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On top of having to deal with and try to survive the constant death threats and attempts (it was never easy, and Percy will never get used to it), the half-bloods also have to deal with their secondary sexes, as if life gave you the nasty flavor of a brown jellybean, on top of all the nastiest flavors of all the nasties despite only opening the packaging just now.
What makes it worse than worse than worse are these facts:
a. The gods can and do sometimes watch,
b. Dreams can not give you a safe place for temporary subconscious pleasure,
c. When gods visit the camp for no good reason.
It’s not that Percy is in his rut that he isn’t exactly in the mood to deal with this scenario (a visit from the gods was and will never be a good sign), but because they had just got back from your daily half-blood life of trying not to get killed.
Not that he actually is in a mood to deal with visitors—he never does, but it still depends if it’s someone he can tolerate. Well, he can always tolerate Annabeth, no matter what it is for or when it is.
This secondary sex doesn’t really bother Percy as long as he remembered—he had more struggles concerning his ADHD and dyslexia garnering him concerns and laughters across multiple classrooms and schools and classmates he had to endure (which he kinda misses by the way, not in a masochistic way but rather the infinite peacefulness it gave)—Hades, he doesn’t even believe he is classified with one.
He never got a rut or got aroused with omega’s scents he can feel if they don’t have their blockers on. He doesn’t know.
Now, it’s as if it can be compared with something like ED, but with a dysfunctional nose? Never mind, he sounded a bit stupid with the analogy—even though it would, it doesn't matter—being a teenager doesn’t mean he’s a horndog that would want to hump in every given scenario. That’s so stereotypical; people do still think, and not just with their dicks, but then again, he doesn’t relate because he has yet to undergo it.
And he prays, he actually prays to the gods that the time will never come. Although he exactly doesn't, since he forgot all about it anyway.
“Some kids from the Hermes cabin got grounded.” Annabeth started a conversation as she sat across the table, munching on a single serving of apple pie.
“Huh?”
“Someone snitched on them; turns out they put rut activators across all bottled drinks without making it obvious they opened it. Only one was a real drug, the rest are empty capsules, they say,” she explained as she started playing with her food, absent-mindedly making small slices of the pie with her fork. “Good news is that someone has yet to report they had gone to rut off-schedule.”
Some newly arrived kids that were sorted in the Hermes cabin played a prank in the camp two days before Percy and Annabeth had gone back from their side mission. Someone who was staying long enough in the camp insisted on putting drug capsules among all the bottled and canned drinks readily available in the camp (be it Coke, Mountain Dew, or simply mineral and sparkling water) as a sort of Welcome, freshmen! ritual. What is this, college? Fraternity? Whatever it was, a half-blood from the Athena cabin snitched on them to Chiron which started monitoring and asking every alpha if there were any changes in their rut schedules. Percy got asked, too, but back then, he didn’t exactly know what it was about; he simply told the truth that, no, there wasn’t any in particular. After two days since the prank, today was the only time he knew about this.
“Just locking them inside their own cabin? Isn't that too lenient?” Percy wondered. Considering that the half-bloods in the Hermes cabin are notorious pranksters in nature, combined with unclaimed children of the gods, it did seem they got off the hook so easily. A prank that can risk unintended harm and… offsprings shouldn't be punished over something like staying inside your house and chill. “Chiron made the decision?”
Annabeth nodded. “It’s not that anyone had drank it. Plus every drink has been replaced since then to make a hundred percent sure no one actually gets lucky. You? Felt anything unusual?” She stared at him worriedly.
Percy laughed it off, “Nah. If anything, I’m better than usual. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten an actual breather here in this place.” He shrugged at her, giving her a Don’t worry! look. “Besides, remember? NRSB. No rut since birth.” He felt proud with the acronym.
Annabeth barely stifled a laugh at him, it is still a serious topic. “I know. It’s just… it’s still a chance, you know?”
For Annabeth, she doesn’t have to worry—betas do not go into heats or ruts. Even if she were an omega, she wouldn’t still be affected since the medicine’s components are specifically for ruts alone.
Percy still smells the lingering oakwood scent coming from Annabeth; she is still worried, after all. No matter how Percy still hasn’t gotten his first rut yet, he still knows about the stories of how inhumane, immoral, and simply abusive the effects of losing control due to their secondary sexes are, especially for alphas to omegas, that had been passed to everyone for the sake of awareness.
