Percy was dreaming again.
Things were different, this time. The floating teal flame was bigger, almost twice the size that he remembered. Had it been subtly growing over the past week, or had the change happened suddenly? Percy wasn't sure.
Whatever the reason, the fiery blaze was now almost as tall as his shoulders. Its licking tendrils wide enough around that he could have given it a bear hug with a bit of room to spare. Were it not for Percy's divine eyes, the thing would have been far too bright to observe safely. The space around the edges of the fire wasn't so much tinted with color as saturated with it, as if the green was feeding on the colorless air.
"Hello?"
Percy's voice called out without his input. The word did the opposite of echo - each syllable was sucked right from his lips the moment the sound was generated. There was no answer. He hadn't expected one, not really, and yet for some reason it still put the young god on edge.
Percy took some time to inspect his surroundings. The all-encompassing white void was still equally endless, but it was no longer motionless. The movement was something more than a change in color or brightness, a shift beyond his physical senses. It was more a deviation in momentum, in the phase of the space itself. It seemed more liquid than gas, now. Flowing, circular. It reminded him of the dais on Othrys, of a time when the sky bearer could see both everything and nothing all at once.
When Percy looked down, the floor beneath his traditional Greek sandals had changed as well. Before there had been no 'floor', just more nothing. Now it was like the son of Poseidon was standing on an impossibly thin yet flawlessly clear sheet of glass. Beneath it the void folded over itself again and again, a sea of cloud with a bottomless depth. The top-most waves crested less than a hair's width from the soles of his feet.
Most importantly, the circular teal string around Percy's form had expanded in circumference many times over. The sky bearer remembered that he couldn't reach out his arms without bumping into the vertical barrier on either side last time. Now, he realized that he could actually take a few steps in any direction with the string's increased length. Percy kept one palm on the smooth, invisible surface as he did a lap of the full available area. The ends of his green-blue chiton waved leisurely with the motion.
"Navigator of the void, huh?" Percy's internal musing refused to stay inside his head, the words pushing from his mouth into the open air. "Kinda boring." His inability to keep quiet was a bit strange, but this was a dream, after all. Thoughts and words weren't so different here.
On his second go around the circle, the sky bearer discovered that the entirety of the flame was now within reach. When Percy brought his hands close he could feel it thrumming under his skin. It made him want to jump a hundred feet in the air, crush boulders as easily as molding clay between his fingers. The energy was living, almost willful in a way Percy still couldn't quite grasp. It was that same sensation from his confrontation with Ares, that familiar feeling of otherworldly divine power that half-boggled his mind.
Was this his soul? Or perhaps, the fragment of Ouranos? Both?
That thought inspired something deeply protective in Percy's chest. Suddenly, seeing the burning fire outside his body generated a rush of extreme vulnerability, like the son of Poseidon had just found himself naked in public. The sky bearer did another spin in place to check his surroundings a second time, just in case. It was a good thing he did.
Percy was no longer alone.
At first the thing was nothing but a tiny black speck, far enough away that it was nothing more than a grain of dark sand against the void's infinite sea. Still, it was impossible to miss. The contrast was so stark that Percy's eyes couldn't tear themselves away. That sensation of unease, of wrongness multiplied. The young god took a step backward when the blip started to grow.
It started slow. First the speck stretched vertically, elongating and sharpening at the bottom. Then there were what might have been arms growing from either side, resolving and blurring into reality like someone was adjusting the dial on a radio. Next was a head, then the bottom protrusion split into legs. It was still no taller than his fingernail from tip to tip. The sky bearer had barely decided that it was a person before everything changed.
In a single instant, she was an inch from his face and all Percy knew was fear.
There was no form he could describe using mortal language, and yet Percy knew the figure was a female. She had no hair, no clothes, no face, no eyes and yet he knew she was watching him. Even the humanoid shape she took was not a reflection of reality, merely a familiar template that Percy's brain could somewhat comprehend to avoid shearing itself into pieces under the crushing weight of her presence. The edges of her form grew and expanded until the void was gone and there was nothing else but Her.
Percy was scared, more scared than he had ever been in his entire life.
She was beyond him, so far above Percy's station that he was completely and utterly inconsequential. Less than an ant, less than dust. Even perceiving Her sent spikes of horrible pain through the back of the man's mind as the very fundamental portions of his being revolted against what his optical nerves were attempting to convey. Still, that pain was nothing compared to the rush of understanding that would have had the sky bearer collapsing to his knees if his body was capable of movement.
This was not the face of life, of love, of anything remotely understandable. Percy stared into the void and the visage stared back. It was a name he had only heard once - She Who Dreams was no god, no titan, no mere primordial. No, what Percy had found was something so much worse.
Oblivion.
Greetings, little dream.
Her voice was not a voice, but the foundations of language rearranging inside Percy's mind. It was as if he was thinking the sounds himself and yet he knew, with unshakable certainty, that they were not his own. The whispers were gone, or perhaps simply layered, as if Her words were all they could speak. Or, rather, that they were all the voices had ever been able to convey. Her darkness surrounded him, swallowed him in an endless realm of cold and distant stars.
It has been many cycles since I last had a visitor. The young god could only be grateful that Her tone was kind. It was clear that, with a single thought, he would have been eradicated completely. Erased. Teal flame snuffed out like a blown candle. You are not supposed to be here, and yet here you are. How curious.
"I'm sorry."
Percy could barely get the apology out of his mouth. Her eyeless gaze flayed him open from the inside out, bearing every thought and whim and desire. Deceit would have been impossible. His teeth chattered madly.
You are forgiven. Percy swallowed, relieved beyond words. I know my presence is disconcerting, little dream, but do not despair. The darkness rotated, appraising. You may not be my grandson by birth, but I claim you nonetheless. For a single, terrifying moment Percy thought that She was going to touch him. Instead, one of Her tentacled not-fingers paused before dissipating back into the surrounding black.
"Okay." The sky bearer felt the need to answer, to do anything to stay in Her good graces. "Thank you." Every muscle in Percy's body, save for those in his face, remained locked in stasis. His eyes flickered in every direction, trying in vain to latch onto something concrete. The son of Poseidon found nothing of the sort.
I need no thanks. Her reply was amused, in the way that a galaxy's spiral could appear whimsical when viewed from the correct angle. I have dreamed of you many times, Perseus. Her use of his name inspired a deep seated dread. The nothingness around Her almost-face was whirling, howling, screaming.
Inside Percy's mind, pictures began to appear. Whether they were conjured or placed, he couldn't tell. There was a common figure among them, a boy with curly black hair and striking sea-green eyes. Sometimes he was older, with a scarred face and tortured eyes. Sometimes he was younger, with scuffed shoes and a bright smile. No matter the changes, Percy knew each was a slightly different version of himself.
In some, you end up dead. Percy saw a funeral. His mother watched a casket lower into the ground, soaked in cold rain. In most, you end up with the little architect. There were a hundred scenes of Percy with Annabeth. They were sitting on a couch, sharing a meal, raising a child, growing old on a porch swing. I've seen you with the huntress- He was kissing Artemis -the hearth- Hestia was holding his hand as they walked down a beach - and in some dreams, all of them and more at once. The next vision was a writhe of sweaty, panting flesh on a massive bed. Percy was at the center, a dozen hands and tongues pleasuring every inch of his body.
