ANNABETH
Annabeth's been having an interesting October.
It turns out that she's pretty good at Spanish – taking three years of French in high school helped out more than she expected – and her presentation came back with an A. She's acing papers and kicking ass on tests, and it's like she's gliding through life for the first time. And, somehow, having Percy around makes it easier instead of harder. He comes over when she asks and she goes over when he asks, and they're not together all the time but they're together enough.
They've been dating for a while and it's nice – really nice – but every time she's with him, Annabeth feels like there needs to be more. And she doesn't know how to ask about it.
"Just tell him you're his girlfriend and he's your boyfriend," Piper says with a well placed glare one day toward the end of October. The two of them had been discussing the pros and cons of the Harry Potter movie adaptations until Annabeth got a text from Percy and Piper started making fun of Annabeth. But playfully. "Jesus, it's like the two of you are emotionally incapable of commitment."
"You have got to be kidding me," says Annabeth. "Seriously. You have to be kidding right now or you're the dumbest person ever."
"I'm not kidding," says Piper, now tossing her textbook in the air. "You guys need to just make it official."
Annabeth starts laughing and, even when Piper asks her "what the fuck's so funny, blondie?!" she doesn't respond. After nearly two months of this run around, Reyna and Piper are still playing the "we're just fuck buddies" bullshit and Annabeth is getting tired of it. In class, she would hear an undertone of "but I want more" from every single thing Reyna said about Piper, and from Piper she heard just the endless whining.
"Why are you laughing?!" Piper exclaims for the third time. "Ugh. You're dumb. Go boil your head or something, weirdo."
Annabeth waves her hand in front of her face, trying to calm herself down from the laughter. "I'm sorry," she gasps, "but seriously, how can you be telling me to commit?"
"Because Reyna and I are not in the running for a romantic relationship."
"You just keep telling yourself that, slugger," says Annabeth. "Besides, Percy and I have some…some stuff to work through before we get to the relationship stage."
The anger fades from Piper's face as she studies Annabeth's. "You don't have to tell him about what happened with Luke," she says to Annabeth. "I mean, you can just tell him you had a shitty first relationship."
Annabeth shakes her head. "No, that's not it. I need to be able to be upfront with anyone I'm this close to. I mean, you and Reyna are the only two who know about what happened when I was younger. I feel like if I'm dating anyone, they need to know. And if I'm actually planning on taking this to a more serious level, I definitely want him to know."
"Why though?" Piper asks, and the moment of innocence that flashes over her eyes lets Annabeth know that maybe, maybe, Piper's hardest moment has been with dealing with her father, and that she's never hated herself fundamentally like Annabeth has. Within October Piper's opened up a bit about her dad, how he wasn't present for a lot of her life, how she was in the care of assistants for much of her life. She didn't experience much of the love of a parent, which was something Annabeth could relate to, and the absent mom thing is pretty much identical. Annabeth recalls one particular conversation in which Piper yelled for about twenty minutes about how her father gets to avoid some of the stupid racism she gets, just because he's famous.
However, Piper doesn't read the tabloids that appear in Annabeth's house. She doesn't just pick up the magazines that Annabeth's step mom Christine picks up. Tristan McLean is pretty frequent in the viewer comments, and some of them are pretty horrible.
Bringing herself back to reality, Annabeth's eyes drift closed and, as she's been allowing herself lately, she lets herself see the past as it flits across her eyelids. Her eyes still shut, she answers Piper. "What happened with Luke and Thalia is – it's a big part of me," she answers, "and I can't make it go away. Nothing will ever make me be the same as who I was before I met them, before he – he killed those people, and, I don't know," she shrugs, letting her sentence pause for a moment and go where it will. "I feel like I need to tell the people in my world to let them know what they're getting into. To let them know that I'm not an easy person to get along with."
She opens her eyes and looks at Piper, who is giving her the most intense "are you fucking shitting me" look Annabeth Chase has ever seen in her life.
"Fuck no," says Piper. "Okay, look, so you're fucked up. Somebody was a douche to you and manipulated you and hurt you in the past and then turned into fucking Jafar out of nowhere. That's not your fault, and you don't need to take responsibility for that shitbag, okay? It's not that you're not easy to get along with. It's that someone fucked with your fucking ability to trust people because that someone needed to be punched in the nads daily."