Percy even doubts until now if he truly is an alpha. Although he got diagnosed with it as soon as he turned 13 before he officially met Mrs. Dodds and got revealed that he's a demigod—that he has the prophecy to save Olympus and technically the world. He still wondered that maybe… maybe he’s a beta after all.
He mentally shrugged.
He doesn’t really mind, he really doesn’t; and if anything it being anything other than being a beta can possibly cause him an additional nuisance to his already over-bothered life. Betas are fine; they can still read the room with their own sensory glands on the scent the others are letting out, they can still express their honest feelings via their own scents, list goes on. Best part? No ruts or heats. Percy doesn’t believe in those anyway—fated pairs? Marking? As cheesy as it sounds, if you love someone, then you can do everything even at an impossible feat, it’s true anyway. If the shoe fits, it fits. Simple as that.
He doesn’t exactly know what his scent smells like to others, but it did seem like he managed to let Annabeth know that he’s saying the truth, as her already-subtle scents start to be forgotten by their own surroundings, with only the wet grass across the camp continuing to linger.
He smiled at Annabeth and how his chest continued to ache. It hurts seeing her like that, all pained, neverending pain and melancholy and yearning for someone not here when he already is at her side. Yet, all he can do is what he can, be there for her, no matter what she thinks of him.
He can’t exactly deny the heat coming off his face.
I know, I’m getting mad. It’s been years, years… but. I still feel jealous. Envious. And guilt.
Percy clenched on his fists. Normally, he wouldn’t show this bitterness to Annabeth. Duh, it’s been years since they’ve been together through thick and thin; he knew Annabeth would know (yet she wouldn’t pry, as she prefers the same in return), and he doesn’t want her to worry. But it did feel weird today; he felt more emotional than usual. Possessive? Kinda. But not in an alpha way that he’d want her for him alone, nah.
…Wait! He doesn’t even like Annabeth anymore! Like as in like, lovey-dovey fooweeh—it’s been years (he has said this line way too many times inside his head by now) since he finally moved on!
(They did get together—Annabeth and Percy—yet alas, everything has an ending to it.) But they are still on good terms, and if anything, it made their friendship grow tighter than ever.
But still, why does the weather feel hotter and less tolerable than usual? It just rained, and the sun isn’t exactly scorching hot… but why does he feel it likes to watch him melt?
…Is it just him, or does he feel the actual sun is being amused at his very predicament?
Then he felt something—
He fell over the seat he was on, with a foreign, spiking feeling within him. He tried scratching it out, his chest, arms, legs—it was futile, everything felt hot, itchy, and annoyingly insufferable—like an itch you can't exactly itch.
And that's when it dawned on him: for the first time in whole of Percy’s life, under the camp of half-bloods, no less.
His first rut.
It’s truly going to be an awkward week for him, his fellow half-bloods, adults, naiads (do they have secondary sexes as well?), satyrs (how about them?), immortals, gods, everyone within the vicinity.
Last face he saw was Annabeth panicking once more.
Man, I jinxed it, didn’t I? …Man.
And then everything went to fade.
Percy rose in a panic, and then that’s when he realized—he was inside a dream.
Because suddenly, instead of waking up from the dirt he remembered falling, he was now back sitting across a campfire, very far away from the general spot where half-bloods typically stay. It was sunset all of a sudden as if the sun had to go to a meeting, yet there weren't any insects around despite the flaming fire.
“You should be careful, Perseus. As much as you think you believe, carnal desires are nothing but normal amongst humans,” Apollo stated in front of him.
Percy shrugs. He experienced dealing with another's ruts—he knew how uncontrollable it is, mortal, half-blood, gods (if they wanted to, at least) alike. “Lend me a hand, then?”
Apollo shrugs. “Hm, I am interested in how you deal with your first rut.” He said, slowing down as if he was thinking of it, but Percy knew it was just on purpose and was playing with him. “Maybe not now.”
“But anytime after now is good?”
This wasn't their first rodeo—Apollo and Percy. They had a few private exchanges here and then, as one of them (that no one wanted to admit explicitly) did the first move (it's Apollo), and everything progresses as time goes around. They're not fuck-buddies, per se, but they don't have a label to begin with, either. As long as the demigods know, Percy's recent relationship was with his now ex-girlfriend, Annabeth Chase.
(Not that it matters; no one would actually dare start rumors that concern a god on the one half of it.)