The sensations were so real, so vivid, and yet so fleeting that the sky bearer felt sick to his stomach. It was too much info for his brain, like a thousand more lifetimes were being shoved into his head all at once. The edges of his self distorted, bulged, cracked at the hastily repaired seams. Dimly, Percy remembered his conversation with Athena in the palace courtyard.
Was he about to die?
And yet, little dream. Just as Percy was tiptoeing on the edge of the end, it stopped and he was faced with only Her again. His mind held, if barely. Only in this dream do we meet in such a way. The sky bearer couldn't believe he was back in reality, still sane enough to think and feel. Is it the influence of the heart, I wonder? A single snapshot of Aphrodite's face came and went across Percy's perception.
"I don't know." The sky bearer gasped. Her gravity stole the words right from his throat. He almost watched the words spiral into the dark just an inch away.
Hmm. Her hum was contemplative, unhurried in a way only a being unshackled from time could possibly express. I like this dream, I have decided. Percy might have been waiting a thousand years for Her reply, or only a single second. But you are not ready, not yet, little dream.
The son of Poseidon dared to hope that the nickname was an affectionate one. If it wasn't, he was certainly doomed. The looming threat of non-existence abated a bit as Her massless form retreated, allowing the lungs in Percy's chest to start working again. The sky bearer was sweating, shaking so badly it was a miracle he was still standing.
We will meet again, when I dream it so. It was more than suggestion, more than a law. The words were truth in its purest form. When you wake, you will remember none of this. Percy didn't know how the memory would ever leave him, yet he believed Her. Now, little dream-
open
your
eyes.
Percy opened his eyes.
For a moment, he laid still and stared at the ceiling. The moving paint of Aphrodite's beach mural greeted his gaze, gentle waves crashing in a distant, pleasant white noise. Over the brushstroke sand a shining sun had risen, sending literally artistic beams of light across the white expanse. The young god knew that the position of the false star overhead was the same as the real thing above the manor roof. Given the angle, it was probably somewhere around eleven in the morning.
Had he been dreaming? Percy couldn't remember. His brain was foggy and his chest almost hollow, as if something had been shifted out of place without his consent. There was the ghost of a memory just out of reach, but with each breath it slipped further from his fingertips. After another silent minute he didn't know why it had been bothering him at all.
"Awake, my love?"
Every inch of the young god's skin was assaulted with pleasurable tingles as a puff of hot breath washed across one ear. Percy had never flipped over so fast in his life. His bare legs and boxer-clad hips completely tangled up in the sheets with the spin. He nearly choked himself with the loose collar of his tank-top.
When Percy finally flopped over, with only a bit more grace than a beached whale, the sky bearer found his amused fiancé lying less than six inches away. Aphrodite was close enough he could make out her individual eyelashes. She was a picture of perfection, beauty so staggering it hit like a punch to the sternum.
Aphrodite's smirk was strong enough to send any sane man running for the hills. Instead, Percy merely gaped at her.
When Aphrodite usually let her hair down it chose to flow in effortless yet impeccably maintained sheets to her waist. Now, the- his goddess had the most sexual style of bedhead Percy could possibly imagine. Russet-red and dark black tips waved around her regal face in scruffy curls that would have looked tangled on anyone else but with her just seemed delightfully appealing. Somehow, the lack of any visible makeup was enticing all on its own. Combined with the dash of pink glitter across her cheekbones and the hypnotizing swirl of her irises, it made sense that the only thing that could wrench Percy's gaze away from Aphrodite was more Aphrodite.
The sky bearer dimly remembered his goddess changing into a sheer white sleeping shift the previous night. What Percy had not remembered, somehow, was how absolutely stunning it made her look. The shafts of sun across the painted beach above couldn't even come close to comparing to the way those same warm rays cast across Aphrodite's heavenly form. The contrast of pure white to sinful tan skin and seductive lips held the sky bearer in a chokehold. The fact that she was even real boggled Percy's mind.
If there was a single piece of clothing that could have seemed more promiscuous than nudity, the love deity had certainly found it. The silky material barely hung past her hips, loose enough to fall off either shoulder with the slightest of shrugs. The son of Poseidon could see great expanses of bare skin, each smoother than he even thought possible. Calves, thighs, shoulders, neck - every inch promised a meal of the decidedly . . . non-edible variety.
She was somehow soft yet fit, proportional yet curvy, divine femininity in its purest form. The term 'birthing hips' was so completely inadequate to describe the way the love deity's waist flared out from her abdomen, all of it bare for his eyes alone. Were she to lift her top leg from where it lay, Percy might have fainted right back into unconsciousness. The only evidence that there were any panties involved in this equation were the two hair-thin silk straps that wrapped around her curves like the bow on the world's juiciest present.
His goddess even managed to pull off the stereotypical 'paint me like one of your French girls' sideways lean with an elegance that would have made a nude model jealous. It was a miracle the young god even had the sense to close his mouth. He only realized why Aphrodite had chosen white instead of one of her normal colors when she shifted and he realized the thing was just ever so slightly see through.
Percy wanted to kiss her so badly it felt like he might die.
Aphrodite merely giggled, her pink aura reaching out to drag a few phantom fingers up the sides of his bare shoulders. Percy watched as one real, painted nail reached down to tug her neckline down even further, his eyes glued to the motion the entire time. The tantalizing gap of her cleavage seemed to never end. When the young god wrenched his gaze upward, his mouth was dry as the Sahara. His goddess didn't even try to hide the pleasure that his reaction had inspired, hypnotizing eyes flaring brightly.
"Good morning, Aphy." The words sounded distant to Percy even as they came out of his mouth. "I'm in your bed." I was all he could do to state the obvious. The man's first almost-subtle attempt to free his feet from the fabric tangle ended in miserable failure.
"En effet. Indeed." The way his goddess ran her tongue across her sharp smile made Percy want to lick it off of her. The fact that he might actually be able to do that now had his brain blue-screened for several seconds. Before the sky bearer could unfreeze his body and make good on that thought Aphrodite had already moved on.
"How do you feel, dearest?" The love deity's soft cheek pillowed a bit into the palm of her hand, head held aloft on one bent arm. Her chest did the same over the fabric of her sleeping dress and practically out onto the sheets. "You and my brother's drinks got well acquainted last night." Aphrodite seemed to be amused by the way he stiffened, the memories of last night crashing in all at once.
It was at least a decent distraction, if nothing else.
"Don't remind me." Percy eventually grumped, pushing a palm into one eye socked with a wince. That hadn't been his best string of decisions. "Mom's going to be pissed." It turns out that being future Percy was just as much fun as he had feared. After a moment the sky bearer shook his head to clear it, taking stock of himself as his curls brushed across his forehead. "A bit of a headache." He admitted slowly, fighting to keep his traitorous eyes above Aphrodite's chin. "Not too bad."
