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put a sock on the door, then kiss me some more

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Forty-eight hours almost exclusively studying for an exam really does a number on a guy. Honestly, every time something like this happens; the moment he’s done, the minute Percy puts the pen down or submits the assignment, all the very necessary parts of life that his brain (and the ADHD-related pharmaceuticals) had deemed temporarily unnecessary flood back into focus in a rush. Like the need for water, for instance. Not even in a son of Poseidon kind of way; more so in a ‘you’re way below the daily recommended intake’ kind of way. And other things, like the importance of potty breaks and teeth brushing. Those too. All of it hits him, the dehydration, the full bladder, the stale breath, the plates of pasta remains and hardened pizza rolls and taquitos accumulated in his room, begging to be picked up. Boom, back to reality. Hi Percy, it’s the tattered remains of your day-to-day life calling, we just wanna check in, it’s been a minute.

 

But the moments after a flare of academic intensity are a high in and of themselves. A chance to refocus on the important things in life.

 

Like this, Percy thinks, this is very important. The most important fucking thing in the world – 

 

Fuck, yess… like that. Oh fuck,” Percy moans in ecstasy as Annabeth drains (restores?) his life force from her post between his legs.

 

But, context. Right. Let’s take a couple steps back. 

 


 

noonish

 

It was just moments after his monster of a stats midterm and the gold medal worthy post-exam piss he took in the lecture hall bathroom, and Percy stepped outside into the stream of students and FaceTimed his girlfriend. Hers was the voice he needed to hear to truly celebrate the glorious end to the unit from hell.

 

“...did I ace that exam? No. That’s unlikely.” He dropped his board to the ground and skated smoothly into the bike path. “But did I fail the exam? I can promise you, I did not fail that mother fucker.” He called out, “on your left” warning a slow biking duo of his approach before he flew past them.

 

“You better have passed. After ignoring me for two days.” Her face on the screen was a bit shadowed, but the sky backing her was a clear, true blue. “I haven’t heard a peep from you since Monday.”

 

The crowd of students thinned as he skated away from the center of campus and approached the parking lot. “Peep peep baby. Here I am. And you know that saying about the pot and the kettle– hey wassup man!” Her view of him went haywire; the sky, something dark, incomprehensible flashes of scenery, as he greeted someone he knew. When the camera was back on his face, she could see him getting into his car.

 

“Look at you driving to class, after shaming me about gas money last week–”

 

“I was gonna be late. I had to.” He dropped his phone in his lap before getting the engine running. Back up, in drive, and he was on his way. “So can I come over– fuck!” A biker had nearly careened into his passenger door.

 

“Percy, it's noon. I have class in like 15 minutes.”

 

“After class then?”

 

“Class all day on Thursdays–”

 

“Right, right,” he recalled.

 

“–And midterms next week, too. I think Remi and I and a couple others are gonna pull a study group together.”

 

He made a face before offering, “I can come over. Help you focus.” 

 

“Right. What exactly are you gonna help me focus on?”

 

He glanced down long enough for her to spy his grin.

 

“Stay in New Rome. You look like you could use a nap.”

 

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m wired.” He craned his neck, checking his blind spot as he added, “Jason messaged me earlier, said he’s in town.”

 

“Is he gonna stay with you guys? Or with the legion?”

 

“I don’t know.” He looked at the road ahead, thoughts drifting. “I should probably message him back.”

 

“Percy! Yes you should message him back! I would be so annoyed.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “You aren’t the only person I’ve been neglecting. But,” he dragged out the word, looking down at her face on the screen for emphasis, “you are the first person I called when I was free.”

 

“I feel so special.” She was inside a hall now, no more blue sky, the noisy hustle had dimmed, and he could see her face clearly without the glare of the sun behind her.

 

“I have to go,” she said with some regret. She looked pretty; her hair was pushed back in a headband and she had these little gold hoop earrings on. “But I’ll talk to you later.”

 

“When I come over tonight–”

 

“Percy. No.”

 

“Talk to you later babe, kiss kiss bye bye.”

 

He caught her exasperated smile on the screen before she hung up.