Annabeth just stares at her.
"Do you understand?" Piper exclaims.
Annabeth's only response in to squeak like a terrified mouse and nod.
"The only reason you should tell him is because, if he's not prepared to deal with you needing help and shit, he needs to go fuck himself with a rake."
"You're getting weirdly scary about all of this," Annabeth says, and she feels that horrible, weird, annoying desire to laugh again that always pops up in the most unfortunate of situations.
"I don't want anyone being a douche to my roommate," says Piper, and she's suddenly calm again, going back to whatever she was reading or working on before the Harry Potter conversation, and Annabeth, still isn't sure what happened.
Until she finds herself in Percy's dorm room, with his roommate out and she's underneath him, feeling ever line against him, one of his thighs between her legs and she's nearly blinded from every sensation, she begins to get a little bit why Piper doesn't want anything real with Reyna. She doesn't want anyone to bail on her like her dad did.
Because it's weird to think about your roommate when you're about to get your swerve on with your whatever-they-are, Annabeth shifts her attention to her and Percy. If they're going to have any sort of real relationship, they're going to need to talk things through, and it's going to be scary.
Annabeth hates scary. Annabeth doesn't do scary, mostly because the few things that scare here – because she does not scare easily – knock her off her ass and into terror.
So as she and Percy grab onto each other, as she pulls up his shirt to kiss against his strong stomach and down against the hem of his jeans, as he whines and gasps as she licks down his hard length, as he pulls her up to kiss her firmly, as he makes sure he doesn't come before she does, Annabeth thinks, in the back of her mind, that she knows she will have to have the conversation eventually. Even if it might be the hard thing to do, she's not letting him go easily. But this day she misses the opportunity as he kisses at her shoulder afterward and quizzes her with her flashcards in bed as he kisses along hr shoulders. It's a perfect afternoon – Annabeth's still too scared to bring it up.
So a few days pass, and the situation is familiar again. Telling Percy's on her mind again, and she's about to say something when he holds out something stupid and adorable and tells her, "look what I grabbed for you!"
He smuggled a piece of rosemary shortbread out of the dining hall for her. And he's smiling and perfect and god, this conversation would be hard.
The only time she's not thinking about this is as Percy's got her flat on her back on his bed, the sheets smelling faintly of the ocean spray, boyish body wash that smells and feels like Percy, as he licks against her hot flesh like he's born for it, as he makes sure she knows that she is the only thing that is on his mind. Percy's good at it, and he knows it, but he never lets himself get sloppy and never gives it half assed effort. It's fantastic. He moves and he licks and he brushes fingertips and light skin against her inner thighs until Annabeth's head is full of sensation to blindness.
She cries out his name, constantly, like it's a prayer she needs to repeat like a fucking hail Mary to get to where she's going, and when she comes, it's always better than the time before. She lies there, a serene smile on her face as Percy kisses her eyelids, her cheeks, her ears, her neck, until she's breathing steadily enough for him to kiss her on the mouth and not have her pass out.
"Are you okay?" he asks, and she can hear the slight laughter in his voice. "You were kind of, um…You were louder than usual today."
"You were better than usual today," says Annabeth against his lips, and she reaches between them to stroke up his dick. "Not that that means you aren't phenomenal on an average day, it's just that you were particularly impressive tonight."
Percy shudders slightly at her touch and his head drops to her shoulder. "Well, you're not so bad yourself," he says, but his voice is strained. Annabeth can't help her grin as she strokes him again, and the low, heavy, moan that Percy exhales is more than she can handle.
"Fuck this," she says, "no more talky," and she flips him over, fiddles for a condom in his desk, and rolls it on with her mouth. He rambles some incoherent, mindless words that flood through Annabeth like desire and she smiles up at his as she moves. "Ready?" she asks quietly.
He nods emphatically. "You really don't need to ask that," says Percy, but whatever he can say next is drowned out but Annabeth settling against him and beginning to move. There's something about the way he throws his head back, eyes closed, yet can still find the most sensitive spots at Annabeth's hips and stroke at them slowly enough to cause stars to form in the corners of Annabeth's vision. As she continues to move, she leans forward and kissing Percy. He moves one hand to thread his fingers through her hair, his second hand moving between them to find the sensitive bundle of nerves on Annabeth. He got the idea after the first few times, especially when Annabeth grabbed his hand the last time and pulled it between them the second time they had sex. He got the message quick, and makes his efforts today with a tentative stroke. Annabeth breaks away from his lips and gasps.