At least the man's lips felt like they were moving in time with his thoughts again. The memories of the previous evening were shockingly distinct, and the sensation of lag was unsettling even in hindsight. The fact that Hermes had been his most pleasant visitor was certainly a surprise. Thank the gods that his immortal biology left his mouth tasting like fresh mint instead of crusted, lukewarm alcohol.
"Ah. That's a bit unexpected." Aphrodite blinked, her smug aura pausing. "Our metabolism usually makes hangovers impossible. Étrange." She seemed to mull that over, peering at the son of Poseidon a bit more carefully before shrugging her free shoulder. "It was your first time, and you are new to your divinity." The love deity seemed content with that explanation, pursing her lips a bit in his direction. "My brother did pull his strongest vintage for the occasion, after all."
For some reason, Percy almost brought up the fact that it could be because of a dream. The words paused halfway out his mouth before he slowly closed it. On second thought, the young god had realized that reasoning was silly because he hadn't dreamed at all. Why had he been about to suggest it?
There was nothing wrong.
"Penny for your thoughts, my silver fox?"
Percy's entire world shifted, both literally and hyperbolically, as a pair of smooth, tan thighs crested over the rise of his abdomen. The sky bearer was so hypnotized that he couldn't react. Before Percy's brain had come to terms with the pressure, Aphrodite's legs squeezed his sides and flipped him effortlessly over onto his back.
Like a ballerina mixed with a bull rider, his goddess went upwards with the motion. Dark hair cascaded along the path of her body like a dash of russet paint, flowing and textured to please the eye. Aphrodite settled quickly, now sitting upright and straddling Percy's muscular abdomen. Her hands ended up flat on either side of his sternum, their lips separated by less than a foot of space.
The love deity's entire torso stretched out lithely, his goddess' generous . . . assets hanging just above the silk of Percy's sleeping shirt. There was no fabric in the world capable of hiding the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. Not that she needed one, with the way her entire form seemed to defy gravity.
Percy remembered likening their relationship to crossing numerous tiny lines in the sand, most of them to do with physicality and intimacy. Well, that metaphor had been crushed up, lit on fire more than once, and then tossed out the window for good measure. This kiss had shattered them all, blown the doors wide open. Aphrodite had stormed in, an army of one, only to find the king of the castle already kneeling.
If Percy could admit that he was in love, what else could hold him back? If she was his and he were hers, then there was nothing more to say. Nothing more to pretend. There were no lines in the sand now, save perhaps for the big one that involved both of them having no clothes and acting more as one being than two. Even that didn't seem too far away.
Instead, Percy found himself craving the contact. The goddess was warm and soft and real in a way that genuinely had the man questioning how badly touch starved the last six years had made him. If that gnawing need to grab her and pin her to the sheets was any indication, the answer was probably 'very'.
When Aphrodite completed her little trick, her hair ended up curtaining on all sides of Percy's head. The effect was like a real-life vignette, the darker black tips drawing the eyes inward and fading to a deep glowing red as they framed her perfect features. It meant that the love deity's face and slender neck were all the young god could see, even as the sensation of those silken strands across the hollow of his throat and bare shoulders made him want to close his eyes and bask in it.
The mask was gone - Aphrodite was smiling that smile that just killed him on the inside every single time. Percy didn't think he had ever seen his goddess so happy. He honestly didn't know she could be so happy. In the little world her hair had created just for them, Aphrodite was simply radiant.
For not the first time, Percy's body forgot how to breathe.
"You better speak quickly, my love." The son of Poseidon hadn't heard anyone ever purr out words like Aphrodite managed to. He felt it through the grip of her inner thighs on his sides, a vibration that wormed its way down to his very bones. "I have been waiting six years to taste you, Percy."
Hades' voice flashed across the sky bearer's memory. With the borderline religious fervor in his goddess' eyes, Percy could certainly believe she had been moving towards this moment for over half a decade. Her irises were aglow, awash with the joy of a plan perfectly executed, a victory finally secured. It made the young god feel both warm and fuzzy and more than a bit intimidated.
"Am I distracting you, dearest?" They both knew the question was hypothetical. Aphrodite's lips had morphed into a weapons-grade pout. "My deepest apologies." The tease shot straight through Percy's brain and down to the junction of their hips. The curves of his goddess' entire lower body were forcibly pressing downward in what might have been the most distracting sensation of all time, no movement even required. "Count yourself lucky that I will wait even one more minute." It was clear that Aphrodite was anything but a house-cat. No, she was a seductive panther and Percy was most certainly her prey. Her pout turned to a dangerous smile. "Tic-tac, mon idée fixe."
"I-" Percy wasn't sure his brain was even capable of forming real sentences anymore. The reason was probably because all of the blood required was certainly not near his skull at the moment. "I have questions-" a quick twitch of Aphrodite's hips had Percy's breath hitching once, then twice. "-about the party." The young god's heart was drumming a rhythm of a thousand beats per minute, one that had his face flushed and his fingers tingling.
In that breathless space between words, Percy had barely caught his mouth from making a critical mistake. He had almost asked, mortified, how the goddess didn't feel the evidence of his arousal hardening into her crotch beneath his boxers. With the way Aphrodite's grin turned feral, he realized she most definitely had. And she liked it.
It seemed to Percy that she took the existence of that last line in the sand very personally.
"Questions?" The goddess seemed to contemplate the word, but the son of Poseidon could see that the thoughts behind her eyes were of a completely different sort. "Of course. Ask away." Her tone could be called nothing but decidedly indecent. Her smile never wavered.
Percy knew that his goddess had been holding herself back for his sake for the past week. What he had not realized was how much control she had been showcasing. Even now, this new level of contact was still several degrees less dangerous than the sky bearer knew it could have been. Either way, it was clear that the dynamic between the two immortals had shifted drastically in a not so unpleasant direction. It didn't take long for Percy to ferret out the difference.
Aphrodite was done hiding, the young god discovered. The love deity wanted him, and wanted him to know it unequivocally. She desired him so badly Percy could feel her aura on his lips with every breath. The sensation almost broke him.
The sky bearer reflexively held his next inhale when Aphrodite started to shift again in a sort of circular grind of their pelvises that sent lava straight up his spinal column. She stopped the moment his chest ceased its movement.
Percy hadn't been able to stop his hands from flying to his goddess' slim waist, the act both a plea to stop and begging her to continue. The silk of her sleeping shift was sheer beneath his fingertips. The garment was so thin he wasn't sure if the feeling of skin on skin was real or his imagination. The young god released the breath, but then lost his next a second later when she rolled her hips again. When Aphrodite's smile brightened Percy realized she was teasing him with every inhale.
That wasn't fair. She was already doing that simply by existing.
The constant pressure, warmth, and almost movement was a greater form of cruelty. The sky bearer's pair of loose boxers had never felt so tight, so horribly restrictive. Percy wanted to taste her. He wanted her to taste him. There was a roaring under his skin, a fire born of more than just the power of Ouranos. It commanded that he flip the goddess over and savor all the little sounds she would make when he dragged his fingers down her abdomen and between her thighs and found her slick and wanting-
Stop it! Control yourself.
