Chapter Twelve
McDonald wrappers littered the coffee table with half-empty Styrofoam cups; Nico's strapped combat boots and Percy's sneakers were a hazard by the door, but the best was Nico leaning against Percy's chest, fiddling with his skull ring, turning it around and around. A perfect moment.
"Do you hate me," Percy asked with contrition, the question burning him for the past two hours.
"I blame my father. It's not the worst, though, I could've been banned all year long. At least I can be down there for a few months out of the year, but what's the point when you're up here? Maybe it's for the best. My father won't ask me to be his second hand now. I have more time to myself."
Percy scooted down, his mouth closer to his ear, gripping his inner thigh. "You can come to Camp Half-Blood. You have a cabin there, you'll have it all to yourself."
"I don't belong there. You know that."
"You've never tried, Nico."
He crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't see how they treat me. No one wants to be near the son of Hades. The Underworld was my home. Now no one wants me."
"I want you."
Nico quieted, spinning his skull ring faster. Then, "you want me. Good. Because I'm not going anywhere without you again."
Percy felt the frayed edge of the leg of his jeans. "How about New Rome? Your sister's there."
"I'll see my sister anytime I want. Shadow-travel, remember? No, I don't want to be there either."
"Fine." He caressed his thigh. "Then we'll get our own place. Where do you want to live?"
"Didn't you mention that you were going back to Camp Half-Blood?"
"Plans change. I don't want to go if you're not coming with me."
Nico chuckled a dark sound like the gallows. "Then what are we going to do?"
"I say we get our own place. We can stay right here in New York. I can work at the aquarium and you can work in a graveyard or something."
Nico shoved his foot with his own. "Funny, Percy." He was silent for a while. "I like the idea of staying here, but I'm not working in a graveyard."
"Then what?"
"Ah, maybe I'll become a mortician."
"Cheery," he deadpanned.
Nico leaned his back against Percy's shoulder, his breath smelling strongly of salty french fries. "Is this what you want? This?"
"Yes."
He smiled, but something was lost. Percy, having issues with his own parentage recognized it immediately.
"Try not to hate your dad too much. Gods don't think like us." That was what his mother told him once when he resented his own father. It made sense when she said it, but it sounded insane when Percy used those words. He supposed that he didn't believe them the way that she did. His mother probably hadn't always felt that way to the god that abandoned her. She likely said it over and over until she bought her own story. It was a gift of peace.
"Maybe they should," Nico muttered, placing the ring back on. It suited him.
Percy kissed him. "At least we have each other, angel."
"As long as I have you, soldato."
"You'll never not have me."
While Nico felt less kind to the Gods, it was Percy who realized that if it wasn't for the Gods, he wouldn't have Nico. It was the best gift death could have given.