 


 

around one

 

The first thing he did when he arrived home was shower. Maybe the longest, steamiest shower of his life. Somewhere in the top 20 at least. He was freshly washed and feeling gracious when he finally touched base with Jason. 

 

“Look who responds. 72 hours after the fact.”

 

Percy’s eyes rolled and he jammed his feet into a pair of slides.

 

“Do you know that I hate when I call someone back, and the first thing they do is complain about how long it took me to call them back?”

 

“Do you know you’re the last person I’d call if my life was in danger? No– listen. Just picture it. I'm drowning. Everybody's like, 'call Percy, call Percy.' And I'd have to tell them 'no. He probably won't answer–’”

 

"Alright, thanks– I get it."

 

Percy tossed his damp towels into the hamper. Or, like, right next to the hamper because it was overflowing. Jason’s smug indignation was making his eyes itch. He was feeling less gracious.

 

“Do you need a place to stay or what?”

 

“Yeah, it’s sorted. Talked to Frank. I know you’ve missed me.”

 

They finished up their call, going back and forth as Percy began resuscitating his dirty excuse of a bedroom. Uneaten microwaveable pizza rolls? In the trash. Chicken bones? No longer welcome. Sally would have given him an earful if she’d seen the state of his living space.

 

Thirty minutes later, Percy stepped back into the apartment, having just dumped a trash bag into the bin by the street. He was shutting the door behind him when he heard someone call his name from his room.

 

He walked into the small space in time to catch his girlfriend flopping back onto his mattress.

 

“Your front door was wide open,” she said by way of greeting.

 

“Yeah,” he covered the distance between them, a smile growing on his face. He balanced his knee on the mattress, doing a quick survey of her appearance. “Not like you need permission to come in here.” He hovered over her with a grin. “I was just taking out the trash.” 

 

He settled on top of her as they kissed.

 

He pulled back and slid his hand into her hair. “I'm quite surprised, but very happy to see you, Miss I-have-class-all-day.” He tugged her hair, she tipped her chin up and lengthened her neck and that was an invitation if he’d ever seen one. “What happened?” His mouth brushed along her neck.

 

“I skipped.” She wrapped her legs around his hips. She was wearing a short, pleated skirt, and yeah, it crossed his mind that this was something straight out of one of his fantasies. It crossed his mind. A little.

 

“Bad girl,” he scolded, mockingly.

 

“The baddest.” 

 

“As you should know by now, I’ve been really good.”

 

“You have.” She arched slightly when his  hand traveled beneath her t-shirt and gripped her waist.

 

She brought his head to hers for another kiss. And another. And another. Both of them seemed to be of the same mind, if the building grind of their hips was any indication.

 

She pulled away and kissed a warm trail to his ear before whispering, "What can a bad girl like me do for a good guy like yourself?”

 

Percy dropped his face into her neck and started laughing. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me, not getting any blood to my brain right now.”

 

And that brings us to Percy’s current position, cursing while Annabeth, by the power vested in her, takes him to high heaven.

 

Gods. Oh gods. She’s amazing. She’s the best. Just a few of his scattered thoughts. Because she is the best. He loves her. He loves her head. In both an anatomical and sexual sense. 

 

“Mmm. The door.” Percy fights to get the warning out before his few remaining brain cells deactivate. He exhales hard through his teeth and looks down, cupping her cheek in one hand.

 

“Gotta put a– mmmh… sock on the… close the door …” He trails off, because Annabeth is looking up at him, devil in her eyes, and taking more of him into her mouth. 

 

His chest feels tight, it’s difficult to breathe. She gags, he throbs in response, his head tilts back and, again, he mutters, “Fuck.”

 

The door in question is the one that leads to his bedroom, and right now it stands ajar. Anyone walking by would spy him sitting at his desk chair, shorts around his ankles, on the receiving end of his girlfriend’s mouth.

 

She draws back, mouth on just the tip of him like he’s her favorite flavored blow pop and she’s trying to get to the bubble gum at the center. It’s too much to take in; him in her hand, her caressing her fingers through the black hair that trails from his belly button and thickens in an arrow pointing straight home. The way she bobs along, breathing through her nose. The way her lips stretch around him, pursed as she sucks with more force. The playful, sexy little licks of her tongue. Looking at her, like this, kneeling between his hard, spread thighs… it’s doing it for him. It’s doing all of it for him. She releases him for a breath and says, “Leave it.”