Percy almost reached up and slapped himself across the face. There was moving fast, and then there was doing whatever in gods' name that had been. Aphrodite's presence was thick in his lungs, each inhale scattering his thoughts with the world's most powerful aphrodisiac. The sensation of ghostly fingers manifesting on every inch of skin had begun again. The worst part is that the love deity probably wasn't even doing half of it on purpose.
This wasn't the first time he had felt such sensations, but it wasn't as if knowing what was happening made the young god any more prepared the next time Aphrodite swirled her body. The peak of her core swiped right across a certain ridge beneath his boxes in a way that had the edges of Percy's vision blurring. She was both playing him like a fiddle and dancing him like a stripper pole, luxuriating in the pressure between them. The sky bearer was completely on the back foot, body and brain bombarded by sensations that he had only daydreamed of. Repeatedly.
Aphrodite's expression was so nonchalant, like she was merely out for a stroll instead of completely taking advantage of their positioning. His goddess had Percy in the palm of her hand, and they both knew it. The love deity was providing a masterclass lecture in sexual persuasion. The sheer friction, even with two layers of fabric in the way, was enough to drive a man insane.
Percy wasn't sure how he would have felt if Aphrodite wasn't so obviously, if not quite equally, affected.
Clearly, being in control didn't make his goddess immune. Behind her calm façade the love deity's face was also flushed, enough for Percy to get a peek at a few sparkling pink stars on her skin. Her body was practically radiating with the same heat rushing in his veins. Was the grinding really for his benefit, or for hers? Percy found he didn't know the answer.
Aphrodite's smile dropped on one particularly forceful motion, the goddess biting her bottom lip hard enough to turn the flesh a pale rose. He almost whimpered when she did it again, and again once more. Every time she hit that spot just right Percy watched the hair on her arms stand straight up and goosebumps ripple across her exposed skin. The urge to simply forget all about the questions and forcibly reacquaint himself with his goddess' lips and body was fierce, but the sky bearer had become nothing if not adept at curbing those sorts of impulses.
Besides, they could kiss all they wanted after he got some answers. Percy needed them, now more than ever. It would be so easy to just give in. Too easy. But the sky bearer knew he had been caught off guard too many times last night. No more being on the backfoot.
Don't be a doormat.
"Aphy? His goddess hummed, the sound low and deep and wholly distracted. "Who is Michael?" The sky bearer felt both victorious and disappointed when that first question stalled Aphrodite's slow and overt seduction. "Why did he leave camp?" That didn't mean he liked the way her smile cracked before smoothing over.
"No wasting time, then." His goddess answering huff was anything but amused. The sound was less one of disappointment and more one of a deep resignation. Percy winced, but still nodded in response.
The sky bearer took the chance to run his fingers slowly up his goddess' silk-covered curves, hoping the motion of his hands was some sort of soothing. It was also a bit of a guilty pleasure, but the action seemed to work when Aphrodite let out a shaky breath as he traced over the dip beneath her ribcage. Percy could see her choosing her words, and the warm contact between them suddenly shifted from flirtation to something more comforting. The love deity's painted fingernails, today a light periwinkle, fisted the fabric of Percy's shirt as she visibly worked up her courage.
"Michael is my son. But that's not the most important part. At least not to him, it seems." His goddess closed her eyes for a moment. The action reminded Percy of Hermes the night before, of how he seemed to age impossibly between blinks. When Aphrodite opened them again, something inside her irises had shifted. "What do you know of the Romans, Percy? Les anciens Italiens."
What a strange question. The answer that came to mind was 'not much'. Were it not for it being explicitly mentioned by Aphrodite's children, Percy would have never even suspected that the ancient civilization was relevant. His brain was hard wired for Greek after all, and for obvious reasons the young god didn't really remember any history lessons from school. He only knew the obvious - the names of basically every emperor throughout the ages, a timeline of the most important places and events, and a pretty accurate geographical map of the empire during its highest peaks.
Wait a minute.
"I see you are starting to understand." Aphrodite hummed, watching as Percy's eyes flicked between her own in confusion.
"How do I know this stuff?" The young god felt like he was cracking open a safe of buried knowledge just waiting in his head, another Pandora's box provided by his ascension. "How do you know this stuff?" That was the real question.
These weren't new memories, exactly. The smell of the air outside Naples or the feel of the beach at the Gulf of Orosei felt just as real as the rest of his borrowed history. There were shadowy, indistinct figures speaking a foreign, dead language that somehow still translated to general feelings and impressions through Aphrodite's translations. Places he had walked but not walked, things he had seen but not seen.
What did it all mean? It was like Percy was tilting the memories up to the light and finally realizing that they shined a bit differently than he thought. The sky bearer had just . . . never noticed, because there was never any reason to inspect more than surface-deep. Why bother auditing a millennia's worth of memories for every slight detail? It was obvious that Percy's short, half-mortal past wasn't the true source. Each fact and image was dripping with pink, Aphrodite's voice stronger than usual.
The love deity met Percy's question with one of her own. "Do you recall my full name?" His goddess had settled back a little bit, tracing the dip between the sky bearer's abdominal muscles with a few restless fingers. Her weight on his hips wasn't exactly innocent, but it was comfortable enough. The curtains of hair keeping their gazes locked remained in place despite the movement.
Aphrodite was now pressing not just her thighs, but the entirety of her calves and the tops of her feet against Percy's legs. It made him feel warm, like he was sitting in front of a soothing campfire. Apparently he wasn't the only one craving every inch of contact. His goddess' circular grind had become more of a slow, gentle wave of pressure that ran from the ends of her toes all the way up to their connected waists. The bubbling heat between them sat at a reduced, tolerable simmer.
"Aphrodite Venus." At first Percy didn't know why she asked. A second later it started to click. Venus. That second word, the Latin word, had simply felt so natural he hadn't even given it a second thought.
"Indeed. I was surprised when you spoke my brother's true name, but I suppose I shouldn't have been." Aphrodite nodded, and Percy dimly noticed that her dangling cloud earrings had been replaced by gold and diamond studs. "Ares Mars, you said. Vous aviez raison." At some point his goddess' other ear had gained a matching loop on the top curve, balancing out the jewelry on either side.
"What happened with him?" Percy couldn't help but blurt out. The view of pink sparkles on Aphrodite's cheeks was a powerful reminder of the trail of the stuff she had spawned the previous evening. "You, um-" The young god almost choked on his words. "You really liked what happened. I guess." That was certainly one way to put it. They were both equally red at that point, but neither immortal could break eye contact. "Why?"
By now Percy's fingers were unconsciously exploring the dangerous transition between his goddess' hips and her backside, which he was pretending that he wasn't enjoying to an unhealthy degree. She was just so smooth, so curved, so . . . perfect. If he went any further he might have found the place where Aphrodite's shift rode up to reveal bare leg, like a promised land of pleasure and also probably a nose-bleed.
Aphrodite coughed, slender neck almost the same color as her hair. "You happened, love." She giggled, the sound both embarrassed and completely unrepentant. "When you threatened him to defend my honor, it was simply too much for me to handle."
