a confident smirk twitching at the edges of her lips. Shaking her head, she lamented, "You have so much to learn still. And if you ever, ever, use Pegasus poop water against me again, I'll assign your cabin to Mr. D's personal assistant service for a month." Without missing a beat she strutted out of the stables, not bothering to see if he was following.
He sat there for a moment more, completely stunned. Swear to Zeus, one of these days he was actually going to beat her in a fight.
Their time with the nymphs went much more productively. If he hadn't been counting down the months till his sixteenth birthday, painfully aware of the impending war, he would have thought nothing could be wrong in the world watching them. They frolicked and giggled, braiding flowers in and out of each other's hair and pranking others with spells in green billowing pollen. They seemed so uninhibited by the heavy air laying over the rest of the camp, compelling the demigods to wake up earlier, push longer, and train harder than ever before.
Thankfully, they also had no bad news to report. The boundaries of the forest and across the rest of the camp were—knock on wood—peaceful, for the time being. No new forces stirred from the earth that they could sense. The river nymphs were particularly happy the games of capture the flag had been few and far between, as no demigods had been stomping through the water and muddying it up, as they put it. He almost felt like they were taking a personal dig at him in particular.
Him and Annabeth walked side by side back to the cabins, gearing up for inspections. She ran through the code list that they were to be referencing, and she confidently said that the Athena cabin was likely to win first shower privileges for the third week in a row.
They worked in reverse order, starting with cabin 12. Hermes' cabin was as usual a mess, kids frantically running around and stashing one another's belongings.
Hephaestus's also was pretty rough, with half-finished tinkerings littering desks and a handful of the campers dampening the smoking scorched curtains, no doubt caught on fire by some mechanical project. Percy ultimately settled on the Demeter cabin being the neatest as they had woven fresh flowers into the thatched roof, and Annabeth had no choice but to agree as the Athena campers had left scratches of battle plans and open books on some of their beds.
After exiting cabin four, he began walking towards the combat arena, planning on slashing at some dummies before lunch at the mess hall.
"Where are you going?" She called after him. "Yours is the last one, don't think you're getting out of an inspection."
"I'm the only one even in there," he whined. "I clearly didn't come in first or last, and Tyson isn't here so don't expect the saltwater fountain to be scrubbed." He shrugged simply, trying to say it wasn't even worth it to inspect.
She tapped a pencil against her cheeks. "No one is exempt. Now, c'mon." He groaned dramatically while tilting his head back, but dragged his feet across the threshold of his cabin.
"How are you even a counselor," she muttered.
She walked in and peered under the beds while he rolled his eyes.
"Dude, you know no one else lives here," he says defensively as she kept scanning the empty bunks.
She sighs lightly and doesn't try to argue back. She plops herself plainly on his bed, and for a second he nervously looks at the closed door of the cabin. This is so against the rules, he thinks to himself. And how many times had Annabeth even been in his cabin, let alone sat on his bed? She was an absolute abider to the rules.
She throws her head back onto his sheets, with a humorless laugh escaping her lips as she looks at the bunk above her.
"Ugh, let's just stay in here for the rest of the day and hide."
He rubbed his finger in his ear, sure that a wax buildup distorted what she just said. No way was Annabeth here, laying down in his bed without a care in the world, insisting that they avoid work.
"You okay?" He questions cautiously.
She laughed again, that similar sound of bells tinkling gone from it. "No, I absolutely do not think I am okay."
His brows furrowed in genuine worry. Literally, what was going on? She was seldom so openly vulnerable and honest, especially on what had seemed to him a normal day at camp. What had her so disheartened?
"It's this stupid war, Percy," she said as if reading his mind, "this stupid war that doesn't even feel like ours to fight."
He looked nervously up, wondering if the cabin was going to start shaking from the gods' anger. "You sound like Luke," he noted, trying to contain the resentment in his voice.
She sighed and rolled her eyes tiredly. "Well, isn't he at least a little bit right? I mean, for god's sake, you didn't even know you were a demigod a few years ago and now the entire fate of the world will be in your hands in less than a year? It's just not fair."
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He hated hearing this. Who cares if it was fair? The prophecy was real and was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not. Why bother stomping his foot like an antagonized kid trying to get their way?