 


 

around three

 

Annabeth bites her lip as she looks up at him, broad and handsome with a satisfied sag in his shoulders, kneeling in the cradle of her thighs. She reaches for him, drawing him down to her body for comfort. He gives in to her beckoning touch with a groan and a whispered “fuck,” and fits his form to hers. He cradles her in his arms. She wraps a leg around his hip, lets a foot slide down his muscular calf as they grind together, belly to belly, chest to chest.

 

A whispered, “You good?”

 

A barely audible, “Yeah.”

 

It’s nothing but this slow, affectionate grind for a quiet, precious stretch of time; Annabeth tends to hold on to these moments, to draw them out in slow touches and clinging embraces. So they touch, bodies rocking and limbs clinging until Percy becomes so relaxed and the movement of his hips so subtle Annabeth starts to think he’s fallen asleep. She murmurs his name and he responds with a low, “mmmm.”

 

She can hear voices in the apartment, maybe two people; they sound like projections from another world.

 

His hair, already so dark, looks even darker where sweat has soaked it, and it’s both a soothing gesture and a means to rouse him when she cards her fingers through the hair at his nape. “How are you feeling?” she asks, free hand traveling up his flank. 

 

He breathes in deeply, then breathes out. It tickles her neck. “I am… exhausted,” he finally answers. He’s a bear right now, arms encasing her, hard chest flattening her breasts. Her favorite bear. He nuzzles his face in her neck before propping up on one elbow to look down at her. A half smile forms on his face as he takes her in, in all of her gorgeous, naked (minus that skirt), soft, languid, cuddly, tangled blonde glory. “I have nothing more to give.”

 

That smile widens when he brushes his thumb over her peaked breast and she chews on her lip in response, so he asks, “How do you feel?”

 

She pushes his hand away, then his shoulder so he rolls onto his back. “Sensitive,” she answers with a look, as she follows him until their positions are flipped. They still slip apart despite a mutual effort to remain lock and key, and both of them make a noise at that, but their sticky bodies would have had to separate at some point. “There isn’t much more that I could take,” she murmurs as she folds herself over him into him around him, and slides her legs against his.

 

If, earlier, Percy was the sea, then now Annabeth is a barnacle, clingy and protective of her personal environment. He can see them staying connected at the hip for the rest of the day, showering together, returning to bed to lie together and nap; maybe they’ll relocate to the couch and Annabeth will pluck his eyebrows or remove his blackheads the way she always does when they have too much time and she has unrestricted access to his face. Which she deserves, without a doubt, given the unrestricted access his dick had to her throat not too long ago.

 

But the call of the outside is loud, louder now that Percy can hear that it’s definitely Jason and Frank in the apartment and he can only stay shut away with his girlfriend for so long before it becomes weird or rude.

 

Percy eases himself out from under her and watches her rearrange herself on her stomach as he stands to his feet. That damn skirt. 

 

“Where’d this come from?” He tugs at the hem, trying to see how far beyond her ass it reaches. Not far.

 

“It’s Remi’s.” She turns on her side, facing him. “You like it?”

 

“Yeah I like it. Maybe too much.” His hand drifts between her legs. 

 

She sucks in a slow breath.

 

“Percy…”

 

“You gonna give it back?” She’s slick from the both of them, he grazes her where she's sensitive.

 

“I don’t think I can,” she breathes, “Percy…” 

 

He pulls her knee and she rolls onto her back, legs falling open.

 

“I don’t think you should.” He slides two fingers inside of her. She protests half heartedly, but she’s already moving with his hand.

 

Percy doesn’t let up until she’s trembling and dizzy for the third time that afternoon (the skirt had finally been removed after the second), and at that point his jaw is aching and he’s debating the wisdom of round four in the shower.

 

He feels her tugging rather forcefully at his hair, and with a muttered, “ow ow ow,” Percy gives in and allows her to create some space between her and his mouth.