She raised one hand from Percy's torso to fan her face a bit, and for a moment he could have sworn the love deity's pupils were more heart shaped than round. His goddess pressed against him once more, a lazy circle of her lap that had the sky bearer gasping out loud. The young god's grasping fingers nearly tore her shift apart.
"I could feel your anger, your devotion, your . . . well. Calme-toi, femme." Aphrodite whispered the last part to herself. "Let's just say it has been a dry last six years and leave it there, hmm?" The pink misting from her pores flared momentarily, the sensation of warm breath washing across the sky bearer's entire body.
"Yeah, okay." Percy's face was so hot it was a wonder he hadn't burst into flames. "Um, back to the Romans I guess?" What a whiplash in topic that had been. Percy cursed his loose lips once again, trying not to let the radiating heat from his crotch overtake the rest of his brain. His goddess made it very difficult.
"Of course." Aphrodite almost seemed like she was tempted to linger on the previous train of thought, but thankfully decided to spare her blushing betrothed. "I know this might be strange to hear at first, but what I tell you is the truth. Je promets- I promise."
Percy could feel the authenticity of that statement in his chest, that same little lock from his domain clicking closed in his core. The man gave her a nod, trying to ignore the part of his being that was currently enthralled with the little dip just above his goddess' backbone. It was much more difficult than it should have been but anything was better than thinking about the fact that he was more erect than he had ever been in his entire life, memories be damned.
And that Aphrodite certainly could tell.
"It started, oh, two thousand years ago. Give or take." The beginnings of another story had his fiancé's tone turning musical, an invisible stanza pulling each syllable into an enthralling melody that sunk underneath Percy's skin. "At first, when a group of villagers in central Italy banded together to form a 'Roman Empire', us gods were not particularly impressed." Aphrodite's voice turned wistful, her eyes a bit out of focus. The accompanying memories washed across the sky bearer's vision, each relevant scene pulled from the back of his mind.
Without looking, one of the love deity's hands slowly reached back and nudged Percy's left wrist further towards her rear. The son of Poseidon froze as he found that his fingers ended up cupping smooth, warm flesh - at least what part of her he could reach. The sensation ran straight from the pads of his fingertips straight down to his straining arousal. The fact that he couldn't see the action due to the hair curtain made it feel somehow scandalous, like a secret shared.
Percy squeezed and Aphrodite trilled in approval, eyelids flickering. It was certainly a new experience to be both seduced and taught at the same time. No matter how much he might have wanted to, the sky bearer couldn't find it in himself to complain. Aphrodite continued smoothly after that, as if she didn't have her betrothed currently palming her right ass cheek.
"Olympus was caught very much off guard with how quickly things progressed. We were aveugle- blind, both with our own worries and with our ego." Percy could hear distant shouting, feel a great sense of overblown pride that he knew belonged to the old Aphrodite. "As the empire grew and it became clear their worship included warped reflections of our usual selves, the coming shift was already too close." There was the phantom of some growing discomfort, of a discordance between two harmonies of his goddess' whispered voice.
"Eventually, the pain became too great. Olympus had ground to a standstill, throwing everything we had built into jeopardy." That same pain was reflected in Aphrodite's tone. The sound of crashing waves from the ceiling mural was stormy, agitated. "It was clear that a divorce was needed, one between the Greek and Roman aspects of ourselves. La scission- The Split, it was called."
The term had weight, a heaviness that was evidence of the great nature of such a thing. Without the assistance of Aphrodite's memories Percy couldn't even imagine what it would have been like to come to such a horrible conclusion. A god's very being, cut into pieces? It sounded excruciating.
Above Percy, the love deity was wrapped up in her story. Her aura swirled across his skin as her music grew towards a crescendo, the feeling a trail of distant butterfly kisses. His right was tracing up his goddess' slim abdomen, savoring every inch. Percy's thumb ran over the smooth and pillowy bump of fat beneath her navel. It was incredibly attractive.
"Once it was done, there were two goddesses of love." Aphrodite seemed to drift almost into reality, her half-floating hair landing back around Percy's head with a soft thump. "There was Aphrodite, and there was Venus. Two sides of the same coin, different and yet the same. Deux en un." Percy could feel the goddess' shiver as he brushed a gentle circle around her stomach, following the dips of her abdominals.
"What happened?" He prodded, his voice low and a bit husky. The son of Poseidon had a pretty good guess - there weren't many explanations for why Aphrodite would now have both names. The physical contact between them was almost amplifying the feeling of closeness. Each swipe of his fingers provided a sort of direct empathy that only heightened the experience.
"At the start of the war, there was a city near what the mortals call San Francisco." Percy's hands froze with dread. "New Rome." Aphrodite closed her eyes, her mouth twisting in a pained fashion. "The children of Venus, and the other Roman aspects, lived and thrived there. Dieux, Percy. You would have loved it." There was an aching, regretful sincerity to her tone.
"That was where the war started." It was the same place where Atlas had begun his march. Percy could feel his fingers trembling. He didn't need to be debriefed on that portion of the conflict. He had seen it, lived it. He had been there. "Are you saying . . .?" The sky bearer couldn't get the words out.
"At first, we were confident that Camp Jupiter could protect the city." Aphrodite still hadn't opened her eyelids. Her hands on his chest were deathly still. "Our true seat of power is here, on Olympus. Were it destroyed, neither camp would survive. It was the tactical choice." It sounded like the goddess was quoting Athena for a moment. "With their overconfidence, we believed that the Titans would find no reason to stop and siege the city when they believed Olympus was already in the grasp. We were right." A single tear dripped down the goddess' cheek. "For a time."
"You don't have to talk about it." Percy tried to interrupt around the lump in his throat. The young god felt a powerful cocktail of shame and self-disgust roll around in his gut. Here he was, fondling his betrothed while she was bearing her soul to him. While she was crying. What a great fiancé he was.
The sky bearer moved both hands up to Aphrodite's cheeks, abandoning their previous positions without a single thought. He used the pad of one thumb to wipe away the moisture rather than using his powers. It felt right, that little touch of added intimacy. His goddess leaned her head into the contact. The room had become cold despite their shared body heat, and Percy fought the urge to shiver.
"The war stalemated unexpectedly, but not without clear lignes de bataille- great battle lines. Olympus in the east, Kronos in the west." Aphrodite opened her eyes again. She met Percy's gaze, not even attempting to hide the deep and profound sadness within. "In a grinding war of attrition, razing New Rome suddenly made military sense. Cut off from most supply and deep behind enemy lines, not even the bravest legions could survive years of unending assault."
"I get it," Percy tried to reassure. Aphrodite's grief was a swirling tide, rising with each revolution. Its tendrils were grabbing at him, attempting to drown him along with her. He refused to let it. "You don't need to go into detail, Aphy." But Hades, Percy felt horrible even thinking about the whole thing.
The great board of tally marks in his mind wasn't big enough for a whole fucking city.