"I know you probably think I'm being childish," she sighs out, again reading his mind, "but on days like today I just feel... I feel fucking angry, Percy. I feel fucking angry that we can't just go spar for a while and then cool off in the lake and enjoy some stupid freaking s'mores at the campfire later. I just want a freaking s'more, is that too much to ask?" She sits up at the last sentence, looking frayed.
He moves his pillow up and sits flush against her, casually slinging an arm across her shoulders and drawing her in. He had always been aware of Annabeth's respect for personal space, but lately, they seemed to be magnetized together. Every time one of them felt a pull from the other, whether it be a need for support or even just a simple laugh, they felt like they couldn't help but hug or slip their hands into the others or even just a reassuring squeeze on their arms. It just felt natural; they were best friends, and they had really been leaning on each other lately.
"I'll make you the best s'more you've ever had tonight. Crispy golden brown, not even a little bit burnt," he promised with a sympathetic smile.
She mustered up a soft laugh and smile to match.
"You really never feel bitter about any of this?" She asked earnestly.
He shrugged and she winced back, unable to understand his ease. "Look, obviously this is not how I pictured my sixteenth birthday would go. I swear, if Poseidon doesn't at least take me to the DMV that day for my permit..."
She laughed again and her head slipped into the nook between his shoulders and chin. She rested there for a minute, but then sat up and pulled a leg in as she turned to face him. She looked down and picked at a string on the bed, unable to meet his eyes.
"Let's pretend we're just normal kids at a summer camp, no stupid prophecies or titans to fight. Just a guy and a girl with nothing to do but tye dye pillowcases at the arts and crafts pavilion."
He laughs and grins widely at the thought. "Our big adventure for the summer can be sneaking out at night to the beach. I'd have smuggled in a few beers for us to enjoy, like a totally normal teenager would."
Her smile brims, but she still hasn't raised her head to look at him. He could still feel her sadness looming beneath the surface.
"Hey," he says more gently, cupping her chin gently to lift her gaze. Her eyes were big and watery, and he could tell she was embarrassed by it. "When this is all over, we can be normal. Boring, even. All we'll have to do is homework and argue about what movie to watch. We'll lock ourselves in my apartment and I'll play video games while you read or something. Totally boring."
He pulled her closer, and she immediately nestled herself against his chest. He caught a whiff of her strawberry scented shampoo again, and placed his cheek comfortably against her head while running a hand soothingly up and down her back.
His chest felt like it was on fire, and the heat rose to his face. They'd never been this intimate before, much less alone in an empty cabin on a bed. They were completely pressed against one another, her warmth radiating against his heart. He thought about how easy it would be to lift her chin again, to stare down at her tantalizing lips and press his own against hers...
And then she pulled back, steely eyes and back to being her guarded, stable self. She scanned the room again, scrunched her nose, and said, "Ugh, I guess you can be in fourth, behind the Apollo and Aphrodite cabins." She stood and picked up her clipboard, quickly scratching notes on it. She headed to the doorway, looking back.
He must've looked pretty lame. He almost felt like he was pouting now, missing the feel of her skin against his. He had been so close, why didn't he even try to make a move? He scratched the back of his neck nervously.
"You coming? Next is the combat arena," she states, opening the door and disappearing out of it.
He groaned in frustration but got up to follow her. Gods, why couldn't they just be normal teenagers for five minutes?
A few weeks later, he takes himself up on that plan to sneak down to the beach at night. He momentarily pauses on his way out the door, brainstorming ways he could sneak her out of her own cabin filled with her other siblings. Shaking his head, he decides those brainiacs probably have the entire place booby-trapped. Besides, he's sure she would just want to report him to the cleaning harpies for breaking curfew.
They both tried to coordinate a day off to enjoy together; no counselor responsibilities, war meetings or training, but there legitimately was no time to take off between the two of them. They tried aligning their schedules to take a full afternoon off together, and it simply never worked out. He put in twice the normal amount of time in the archery range to make up for the time he would lose, and then she wound up getting pulled in to a strategy session with Beckendorf and Chiron; she would wake up two hours early to get extra laps on a Pegasus done, and then Chiron would send Percy on a last minute scouting mission to the city for the afternoon. The world was simply against them.
He headed to the sound with a woven blanket she made him as a Christmas gift, courtesy of her Athenian level craft skills. He hadn't known this kind of still peace for what seemed like months. A light breeze tickled the trees lining the perimeter of the woods to his right, and a comforting hum of insects pulsed in the dark. Of all the stretches of beach he had seen, nothing could top this piece of the Long Island sound.