"Fuck," she says against his throat. "Oh, fuck, do that again."
Percy's fingers move as the rest of him does, and Annabeth's brain is overwhelmed as his hand and body work against her. Gently, Percy flips the two of them over, making eye contact with Annabeth to make sure it's okay, and, Annabeth nods. "Yes, yes, you can be on top, just get me off again," she moans, fingers digging into Percy's back as she throws her head back and moans. Percy's fingers work against her gently but just enough to keep her at the right pace. As she feels the wave about to crash over her, she gasps and it hits.
Percy thrusts into her through her orgasm and it's blindingly good and she can't feel her fingertips and oh, fuck, is this what it's supposed to feel like every single time? It's right every time and it stuns her every time that it feels right. Sometimes she decides to think of it as just being an adult, growing up, but most of the time she thinks it's more. That it's Percy and not Luke, that is fun and light and happy instead of darkly passionate and aggressive. It's better when there's an aspect of fun to it. And she finds herself smiling as the stars fly across her vision.
A few seconds later, Percy's thrusts get erratic and off tempo, and she can feel him come as he presses his lips to hers like she is the only air he can ask for. When the waves are over for both of them, he drops to his forearms, still hovering above her. Strangely, Annabeth feels the desire to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, and he giggles breathlessly.
"You are perfect," he says sincerely.
Her response is to giggle back at him. He kisses her again then rolls to the side, pulling her toward him. "Seriously, though," he says, pressing kisses against her neck and then at her checks. "You're…Wow."
"You make me feel wow," she says, and for a brief second she thinks it's the single stupidest thing anyone has ever said in the history in the world. She looks at him and realizes he's smiling brightly, like he's always wanted to hear it from her.
"Ditto," he says with a laugh.
There's a moment that passes between them, a look in his eye, and she knows immediately that they need to talk things out. Now. Before either of them gets the other in the middle of a situation they know they can't handle.
Annabeth's heart is half pounding out of her chest when the words rush out of her. "I think we need to talk to each other."
Percy gives her a look – god, she's an idiot sometimes. "Okay," he says. "Do you have an idea of what about? Or should we just go for it and see where it goes?"
Annabeth, for a split second, debates telling him she was kidding. But then it's not enough. She's got to do this now. They're in too deep for any other option. "I mean, before this goes any further. We should just – we should play a game called random questions."
Percy falls next to Annabeth on the mattress, gently brushing a bit of hair out of her eyes. "Okay. What's your favorite color?"
"Green," she says instantly, but it's strange, because usually she says blue. Only sometimes is it green, but apparently today is one of them. "What's your favorite memory from childhood?"
"My mom and me on Montauk," he says, his grin contagious. "We'd go every other year or so, and usually I was too young to remember, but it was great. Really great."
She's smiling through his next question. "Annabeth, what's your deepest, darkest secret?"
This happened far quicker than she expected. "If you get to ask me, I get to ask you," she says, her heart pounding so hard she can hear it. "Is that okay?"
He nods. "You go first," he says, and his grin is eager and so sweet that it sends a razorblade through Annabeth's heart. She knows he's going to give up on her, is going to run out of here afraid, when she tells him. Before, she was convinced she was strong enough to get past it. Now she isn't so sure. It's such a big thing, such a scary thing. She's a scary thing. Annabeth doesn't want to say a damned word.
But she does it anyway. Because he has to know what he'll say. "Remember that, um, boyfriend I told you I had? Back when I was younger?"
Percy nods. "The one who wasn't too cool?"
"Yes, him," she says, and her eyes drop as she stares into her hands where they play with strands of her hair. She can't be looking into those green eyes when she says this. "He was – three years older than me, and I was only fourteen and that's…It was old enough for him to be able to manipulate me, you know? And he went crazy, kind of. Do you know the Senator Carlisle murder?" She looks up, and Percy nods as he looks at her intently.