Aphrodite nodded her chin into the sky bearer's hands, her face relaxing a bit in gratitude. "There were survivors, many more than Kronos had wished due to no shortage of bravery and resilience." She couldn't seem to make it sound like good news. Their eyes remained locked together, green-blue and swirling red-brown. "We ferried them east, to Camp Half Blood and closer to our protection. By then, Venus was stretched too thin." It was the same explanation Percy remembered her using to describe his father in the fight for Atlantis. "Keeping the two aspects apart was impossible, especially when the demigods began to live together, you see. Douloureux aussi- painful, too." Aphrodite shook her head a bit.
"So you stopped." Percy murmured. "Keeping them apart, I mean."
"Oui." There was no joy in Aphrodite's affirmative answer, only a strange sense of finality. "By then, the Greek aspects of each of us were clearly the ones in control. They were the basis, the new foundation, you see. Just as Ares and Mars became Ares Mars, Aphrodite and Venus became Aphrodite Venus. Deux dans un- two now one." His goddess took a shuddering inhale, one so long Percy could feel it through the squeeze of her legs on his waist. "In the end, only I remained." He didn't quite like the self-deprecation she was trying to hide beneath those words.
"Michael thought his mother was gone." The young god filled in the blanks out loud. Mitchell's words from the previous evening suddenly made a crushing amount of sense. What a horrible thing to think. Were Sally to die, Percy didn't even know what he would do.
"I tried to convince him otherwise, beloved. You must believe me." Aphrodite was holding her composure together admirably, literally leaning her body weight onto Percy for strength. "I am still his mother, no matter my name." Anyone who could see the goddess' shaking features or feel her trembling hands would have found it impossible to say that she didn't love her child. "But I am not a taskmaster, nor do I wish to be a general." Her tone was weary, the sound of someone who had been forced to be both in the past. "And so, I let him go, as the saying goes." The play on words had a dark, unhappy smile lifting one half of Aphrodite's lips. "Ironic, n'est-ce pas?"
The story petered out, then, with that last mournful stroke. The two immortals sat and breathed for a moment, each caught inside the eyes of the other. Percy peered through Aphrodite's chocolate-rose whirlpool, gently moving aside any fragments of the mask he could see she was trying to reconstruct.
You don't need to hide from me.
Percy tried to say it without moving his mouth, pictured the words crossing those few inches between them. With their auras so close, so mixed, he was hopeful that it had somehow worked. He couldn't imagine it hadn't, not with how much contact there was. The young god felt a fierce rush of affection when he saw Aphrodite finally give up on reconstructing her veil. That surrender somehow felt like they had advanced a step forward.
"Is that going to happen to me?" Percy asked, softly. "A split, and then a reunion?" The son of Poseidon hoped that immediately flipping the conversation around to himself didn't sound selfish. But the man knew that Aphrodite needed something else to focus on, and offering up himself for the role seemed the most effective route.
"I would assume not, mon coeur." The love deity didn't sound completely sure, but certainly more firm than Percy was fearing. A bit of life returned to Aphrodite's downcast expression. "You already represent both halves of yourself, I would guess." She snorted, a sound of almost-humor that sent hot breath across his cheeks. "We could ask Athena to be sure."
"I'd rather not." Percy grimaced. His conversation with the wisdom deity had left a sour taste in his mouth, one that wasn't just because of the wine. The prospect of speaking to her further wasn't a sunny one.
"I suppose we could start calling you 'Perseus Persei Jackson', if you really insist." The sight of Aphrodite returning to her normal self was both welcome and stunning. That teasing tilt was a sound for sore ears. "The alliteration is nice, non?" Her lips quirked up.
"I think I'm okay." Percy let his hands drop from Aphrodite's cheeks back to her hips, not willing to move them away just yet. He gave her a tiny smile in return. "I like Percy just fine." The son of Poseidon stalled for a few moments, before dropping the smile to bite at his bottom lip. "Is that what happened to Silena?" He hated bringing up the name the moment it left his mouth. "Did she die in New Rome?"
The goddess shook her head, any semblance of cheer falling away. The curtain of her hair vibrated with the motion. "Silena was the head counselor of my cabin at Camp Half Blood when the war began." His goddess began moving her fingers over Percy's torso again, mostly in small and comforting circles. Whether she was reassuring him or herself was up for debate. "Eventually, it was discovered that she was acting as a spy for Kronos." Percy's chest hitched, his goddess quickly using her hands and aura to sooth his skin. "Calm, Percy. S'il vous plaît."
Her desperate tone cut Percy to his core. The young god did his best to tone down the angry blaze in his veins, fighting the rush of anger back into submission. It took him a moment, one far longer than he would like. This was already hard enough for his betrothed. Percy was determined not to make it worse.
"Was she punished?" Percy asked instead, his voice sandpaper-rough. Olympus didn't take kindly to turncoats. In the past, Ares had taken great pleasure in mounting their heads on pikes. The idea of Aphrodite's daughter being subjected to such a thing made the sky bearer feel sick.
"Non." Aphrodite's face was pleading with him to understand. "She was blackmailed into the position in the first place, you must understand." Percy released a sigh of relief, not bothering to hide it. His goddess unwound a bit at the sound as she continued. "Instead, Olympus chose to take advantage of the situation. Silena found herself posted in obscure locations, given incorrect orders, fed nonsensical troop numbers." The love deity seemed to hold a grudging respect for the idea. "She was a double agent, if an unknowing one. Mieux que la mort- better that than death."
Percy got the impression that Aphrodite had fought long and hard for that outcome. It was clear in how weary her face had become for a brief instant during the explanation. The sky bearer could only imagine the rage from the council, Zeus most of all, that his goddess must have deflected all for the sake of her daughter. Her spy daughter. The sheer loyalty of that idea had Percy's core flaring with teal energy, a burst of wind stirring the hair around the immortal's faces.
Gods, could he love this woman any more?
"All was well until the final battle, where you were freed and Kronos slain. Mon moment." Aphrodite interrupted Percy's starstruck musings, thankfully oblivious to the sappy thoughts in his head. "The Titan finally ferreted out her unwitting treachery once the surprise attack began, and dispatched a Lydian Drakon as a last act of revenge." She cringed in distaste.
Percy's grip on his goddess' waist was tight, images of dark scales and sharp teeth flashing across his perception. Aphrodite's fingers pressed with the same force against the young god's chest. It was such a horrible, disgusting, petty thing to do. And yet, that seemed to be all the Titan capable of in his last stand. Kronos has wasted perhaps one of his strongest pieces, all to kill a single demigod. Just as he had left Percy to suffer only to appease his own ego.
Percy regretted not killing him twice.
"My daughter died a hero, rallying the forces of Olympus to slay the beast." There was a great pride in Aphrodite's voice, intermixed with her sorrow. "Hades assured me she has found a place in Elysium." Another one of those favors, perhaps. "The wound of her death cuts deep, my love. I fear that her memory still haunts my living children."
The curtains of hair collapsed, then, as his goddess slowly dropped her torso onto Percy's own. It was as if her arms had gradually lost the strength to hold her upright. Aphrodite barely even moved other than to tuck the crown of her head under his chin and plant her lips on his right collarbone. She was like the world's greatest weighted blanket, each breath hot enough to both send him to sleep or rile him into a lustful haze.