Before he knew it, Apollo's already standing in front of him. Apollo roughly grabbed Percy's chin, forcing him to look up. Beneath the sky, slowly gradients from orange to pink to purple, the god before him still shone with his blonde hair and perfect tan skin, his blue eyes’ cool tones opposite of his burning stare. Lust, he fears he believes so. Resonating with no speech needed to be stated.
Apollo chuckled as he felt the shivers Percy had felt. Slowly, he traced his free hand on Percy's jeans, starting from the knee up to the inner thigh, and started tracing where a bulge was growing in size.
And he leaned on Percy's ear.
“—If you survived. But then again, you can always beg!”
OK, this is weird.
Two things: First, that was Apollo visiting him in his dream. Now, it really wasn’t anything mind-boggling info—they do fuck here and there—and pretty much into each other. Gods aren’t exactly immune to the secondary sex thing, but rather that they are gods to begin with—greedy and prideful among all the verbs you can describe them with.
Label? The idea does make Percy think it would be better because if anything, he truly loves the man, even though the one he's fucking is a god. But then again, it wouldn’t exactly be a peaceful scenario of his friends having gazillion mixed yet mostly negative reactions all at once were he to have an official relationship with Apollo, no.
Moreover, two alphas… that is truly a separate topic.
…In any way.
Not that Apollo went through the mortal stuff, considering he was turned into one more than once, but rather he likes the appeal of it. Maybe. That’s only based on Percy's conclusion. But he does help the god on his ruts and especially when there's really nothing, just two men liking the physical contact with the other.
So, yeah. Him appearing in his dream was not surprising, but rather the dare. And he's scared; it is his first rut, after all. Sure, he knows what goes on with the others on their firsts, but of those from the Internet. He doesn’t really ask his friends about it—no, that's embarrassing. And a bit too personal. Yup.
The dare was thrilling, sure. Percy swallowed; Apollo wouldn't be the kinda god that would be watching him 24/7 just to watch him slip, won't he? But then again, gods tend to have zero ideas on the concept of personal space, so he wouldn't expect any. Yet, the idea, as much as ruts are known to be painful, was hot. Percy loves a challenge to prove the gods wrong, and Apollo isn’t an exemption.
Now, the second weird thing:
For some reason, Percy was already fine on the second day. He didn’t know… were ruts always this easy to get by? Do people truly, simply succumb to their carnal desires once they feel the heat on their dicks? That got him laughing, not on how amusing it is, but on how stupid the very thought of it is. Seriously?
“I am not gonna jinx it.” He said, but mentally fistpumped himself. Awesome. Lookin’ good so far. Good job, me.
Even Annabeth was surprised as she visited. She brought some fruits and some biscuits for easy consumption. She put the tray on the bedside table and leaned her back on the wall as she faced Percy. “Well, yeah, your scent is tolerable. It's as if your rut was a prank in itself.”
Not gonna lie, Percy felt disappointed. It's like he got blue balls but on a different approach. He wondered if Apollo trolled him and decided to heal his rut for funsies—that, he did think it sounded plausible, but he can still recall how intrigued and mischievous the god's dare was.
Turns out the rut came back on the third. And now he felt like dying.
Well, he might be overreacting; turns out no one really cares. More like everyone has their own thing to deal with—a half-blood who’s an alpha that’s experiencing their rut for the first time is not really their cup of tea (which is, of course, for the best; he already had one god to deal with) to be a topic in a girls’ night. Or that he has Annabeth to take care of him yet again. And Annabeth always saves his day.
Also, he made sure to wear several layers of clothing—Annabeth made sure of that—and man, it is hot. Sticky feeling of sweat from the layers (making sure no omegas will trigger his instincts and vice versa), and his rut silently boiling in him. And by silently, that’s the calm before the storm thing.
“Son, had anyone in mind that can assist you?”
Except Chiron had to step up on this one—yay—and nay—because he didn't allow Annabeth to stay with Percy in the Poseidon cabin. It is obvious, in one way or another, not that Chiron was discriminating because she is a female, but rather it's because she is, and combining that with an alpha on rut is not exactly a good idea, even if you are a beta.
Not that men are safe, either; omegas do still can get pregnant, but at least the rest are a-OK for Chiron in babysitting Percy with his deflowered rut state. Congrats, Perce. Clap, clap!
…Of course, no one volunteered.
Well, why would they? Saving the world from ongoing nature, gods, et cetera threats to humankind doesn’t give him a pass that they will worship him. He's not the famous guy in class, be it back in the mortal community or here; it's all then the same.
His friends are away from the camp, aside from Annabeth, no less.