He ran his hand over the beds on his necklace before pulling his shirt over his head, leaving him only in his swim trunks. A couple of sea nymphs splashed in the distance with dark blushes adorning their cheeks, highlighted by a beam of moonlight, before disappearing under the water.
He laid down on the blanket and stared up at the various constellations, picking out the ones he remembered from Annabeth's lessons. He thought fondly about previous summers where they would be sitting by the fire and she would nudge him lightly, pointing upward and quizzing him on what star blob was what. The only ones he really could picture were Orion and the Big Dipper. Otherwise, he thinks the ancient Greeks were kind of exaggerating when they claimed to see a giant sea goat in star form.
Staring upwards and thinking about the gods and their stories made him restless once again, or maybe it was just his ADHD not letting him sit still. He sat up and stared out in front of him, the calmness of the water beating against the beach, steading him again. Standing up, he waded into the waves, feeling the white foam tickle his toes as he stepped in. He instantly felt lighter, and dove straight in. Man, he couldn't even remember the last time he got to swim here.
He swirled in the water for a while, his eyes seeing everything in the dark as if he had night vision goggles on. He playfully chased some hippocampi before spinning around back to the surface. His head bobs above the waves and he makes out a silver figure walking towards the beach front.
Dammit, he curses internally. He's been found.
He swims reluctantly back to shore, thinking of how this short reprieve of real life, of his life was totally not worth it. He thinks over a list of his classic excuses, thinking of how he'll say he was summoned by some mystical sea force in his sleep and needed to follow it.
He's so preoccupied combing his hands through his hair anxiously that he doesn't even identify who's standing before him when he emerges.
"Look, I know how this looks, but this floating sea urchin thing woke me up and— "he's cut off by her laughter as she doubled over holding her ribs.
"Floating sea urchin? Gods, you really need to work on your lying." She smirks at him and a few fringy curls fall in front of her eyes.
He lets out a huge sigh of relief and then rolls his eyes promptly. "I thought you were a harpy or something," he mutters, kicking a rock down the shore idly.
Her smirk pulls further up her face. "A harpy? Jeez. I know I'm not an Aphrodite kid, but ouch."
"Oh, you know what I mean." He sits down on the blanket he set out earlier and she joins him. They sat in silence for a few moments, her head tilted back admiring the stars.
He sneaks a glance over at her, her grey eyes shining like the silver of Artemis' bow. Curls exploded out of her low ponytail, and she has a sheer white dress looking outfit on over a matching white swimsuit. His breath catches, but he clears his throat and looks away before she catches his gaze.
"How did you know I was out here, anyway?"
She shrugs. "Didn't know you'd be out here, actually. I dunno, I just kinda felt like I needed to come here tonight." He quips an eyebrow up and she blushes deeply, looking away. "I mean, um, this is one of my favorite places to clear my head."
A moment passes and she quickly keeps talking. "Not because of you, or anything. Well, actually, this place does make me think of you, but that's not why..." she trails off when she sees him snickering, a hand rested over his mouth, bemused.
She sighs deeply and smacks his arm. "Oh, never mind."
"I think you should keep going. I think you were about to talk about how you came down here to be reminded of me, to think about me, to admire my heroism and— "
"—and utter and complete stupidity?"
"But you still admire the heroism?"
She smacks him again. "Gods, you're annoying."
"You're still not denying it." She completely shoved him over that time.
More comfortable silence passes them by, and he stretches out a leg lazily against hers. He had enjoyed his time in the water, but even that didn't give him the recharge that free, easy time with Annabeth did.
"What a perfect night," she muses wistfully. "You can't beat this view."
His gaze stays locked on her profile. "Yeah. You really can't."
He looks over her entire figure again while her eyes keep to the sky.
"Are you wearing a dress?"
She scoffs and he feels like a moron for even speaking.
"Yeah I am, seaweed brain." She stands abruptly and looks back at him over her shoulder. "I am a girl, in case you haven't noticed." She grabs the edges of her dress and pulls it swiftly over her head in a graceful motion, before walking into the curling water at the shoreline.
Oh, he's noticed alright. He's noticed a lot before. And right now he can't help but notice the slender tone of her body, starting at her legs and up. They'd gone swimming occasionally, but she rarely wore a bikini in front of him (let alone a dress—he's sure this is the first time that's ever happened). And this particular bikini, this tiny string thing she was in, made him want to thank every god he could name.