Normally, the feeling of her chest and stomach pressing into him would have had the sky bearer blushing up a storm. Now, it was all Percy could do to wrap his arms around his goddess' back and stare up at the newly revealed painted beach above. For several moments, the room was silent save for the distant burbling of the jacuzzi and the distant crash of waves on sand. It was so peaceful, yet so out of step with the turmoil stirring in Percy's chest. Apollo's sun was far too cheerful as it beamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and for the first time the sky bearer wished it had been cloudy instead.
The memory still haunts you, Percy wanted to say. You're hurting too, Aphy. The words never made it past his mouth. The sky bearer couldn't muster the strength to push them from his skin, either. It made him feel like a coward.
The young god could see it, feel it, that wound Aphrodite mentioned. It had been all but gushing blood behind her swirling eyes. Percy didn't understand why she hadn't mentioned it. Was his betrothed worried he wouldn't understand? That he would be judgmental? That was the exact opposite of the truth.
This pattern of repeatedly ignoring her own emotions was something that was beginning to worry Percy a great degree. This beautiful, arresting woman in his arms might have been a goddess, but she was still a person. A mother. A being with thoughts and feelings that he valued immensely. The sky bearer just had no idea on how he was supposed to go about making her see it for herself. He tightened his grip around her body, holding her with a fierceness he wished he could put into words.
"I am sorry to burden you like this, Percy."
Aphrodite's wispy voice shocked him. Percy had never heard her so stretched, almost transparent. For several seconds he couldn't believe that she was the one apologizing. The love deity felt undeniably fragile as she used the sky bearer's chest to hide her face, like she would shatter if he squeezed any harder.
"It's okay." Percy answered softly. It wasn't, not really, at least not yet. But he had faith. A few more quiet breaths passed.
"Suffice to say, this is not what I had in mind for this morning." Aphrodite hummed, her voice a bit lighter than before. The vibration seeped into Percy's collar bone, sending a flurry of butterflies fluttering in his stomach. That bit of humor was good, like a key change of her tone from minor back to major.
Percy chuckled a bit, but then Aphrodite started circling her pelvis again and he forgot how. It only took one revolution for the young god's blood to remember where it had been flowing only a few minutes before. The complete whiplash had Percy's head spinning as much as her slow, torturous motions.
He had forgotten she did that.
"That's mean." Percy grunted, clenching his eyes shut. He couldn't help the way his hips twitched upwards, needy. It took a great deal of effort to keep from bucking in a decidedly un-chivalrous fashion. The fact that he could feel her everywhere was suddenly, violently relevant again.
"Oh, Percy." Aphrodite' voice regained its force, each syllable dripping with a completely unfair amount of sexual desire. Her hips never stopped moving, drawing back out every inch of Percy's arousal. "I must apologize if you have been misled, but . . ." The goddess propped her head and neck up with her forearms, putting her smirking lips only a half-inch away. Her eyes flashed pink. "I am mean."
He kissed her.
It wasn't even a conscious decision. Percy's logical brain was no longer in control, not that it would have disagreed anyway. The sky bearer had been completely taken over by the feeling, the friction, the force of Aphrodite. If his goddess wanted to present her face on a silver platter, who was he to deprive himself of having a taste?
She was as soft as Percy remembered. Just like the previous night, there was a heat to her, some sort of addictive texture that blanked out every thought in his head. Percy had Aphrodite's bottom lip trapped between his own for only a moment, before the two immortals parted with a soft, sensual sound and she returned the favor. The sky bearer naturally let his eyes fall closed, unable to muster the will to keep them open.
One of her hands slithered beneath his neck, fisting into his hair and tilting his skull up to allow for deeper access. The young god couldn't do anything but grip Aphrodite's waist, holding her form like the safety bar on a roller coaster. If he let go, Percy knew he would fall and be lost forever.
Unlike their first real kiss, this time Aphrodite took things slow. Leisurely. She allowed the man to enjoy every moment of their contact while very clearly doing the same. Once again, Percy couldn't help but attribute her to a dancer - each grind of her hips was a slight change in step, the flowing moves echoed by their kiss. One revolution had him gasping and opening his mouth, and the next found her tongue deep in his throat. His goddess tasted him, explored him, sampled every inch of the sky bearer's palette with a chorus of panting moans.
It wasn't long before Percy was returning the favor, drawn over like a willing puppet on pink strings. He ran his tongue across the bottom of Aphrodite's teeth, finding the points of her canines simply fascinating. It would have been stupid to call the make-out anything other than what it had devolved into, especially with the way Percy started humping up into the love deity's heat of his own violation.
Fuck it. That thought signaled his complete undoing.
The two immortals were a self-fueling engine, a perpetual motion machine of touch and taste. It was a battle, a war where both were the victors no matter how each battle concluded. And oh, the son of Poseidon had never been so glad to lose in his life.
Percy didn't know how he ended up on top, only that at some point he had gripped Aphrodite's wrists and flipped her hard enough to send the mattress creaking dangerously. The fact that she had let him do so only fanned the flame they were building together. The goddess had tried to cry out in pleasure, but the young god had swallowed the sound with his lips. This time it was his turn to drive down into her body, their silken clothes roughing harshly together.
"So big." Her pleased whimper was lost into his mouth. It only drove Percy closer to the brink of insanity. Having a literal goddess, his goddess, beneath him and feeling the way her back arched off the sheets and her groin pressed into his own made the sky bearer feel like he was about to explode. Her ghostly hands were wanting, frantic, pushing and pulling Percy's body into the thrusting motion with unexpected force.
There was a hunger inside him, a primal need so great it had the son of Poseidon holding his breath minute after minute so that their faces never needed to be apart. He couldn't help the desperate sounds that crept from his throat as Aphrodite dipped her chin to drag her tongue across the cut of his jaw. He returned the favor by peppering kisses across her cheeks, trying to land one on each of those tiny pink sparkles.
Their auras were melding again, sending waves of divine power rebounding throughout the room strong enough to rattle the paintings on the walls. The steam from the hot tub and the sound of the beach only heightened the atmosphere, driving them both into a complete frenzy. Wind whipped around the bedroom, a hurricane of cloud and air with the two Olympians at the center. More, higher, up and up they went, every second lasting an age.
Percy was close, close to the point of no return. Their hips were moving, rutting back and forth into each other to a rhythm as old as time. Each motion sent electricity through his veins, straight from their almost-union and up to his brain. The feeling was somehow too much and yet not enough at the same time. Percy couldn't even bring himself to remember all of the fantasies he had been pretending not to think about for the past week. In that moment, there was nothing else but her and him and the feeling of their bodies working against and yet with one another, desperate to stimulate every bundle of overloaded nerves.
Aphrodite had forgotten to be gentle when the sky bearer had taken control - the goddess fought him, bit him, clawed at his back with her nails enough to nearly draw ichor through his shirt and Percy loved every damn second of it. She was gasping, writhing, panting his name into his lips like a repeated prayer. There was a coil of tension low in his gut, each press of their mouths winding it up and up and up. The sky bearer's body was out of his control, and it was so bad but he was close, close, so close to just-
"My Lady?"