In the end, Percy insisted that it’s alright. If anyone would voluntarily help him, then OK, sure. Chiron eventually agreed on Annabeth helping (she really, really, really wanted to, and Percy really couldn’t believe there’s someone as her in his life), as long as the cabin’s door. Soon after, noises and murmurs started dissipating outside Cabin Three.
He really wished it was alright, though. He really thought so, but then what could a half-blood life be if there were a day of nothing but peace? (This—he was glad that he managed to jinx it for good for once in his life, thank gods.)
And so. Back to the now—
Now he's all alone in his cabin, his body incapable of handling the foreign pheromones and hormones and everything overwhelming.
Writhing in pain and arousal, so confused, wanting to sleep all of these overwhelming arousal and need and want. Percy can feel all the heat going down to his member, slowly, slowly, slowly getting painfully harder as the seconds ticking start to feel like an eternity. He wanted some release; yet there was nothing he could do but the urge to hump on his mattress.
Except it doesn’t exactly get hard, and that means it hurts so, so, so much more.
It felt absolutely disgusting and only brought him nothing but short-lived relief. Humping, that is.
But the constant arousal is still there, and he can’t do shit about it. His body craves for an omega he doesn’t know, nor does he even care who it is as long as they are an omega. To breed. To put his knot in.
A chuckle, obviously in despair, echoed within the silence, trying to distract himself from this very predicament.
Percy knew and regretted it—belittling his rut. He knew he had jinxed it and even wished to apologize to all of the rut-havers for mocking them. Never again, my people. …I'm sorry, really.
Time has passed, and Percy barely managed to make any progress. He tried everything; tweaking his nipples, playing with his ass, humping—things Apollo would do on him whenever the god had his own ruts to deal with—nothing.
The layers of clothing don’t help either, nor would he want to remove them since he feels so insecure, being alone, being in the camp with so many people around—it’s not the right time to shout that Percy Jackson is within the vicinity because he’s in a fucking rut.
He wants to cry, to sob it all out, but he remembers the dare. And he’s too prideful for that—he wants to wipe that smirk off Apollo’s face, be it in just a dream. He doesn’t and never wants to lose, and he’s that petty.
Yet, sadly, it is his alpha instincts he's against.
Percy doesn’t realize that time is quickly passing and that he barely cares how disgusting it feels anymore. Pre-cum, tears, and saliva all wetting his sheets, Percy panting so much like he just had the worst workout ever, the air in the whole cabin was so heavy with pure perspiration and the lack of fresh air—it's so bad. His body feels so heavy; everything feels mentally and physically tiring. All he can do is curl up and force himself to sleep. Or think of some mega turn-off thoughts.
(Which doesn't work as he ends up imagining pure horny. Very embarrassing.)
Gods… he wanted to mate someone so bad. Could be anyone, anyone plial, weak, small, an omega—mate, fuck, put his dick as he grinds on them—
Gods. Anyone will do. It doesn't matter. He doesn't care.
Please.
Then he remembered the dream Apollo had invaded. It was all a dream, but everything felt so vivid—Apollo watching him intently, Apollo daring him, Apollo's body heat, Apollo touching him through his jeans—
He clumsily unbuttoned his jeans, not even bothering to drop them, and simply flapped his dick out of his boxers. He didn’t even bother warming up the lube as he poured so much on his shaft; he managed to hiss—of course it's painful—but arousal overcame all as his thoughts of the god flooded his mind.
Touching the slit of his dick once more, he imagined Apollo stroking it, matching the pace he's envisioning with his actual jacking off. He imagines Apollo making fun of him, degrading him, “In all of millennia, this is the first time I've seen an alpha so… submissive.”
“Fuuuck,” Percy moaned loudly. “Apollo, harder, fasterI'msocloseth-there—”
”Let it all out, Perseus Jackson.”
Percy whined.
And came for the first time after all his futile attempts of getting hard.
He passed out, weakly holding on to his hard-on.
Percy woke up to someone lightly tapping his cheek. It was a struggle to open his eyes, which were full of dried tears and eye gunk, but he saw familiar blue eyes and blonde hair staring at him with the worst amused face ever. “Wha—?” It was a struggle to speak as well; his throat dried from the lack of hydration after the intense jacking-off session with himself.
“Letting a god wait—that's really disrespectful, you know.” Apollo has now invaded the Poseidon Cabin, legs crossed as he rests his chin on his palm.