She shook her hair loose while facing the sea and he almost had to hold his jaw up. Perfect ringlets fell down her back, shining silver like her eyes as the moonlight defined every curve of her body. He thinks she has the same kind of glow the hunters have, if they all were clad in thong-esque bikini bottoms—he prays that Artemis forgives his thoughts.
Her back is still to him while he drinks in the slope from her waist to her hips, her long and lean legs stretching for miles, the small indents on her lower back that he could so easily press his thumbs into, how she filled out every inch of that tantalizingly tiny swimsuit...
"Are you coming?" She calls back to him.
Hell yes, he wanted to yell back. There was no way he could miss this. If he kept pouring over her frame, there's no telling what kind of impulsivity he would give in. He so desperately wants to scoop her up into his arms, have her wrap her legs snug against his waist and slide his hands up and down those curves...
"Percy?" She calls again, flicking her head over her shoulder.
"Um, uh, yeah," he stumbles out intelligently. Real smooth, Jackson. Why didn't he inherit his dad's charm with women? Or have the allure of an Aphrodite descendent?
He catches up to her and he's not sure if it's the water tickling his toes or standing right in front of her that jolts him out of his trance. He gets a devilish glint in his eyes and smiles down at her.
"You ever see the ocean underwater at night?"
"Not all of us have barnacle brains, you know," she replies teasingly.
"Well then. Let's change that." He doesn't hesitate to pull her by the hand out further before diving head first. He manipulates the water to form a bubble around them and concentrates on her being able to see clearly the way he does. He's not sure if it'll work, or if the air bubble even will, but he thinks it would be the coolest thing if he could do it.
"Wow," she mutters as he pulls her past a stretch of coral. "I didn't even know all of this was under here."
"I think it's part of the camp's magic, to be honest. No other part of the sound has reefs like this."
We can talk underwater, he thinks. Sweet.
He realizes he still is holding her hand and feels the tips of his ears redden, and promptly releases it.
"You'll love this," he says gliding down to the sandy floor. "Lay down here and look up."
She follows his instructions and audibly gasps. They gaze above as if looking through an aquarium glass, colorful fish swimming idly over them with a large moon beam striking the surface of the water.
"Some nights you can even see the constellations from down here."
"You mean to tell me," she says pointedly, "that you've been sneaking out to this beautiful underwater tropical paradise every summer and you never even thought to invite your best friend?"
"Nah. Didn't think Grover would wanna swim all the way here."
She punches his arm but then lightly rests her head against his shoulder.
"Don't get me wrong, Athena is clearly the best Olympian and her children are the most gifted demigods, especially when it comes to Poseidon—but I think I might actually be jealous of you and your powers right now."
He boastfully smirks down at her but quickly softens. "Oh yeah. Maybe I'll just lure Kronos down here and have a nice chat over the seashells and plankton instead of fighting him."
She giggles and a few bubbles of air float up to the surface above them. "Yeah, and I'll invite Hera to tea sometime."
He smiles easily back and throws an arm around her shoulder. Whoops, there goes their personal space again. What a shame.
"Girls that wear dresses love this stuff, you know. They would flip over the hero of Olympus bringing them down to a private oasis for a romantic evening under the sea and stars." She says in a weird voice, thick and guarded, almost teasing but almost not.
He scoffs in disbelief. "'Hero of Olympus.' Yeah, like they'll ever call me that. Like I'll ever be that."
She gives him another shove—lighter, gentler—and leans flushly into his arms. Totally normal best friend thing, he tells himself. Then he thinks. "You wore a dress tonight."
She tenses a little bit and then relaxes again. "Don't get used to it, doofus. What about it?"
"Well," he starts slowly, his heart picking up its pace, "You're a girl and you wore a dress and I brought you here and now we're here under all that stuff…" He trails off, not really sure how to continue. She turns towards him, but keeps her hands rested against one of his legs.
"Minus one of those things, yeah," she says in that weird voice again. He can't figure out what she means, her tone, her body language, her anything. He tilts his head in his confusion. "Romance," she drawls out like it's the most obvious thing in the world, shaking her head.
"Oh," he says surprised, still not sure what to say to those big grey eyes staring at him. His heart is galloping and he's so sure she can hear it, but her face gives nothing away. "Yeah, that."