Percy had never been so grateful and yet so disappointed to hear Peitho's voice.
The Housekeeper's mature tone cut through the air and through the literal pink wall of lust the two immortals had generated. The sky bearer's eyelids snapped wide. By the time the bedchamber door had finished opening, Percy had already ejected himself off of Aphrodite with strength enough to crack the headboard when he clipped it with his side. The young god tumbled across the bed, almost falling off the edge of the mattress. His lungs were heaving and his face felt the same temperature as the surface of the sun.
What was he doing?! 'Fuck it'? When had he ever thought something like that?
"Peitho." His goddess could barely get the word out, panting and breathy. Aphrodite hadn't moved from where Percy had pinned her body, laid out almost like a starfish in the center of the mattress. "I believe I made it very clear we were not to be disturbed this morning." He couldn't see her face, but the sky bearer didn't have to in order to feel shivers of fear sliding down his spine at her tone.
Percy wrenched his gaze away from the hypnotizing sight of the rapid rise and fall of his goddess' chest. Their . . . intimate moment had practically torn her shift from her body. It was a miracle any of Aphrodite's private areas were still covered, though there were two obvious peaks poking through the sheer fabric. Percy tried very hard to ignore how they were just ever so slightly darker than the surrounding skin. The air around the bedroom was thick, suffocating. It smelled of sweat and heat and sex so strongly it was a miracle it contained any oxygen at all.
Percy was going to need another long, cold shower after this.
"It's no longer morning, My Lady. My Lord." The Housekeeper tipped her head respectfully in Percy's direction, completely unphased by his scramble to pull the sheets over his crotch. Peitho was dressed as professionally as usual, with that same titular bun at the crown of her head. "You'll have to forgive my intrusion. Ms. Jackson insisted that the young master should eat, however."
It was an obvious excuse, and everyone in the room could tell. More than that it was clearly a rescue, a life-preserver tossed to Percy when he needed one but didn't even ask for it. The young god had wanted to drown. That was the problem. Damn Peitho and her finely-tuned instincts.
The tan minor god had chosen to go with a pale-red apron that morning, rather than the standard white. It contrasted nicely with her black boots and dark skirt. Peitho's wise eyes were twinkling with mirth as she pushed in a two-tiered silver serving cart through the portal. The thing ghosted over the tile on greased wheels, steam rising from no less than four massive, covered plattorns. Even through Aphrodite's aura, it smelled heavenly.
"Lunch is served."
"Peitho . . ." Aphrodite gave a deep warning growl, one that had sweat dripping down the back of Percy's neck. Not that he could pay that much attention, because every iota of his effort was going into trying to force down his still obvious erection. The sound of a goddess denied would have been enough to send any mortal fleeing for their life, and a few immortals too. Peitho didn't care.
"I took the liberty of building out a tentative schedule for the visit to camp, My Lord and Lady." With ease born from millennia of repetition, the smartly-dressed woman somehow found a dozen invisible latches on the cart that dropped it off the wheels and unfurled the thing into a strange but beautiful circular table. "Today seems to be penciled in for both recovery and 'personification practice'." Peitho was definitely smirking at the sky bearer with that sentence. Through it all, not a single lid cover even moved a hair. "I assume that Ms. Jackson will be joining us tomorrow?"
"Yes!" Percy squeaked out his answer, cutting off what he could sense was going to be another snarl from his denied goddess. Aphrodite huffed in acceptance, still motionless and spread eagle on the mattress. "I mean, yes." The young god cleared his throat, watching as pink mist rose into the air every time the goddess exhaled. "I'd like it if my mom was there."
Percy's own teal was all over the floor, enough of the stuff to make the fog spawning from underneath the bed frame more saturated than the painted clouds in the ceiling mural. The air inside the room remained restless, fluttering the sheets and disturbing the surface of the jacuzzi's water. Percy was tempted to grab some of the stuff and douse his whole body just to feel something other than Aphrodite's aura against his skin.
"Very good, My Lord." Peitho's tone was a masterclass in both respectful apathy and motherly teasing. The Housekeeper uncovered the first tray, revealing a positively sinful spread of steak, potatoes, and expertly prepared fresh vegetables. Each was sprinkled in gold ambrosia. "Medium rare, young master?"
It was a wonder the plates even fit into Peitho's hands with how much food there was. The sky bearer had thought they would be eating at the table, but the way the older immortal approached the mattress made it obvious that lunch in bed was the ticket of the day. Percy just nodded, not even questioning how she knew his meat preference. Although it was probably just the same as Aphrodite's, now that he thought about it.
Fortunately, Percy had almost managed to wrestle certain parts of his anatomy back under control by the time the Housekeeper drew close. He was so distracted by not looking at his betrothed that he didn't question it when the tray found his hand even with Peitho several feet away. The sky bearer's real fingers plucked it from the platform of swirling air and placed it on his lap as yet another layer of protection. He hadn't even noticed he had done so, the usual strain completely absent. The wizened Housekeeper watched for a moment, amused, before click-clacking back to her serving table.
Percy eventually found a way to pick up the fork and knife without his hands shaking, but it took a couple of tries. Unfortunately, the son of Poseidon did not find a way to get rid of his utter mortification at what had just transpired. Nearly dry humping his fiancé to climax was not how the son of Poseidon had wanted their second real kiss to go.
By contrast, Aphrodite seemed utterly disappointed. It occurred to Percy that he hadn't been the only one denied a release. His goddess still hadn't moved other than to shift her head to track Peitho's steps across the room. The frosty expression hiding behind her veil was, honestly, almost as bad as when Sally did the same thing. That in and of itself was an achievement. Her aura was sharp enough to cut steel.
As the Housekeeper laid a second tray next to the love deity's prone form, Percy found himself going over the morning's events in his head. Each bite of perfectly cooked steak had him slowly falling back to a normal temperature, the blush on his cheeks reducing. He could empathize with Aphrodite's visual despondence, in a way.
It had felt really good.
There was really only one thing that had bugged him during the whole thing. Aside from the end, but that went without saying. For that brief moment when Percy had been flipping the goddess over, their hands had brushed. The sky bearer was still wearing his engagement band, obviously. With every passing day he was more and more reluctant to ever take the thing off, and that wasn't just because of its status as a fashion statement.
That wasn't the problem - the problem was that when his jeweled band was pressing against Aphrodite's fingers, Percy's right hand had looked to do the same to her left. At that moment, the son of Poseidon hadn't had time or mental faculties to know what he was looking for. Now, sitting a few feet away and sneaking peaks above his tray, Percy realized what had been bothering him so badly.
Aphrodite didn't have a ring.
The goddess' fingers were unadorned by any sort of jewelry. It was especially obvious when the pouting deity decided to actually sit up and grab her food, still glaring daggers at her oldest friend. Percy wasn't exactly sure why, but that really rubbed him in an unpleasant way. Was it possessive, to want such a thing? Did he really care, even if it was?
Maybe he'd be calling in one of those favors from Hermes earlier than he thought.