"Yes, I remember," he says quietly. He takes her hand, pulling it from where it's tugging at the sheets. "If you don't want to keep going, you don't have to."
"No, I think I have to. It was – L-Luke did it, actually. He k-killed them. Got involved with that weird anarchist cult, you know?" Of course he doesn't know. Why does she keep ending every sentence like that? Even talking is hard, just figuring out the words. Annabeth tears her eyes away and looks back at the floor. "And he wanted me and my friend Thalia to join them, to be part of it. We said no, ran away, but he kept following us. Kept finding us." She takes a deep breath and lets it hurt, expects the panic attack, but she just holds onto Percy's hand and feels his rough, calloused fingertips brush against her skin and the panic's not coming. It's not there. She looks up at him, and he's looking at her intently. "And then finally, when I went back to a place Thalia thought we would be safe, he broke in one night. Just staring at us. I told him I hated him, that we weren't family anymore. That I wanted him to die. And then the next morning…" She trails off. "There he was. Outside of our safe place. Dead." She sniffles. "He – he did it himself, they said. The police, I mean." Annabeth looks down at her hands again.
There's a quiet pause when Percy says, "it wasn't your fault," quietly. "I mean it. And I know I don't know anything about it or about him but I know it has nothing to do with you. He's not your fault."
Annabeth can't figure out what to do but shrug in silence for a few moments, silently trying to figure out what's going on in her head.
Percy's still looking at her when she looks up at him. "I'm so sorry that happened to you," he says simply, "is there anything you need? I mean, right now. But if I had a time machine I'd hug you then too."
Annabeth shakes her head, as if trying to clear it. "I mean, I need him to not be in my head anymore," she says, shrugging. "But I think I'm doing okay."
"Can I hug you?" he asks with that silly grin of his. Annabeth finds herself laughing.
"Yes," she says, and he pulls her into his arms, the angle kind of awkward but even so Annabeth's never felt better with another person around her. "I think you can always hug me."
Percy presses his forehead to Annabeth's and kisses it gently. She can't help but smile.
"My secret was that my real name is Perseus," he says quietly, "but that one's not real. And I think we're doing real here tonight."
Annabeth frowns. "If you don't want to get real, you don't have to. You can do unreal. Or something. You don't –"
"I want to," he says quietly. "I want to tell you. I mean, I've never told anyone else, I don't think. But – I think you need to know."
Annabeth nearly whispers, "okay."
"I went to a boarding school for a few years, different ones," says Percy, "I wasn't – I didn't do too great in school. I had a rough time and didn't do well on my own. My mom was married to this guy – named Gabe – and I hated him, but thought there was a reason he stayed around, you know? A reason he was always hanging around our apartment like he owned it." His eyes drift shut. "He did own it. The apartment, I mean. That's how we got it. It was in his name – my mom wanted me to have a safe place to come home to so badly that she lived with this creep when I was away. She married him, too."
"Percy, that's awful," Annabeth says after a pause, "that's – that's really, really terrible. I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that."
"He hit her, too," he says quietly, "that's the part I never told anyone about. The part I feel the worst about. Eventually I got old enough to get a real job, help out my mom, and we kicked him out. No idea where he went. I don't care at all. I just care that my mom was hurt for so long and I couldn't help her."
Annabeth, never having been in that situation, is completely speechless and staring at him. Normally her first response when she can't think of a response is to kiss Percy, but it's so many levels of not the right time. "It wasn't your fault," she blurts out. "That he was so awful. It's not your fault. I know you think it is, probably, but it's not your fault he hit your mom or was a horrible person. It's his fault. That Gabe guy's the evil one. You were just a kid."
Percy looks at her, searching her eyes for a few moments, and then, to Annabeth's surprise, his eyes start welling with tears.
"Oh, crap," he laughs, "I think I'm crying. I don't want to cry."
"I'm not going to judge you if you're crying," she says, "it's okay to cry, you know. Even when you're, you know, crying over something like deep emotional trauma."
He laughs again – it's a different one than she usually hears – and kisses her. "And, you know, for the record," he says quietly, "you're not the bad one either. It's Luke."
"I'm beginning to realize that," says Annabeth quietly, and the two of them cuddle in silence for a while, the words still hanging in the air.