And here they are again, him gazing over her in awe, trying to talk himself both in and out of closing the gap between them. He swears he sees her eyes dart down to his lips and he involuntarily licks his own. Gods, why couldn't he read her mind? He could tap into all of the hippocampi nearby, why not her?
This was it, he thought. There will never be a better time to kiss your best friend than when she's glowing silver with sea and stars floating above. He tenderly places his hand right above her elbow, pulling her closer. She looks a little startled but soft, and she leans in a little more and he's leaning and he's going to do it, he's finally going to do it—
And he turns his head at the last second, trying to smoothly (but of course he stumbles like an idiot) transition them into a hug instead. He pulls back quickly, feeling awkward and gangly. Her eyes flash to his for a second, half a second really, but he thinks he saw something in them.
"We should, um, probably get going," he says lamely. Stupidstupidstupid, he choruses in his head.
She looks back to him with that familiar steely and guarded gaze. What was she thinking?
"Yeah, probably." She sighs and stands, following his lead.
After they emerge, he dries them both off instantly and walks over to the blanket again, crossing his legs as he sits. He pats the ground beside her, but she stays in the tide.
"Oh, c'mon. Since when are you a fish out of water?"
He laughs and smiles while walking back toward her, wading in waves that lick above his ankles. She reaches an arm out and he takes her hand, unsure of what she's doing. Before he knows it, she's twisted his arm back and pushes him down in the water.
"You make it so easy sometimes," she laughs out.
"You tricked me!" He spouts back.
"You should know me better by now."
Rolling his eyes, he splashes a forceful wave toward her and she falls backward. "And you should know better than to attack on my turf."
"Even with water you can't beat me," she teases before springing back up. She moves fast, faster than he knew she could with water up to her chest, and jumps up on him to spin around to his back. She holds on with her arms linked tightly around his neck, pulling back with all her strength trying to take him down.
"You're gonna have to try harder than that," he says laughing. He takes off into deeper water, making sure to aim some splashes right at her. And from there it's an all-out battle, water flying everywhere and laughter until their stomachs hurt.
When they finally decide to call it a draw, they're sleepy and lethargic as they fall down on the blanket.
"Ya know, I think we have what it takes to be a very competitive team in a game of chicken," she says leaning against him once more as both their backs are flat against the earth.
"I think you're right," he laughs. He tilts on his side and faces her, restraining his hand from tucking back one of her frizzy, damp curls. He admires her for the millionth time, from the slope of her nose over her bow string shaped lips to the freckles splotched across her stomach.
She points out a couple of the constellations he's fuzzy on and he listens intently to her as she tells him the stories behind them. She goes quiet and after a beat or two passes, he looks over to see her eyes closed, features serine.
"C'mon, Annabeth. Let's get you to bed."
She rubs her eyes and grumbles as she stands up, slipping her dress back on over her head. He rolls up the blanket and they start back up the small hill to their respective cabins. They stay quiet, not wanting to be caught on their secret sneak off. The Aphrodite campers would have a field day with those rumors.
When they reach the door to her cabin, she looks back and throws herself into his arms.
"Thank you," she murmurs into his chest, "I really needed this break."
"Me too," he mutters back before she lets go.
She walks up to the door, and then takes one long look back at him.
"She'll love it," she says quietly in that same weird tone from earlier. "The girl you take down there for the romance or whatever someday, she'll love it."
He opens his mouth to say a million different things. I'm never gonna take another girl there. I chickened out earlier, you know? You're so beautiful. Luke is stupid, love me instead. His mouth just keeps hanging open, and he thinks he probably looks like an idiot. He sighs and looks down, shifting on his feet.
"Goodnight, Percy," she says finally. He looks back up to her and that same look in her eyes from earlier, that same look he couldn't figure out right after he almost kissed her.
"G'night," he says simply and then she closes the door.
He walks back to his cabin from there, rubbing his hand on the nape of his neck and kicking a rock in frustration. Why did he always do this?
We're friends, he reminds himself. We're best friends. We're in a war. He turns sixteen in a few weeks. There's no time for him to fuck up things with her, not right now; he needs her.
Besides, she has this...thing with Luke, he grumbles internally. He keeps repeating this familiar list to himself, over and over, until he feels dizzy.
He finally falls backwards into his bed and roughs up his hair, groaning loudly. He repeats everything over and over, running it like a film on a projector in his mind.