 

Annabeth looks down at him and huffs, “You are like,” sucks in a break, “a dog after a bone.” She’s breathing heavily, and she bends one knee towards her chest to give her cramping leg muscles a stretch.

 

He’d rather think of himself as a musician, pulling symphony after symphony out of his favorite instrument.

 

Percy smiles up at her, laying his head on her thigh.

 

“Shower with me.” He turns his face to kiss her skin.

 

She’s closed her eyes. Her breath is slowing. She takes a minute to respond. “No.”

 

“Come on. It’ll be platonic.”

 

She opens her eyes and watches him rise up from his stomach to kneel between her legs. Very naked and manly and nice and definitely not unaffected by his time between her thighs... “I have never, ever taken a platonic shower with you.”

 

“Then this will be a first.” He moves off the mattress, long limbs stretching and unfolding as he stands. “Come on. We’re a mess.”

 

They are a mess. The room smells like sex. It certainly looks like sex has been had. Percy finds his discarded boxers and tugs them on.

 

“Can I get a shirt or something?” She’s finally risen from her prone position, now propped up on her elbows. A very hot, satisfied siren.

 

He grabs his discarded shirt from the floor and tosses it at her. Her nose wrinkles as she catches it.

 

“There's something sticky on this t-shirt.”

 

“The same something sticky is on you,” he counters with a laugh. “Just put it on.”

 




“I would give anything to never ever hear the two of you going at it ever in my life ever again. Ever.”

 

The couple finally joins Frank and Jason in the common area after a refreshing, very unplatonic shower. Frank is on his laptop in the living room, while Jason stands at the kitchen counter shoveling spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth.

 

“Loosen up buttercup.” Percy claps his hands down on Jason’s shoulders and shakes him aggressively. “You should have come and said hi if you were feeling so left out.”

 

Annabeth’s head jerks up abruptly, a flush reddening her cheeks, “Cut the shit Jackson.”

 

Jason shakes Percy’s hands off, “Not even dignifying you with a response, you bastard.”

 

“Takes one to know one,” Percy calmly shoots back, grabbing the box of Honey Nut Cheerios and dropping into one of the kitchen table chairs. Annabeth and Frank share a look across the counter. 

 

Takes one to know one,” Jason grumbles. “Is that all you’ve got? Can’t think of anything better than that?”

 

“You don’t have to be here Grace,” Percy remarks, unbothered as he roots in the box for a handful of the sugary cereal. “You could go sleep in the fucking barracks with the other Roman child soldiers.”

 

“You really get off to yourself.” The raised-eyebrowed look Jason is giving Percy would have slid anyone else in their place. “You forgot who you are? On Roman soil?”

 

Percy leans forward in the chair. “What are you talking about? You’re still on that shit?”

 

“Nah man. Sometimes you need a fucking reminder-”

 

“I know who I am. I don’t give a fuck -”

 

“Hey. HEY!” Frank raises his voice to be heard over the bickering demigods. “Both of you can stop now, alright?”

 

Jason pushes off the counter to pour the extra milk from his bowl into the sink-

 

“That better not be my milk you’re wasting-”

 

“Percy. Man, leave it alone.”

 

The son of Poseidon slowly relaxes back into his chair.

 

“And Jason,” Frank continues, “Trust me when I say it’s best to just not acknowledge them. Pretend you didn’t see anything, or hear anything-”

 

Percy finally looks away from Jason to toss a grin in Frank’s direction. “Frank’s selective hearing is legendary.”

 

“It’s self preservation.”

 

“Seems like you’re a terrible roommate, Jackson.”

 

“Is he gonna keep this up?” This from Percy, who’s looking around the room like, ‘why is this guy still talking?’

 

“Stop. Both of you,” Frank pleads.

 

“I don’t know, Frank,” Annabeth slides into Percy’s lap with her cup of water. “I say we let them battle it out. Fight to the death. See who comes out on top.” 

 

“Who are you betting on?” Percy wraps an arm around her waist as he asks.

 

Annabeth presses a kiss to his chin, then, holding his gaze, she whispers, “Jason.”

 

Jason makes a whooping noise and pumps his fist in the air. Percy holds his hand over his heart like he’s been mortally wounded. Frank falls against the couch cushions, laughing.