He sits up abruptly. She was sad. Hell, she looked disappointed. In that split second after he stopped, her eyes…
And then he groans even louder.
She runs into him on her morning run on the beach. Ever since their secret rendezvous under water, she kept coming back to the shore. She'd stare out and replay that night over and over again, and even snuck out past curfew again a few times. Despite how her heart hurt after the last time, she wanted to redo that whole encounter, have that kind of intimate time together again.
He turned 16 in less than two weeks, and she can't even remember the last time they had a moment together. She tried to sit by him during meals, but he missed out on most these days. Chiron began having private meetings within him, so she couldn't even enjoy his presence across the table in the Big House.
It had been hard, but she understood his distance. He had been pensive, something she never had seen in him, and overall more sharp around the edges. He booked his 'cabin' for lone training in the arena from dawn till dusk and no one wanted to argue with him over it (although Clarisse had complained a few times). Most cabins were busy prepping with their own specialized skills they could offer, Hephaestus kids pumping out armor and explosives more efficiently than any factory could and Apollo's cabin had taken up shooting anything within range, even sending arrows through the apples on the mess hall tables. She had been busy helping her own cabin draw up schematics to be built and various strategies for potential battles. When she caught a moment of alone time, she felt self-induced pressure to figure out every last bit of Daedalus' laptop.
In her distracting thoughts, she slammed fully into him as the sunrise bled over the sound. He looked up, having that same dazed look glazing his eyes, like he was lost in thought as well.
"Hey," she breathes out in a pant, checking her pulse as they stood still.
"Hi," he replied with a curt smile, like he was trying to piece himself together in front of her.
"How've you been?" She asked and internally cursed herself. What a ridiculously stupid question during times like these.
He raised an eyebrow and his lips twitch up, sarcasm etched across his face. "Who, me? I've been spectacular. Thriving, really. And you?"
A small smile sneaks across her face without her permission. "The same. Life couldn't possibly get better."
His face falls for a second, but he forces another smile. The corners of his eyes don't crinkle and her stomach twists in response.
"You better knock on wood, Wise Girl," he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "Athena wouldn't be happy to hear you tempting fate like that."
She rolls her eyes instinctively, involuntarily. "Yeah, well, the fates and I haven't exactly been besties lately. Or in the past, for that matter."
He nods understandably with a small chuckle. "Now that we have in common."
A beat passes between them, and for the first time since they were 11, she felt uncomfortable sharing silence with him.
"Why are you running? You don't run," she blurts stupidly after she can't take it anymore.
To her surprise, he cracks a genuine grin. "You think you've got me all figured out, don't you owl eyes?"
She smiles in response, but before she can say anything, he slides his headphones back in and heads the opposite direction, further along the shoreline. She watches his figure retreat and her heart aches, missing him already.
"Hey," he calls back suddenly, turning to face her again, "meet to spar at noon, yeah?"
"Better take some advil in advance, then!" She yells back at him, and she swears she heard an echoing laugh from his distant frame.
She finishes her run feeling a little lighter with every step, and tries to keep her anticipation of their match to a minimum. She figured he would have to bail or something and tried to contain her excitement in fear of being let down. Nico kept hiding in the shadows and stealing him away, probably consulting with some sort of plan; she knew it was a matter of time before the two of them ran off for a last minute mission.
She shows up already prepped, lightweight armor tightly cinching her waist. When she enters under the eastern arch of the arena, she instantly locks on his shirtless figure, drenched in sweat and slightly pink from a spreading sunburn. She wonders if he had come straight here after his run that morning.
He slashed open the last dummy in the circle and senses her presence, pulling his shirt over his head quickly and doesn't make eye contact as he moves to tie on his own armor that was strewn carelessly off to the side.
"Surprised you could make it," she says honestly, unsheathing her knife and driving it deep into one of the wrecked dummies he had been training with.
"Honestly, me too," he says a little breathlessly. Once his armor is snug against his chest, he draws riptide across his center.
"Last chance to back out with dignity," she sneers at him and she takes a stance.
"Ha ha," he says stonely. He doesn't even twitch up his lips into a smirk, but his eyes scan her up and down. And not the kind of scan she sometimes thinks she catches him doing, usually on days when her hair is down and he's making her laugh and the monsters are already in their rearview. He scans her in a completely new way, one more akin to what he usually saves for his toughest fights; quickly and tactfully. Her face solidifies as she stares back, all of a sudden very aware that they are not sparring for fun this time.
She blocks his first blow, but at the very last second. He was quicker than she remembered. Steeling her stance, she tries to strike him in the side of his rib cage, but before she can even blink he swirls his sword under her wrist and disarms her, then taking her arm in his hand and twists it behind her head. She gasps and pants, in absolute shock at his prowess.
She thinks she hears him chuckle a little, and a warmth spreads internally, stemming from her heart. At first it feels bubbly and lightens her, but as it creeps up her neck, she feels fiery and shoves him off of her.
"Again," she almost growls. He assumes a starting stance again, his face unreadable.
Her win ratio against him continues to be abysmal, and her frustration peaks. She gets overconfident every time her knife makes contact against him, but then he makes her knife fly out of her hand in seconds and she wonders if he's going easy on her and she feels like she's going to break out in hives if she doesn't make him fall on his ass at least once. At one point he turns his head away and waves at a few Aphrodite girls that had stopped to whistle at him, and she imagines popping his head off like a bottle cap.
"I'm going to end you," she snarls out beneath her breath but he somehow hears it, and for a second she sees that easy going look of the 11-year-old boy that she had to travel to Hades and back with flash across his face. She lunges forward and he twists her knife from her hand yet again. This time she continues her attack and tries to tackle him head on, but he counters his weight against hers and she winds up beneath him, pinned to the gravel floor of the arena.
They're panting hard when he starts to laugh. Laughter that she hasn't heard in weeks, maybe even months. Boundless and gut tightening laughs that make him sound like a little kid, and at first the heat rises to her face again but then she can't help it, he's contagious. They're so loud it must echo all the way back to the big house, and he rests his sweaty forehead against her shoulder.
When they finally quiet down a little bit, he pulls back up and looks at her. His eyes are unreadable, but he looks over every inch of her face intensely. She is about to start fighting him, tell him off and say that she's just been letting him win, but then he tucks a loose curl behind her ear and her blood runs cold.
She meets his gaze and feels tingly, thinking that her whole body must've gone numb. She realizes the exact position they're in, a horizontal mess of tangled limbs. He is pressing tightly against her whole body, one leg wrapped over hers to hold it down and the other pressing flush against her center. One of his hands is slinked around both her wrists and pinning them above her head, while the other is placed directly next to her head, propping himself up. His abdomen is pushed closely against hers, both their shirts riding up slightly at the edge of their stomachs so that their skin is skating against one another. She's not entirely sure where she ends and he begins.
The hand holding her wrists had moved the curl, and his fingers traced down her jawline as he slowly—tantalizingly—pulls it back. Her throat feels tight and she's not even sure if she could grunt out a comprehensible noise, so she uses her eyes to talk to him, to plead and beg and scream at him to read her mind.
He looks back gently, clearly unsure of himself. She swears hours are passing, that they are laying there as the sun rises and sets a hundred times behind them.
She takes one long last leer at his lips and darts her vision up to his eyes, sealing the moment in her mind before it's inevitable end.
He licks his lips as his eyes move opposite hers, ending on her lips and she sighs dejectedly. She starts to try and sit up, moving an elbow underneath her arm for support and shock crosses across his face for a split second as he shifts to accommodate her moving.
"Fuck it," he mutters just below his breath, and she blinks in confusion before he literally crashes against her.
His lips are salty like the sea and it makes her smile into the kiss. His hand cups her cheek gently even though his kiss is anything but, it's urgent and rushed and even a little forceful. His other hand holds her tightly like he can't even imagine letting her go.
Her hands play with the edge of his shirt before playfully sneaking under it and tracing over the very same abs that she's been dreaming about. She's melting, never before has her brain been so silent, all she knows is his warmth and his arms and his lips, dear gods his lips…
He breaks away much too soon for her liking, but suddenly she's aware of how neither of them have had time to breathe. He rests his forehead against hers before slipping an arm behind her back and sitting them both up. They both stare at each other with stupidly wide grins.
"Hi," he says, still a little out of breath, his familiar silly smirk sliding up his face.
She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close.
"Hi yourself," she mumbles with her own smirk, pressing her lips against his again. When she pulls back, they both share the same ridiculously wide, toothy grin.
"Now get up so I can get back to kicking your ass."
A/N: thank you for reading! let me know your thoughts in a review :)