“...Apollo.” Percy managed to say, voice hoarse, eyesight slowly getting accustomed to his surroundings, “Not now… Why are you here?”
Apollo stood up and instead sat on the bedside, tilting his head like a clueless puppy, “You lost, honey. Do you remember?”
Fuck, Percy mentally cursed, but right now, he can't exactly think straight—the rut's still overcoming his very thoughts. Every priority a human should be thinking of stopping being sexed up upon a surprise visit from someone—nothing, nada, as he groggily humps his hard-on on his crusty sheets.
Apollo shivered. The strong sea salt and sand are very, very heavy on the whole bedroom, but not only that—Percy's instincts are slowly taking over him, glaring at the other alpha in the room, very close to hissing and making an aggressive stance, yet is very visible that he's still half-asleep from passing out.
“Let me take care of you, Percy,” Apollo slowly reaches out to Percy, who is visibly trying to fight off his alpha instincts. Leaning on Apollo's hand as it reaches his face, he rubs on it, now hands reaching out to the god.
“Apollo. Need… need you,” Percy whined.
Apollo smiles and climbs on the bed. He removed Percy's clothes (he wondered how Percy managed to not die with his skinny jeans’ still on even after cumming too many times) and set them aside. Humming, he leaned his face on Percy's neck, moaning as the latter's scent was more amplified despite the air being heavily doused with it.
“What do you want, Percy? Say it to me.”
“Need—Fuck. Anything,” Percy pants. “...Omega. Need fill omega up. Pups. Apollo, I need an omega—”
“No,” Apollo glares, one hand on Percy’s neck. “I'm here. You do not need anyone else.”
“But—”
Apollo slowly traces his other free hand on Percy as he fixes himself in between the other's thighs. Kneeling, he spreads Percy's thighs open. “Will you trust me on this one?”
Percy simply nodded.
Apollo stops his movements. He patiently waits for an answer.
Percy almost whined but managed to stop and simply said, “Always.”
Nodding, he shifts Percy until he’s in between his thighs, maneuvering Percy as if he weighs nothing, yet the gentleness overpowers all.
Here and then, Percy’s alpha instincts subconsciously bubble up, fighting over another alpha dominating him. Apollo heeds it no mind, however.
Apollo smothers Percy with kisses, starting on his chest, teasingly pinching a nipple as he lightly bites the other. Percy is a mess; even with the lightest touches, all he can reply to Apollo is grunts and moans. Heeding it no mind, however, Apollo continued touching him until he reached Percy’s inner thighs.
Percy's legs were now both on each of his shoulders by now, as he continued nipping his inner thighs, appreciating the olive skin shining with sweat. Percy rests his hand on his golden locks as Apollo teases him, stroking his dick as he playfully licks his balls before returning to his shaft and swallowing it whole, the lack of gag reflex expected but still made him moan loudly.
It felt good, marvelous. Percy will never get tired of this, seeing, experiencing the god serving him, a mere demigod. Apollo's blowjobs are always so divine—he knew when to suck, swallow, and deepthroat that would drive Percy (his length is something to brag off, still!) over the edge in an instant.
If this was any other night, he would've gotten off. But Percy wants more, needs more than what Apollo's been doing. Grunting, scratching the scalp of the god in between his thighs, he was about to involuntarily thrust his hips, but Apollo immediately kept hold of it, as if he was expecting it.
“Patience, Perseus. As humans say: patience comes around for those who wait!”
“J–Just do it. Asshole.”
Apollo hummed, sending vibrations through his dick, earning a low moan from Percy, a plop sound as he stopped to talk, “Do what?”
“Fuck me,” Percy almost pleaded, but thankfully he didn’t. He was panting, almost over the edge, but was interrupted, and he silently hated himself for asking at the wrong time.
“Hm, I don’t know. It isn't exactly what I had in my mind.”
Percy was waiting for something, eyes closed shut as he's actually afraid of two things with his dick hard: first, coming undone seeing Apollo beneath him (which has happened before) and second, Apollo blue balling him (which has, thank gods, never happened before).
He felt seconds had passed, and he still didn't feel anything besides the rustling of the sheets under them, so he opened his mouth and was about to speak—when he heard a squelching sound alongside already existing ragged breaths reverberating throughout the whole, otherwise silent cabin.
He slowly opened his eyes to see what was going on.
Gods, it was Apollo, fingering himself on top of Percy. On his knees, Percy in between his perfectly chiseled thighs, two fingers up in his ass.
Percy almost forgot to breathe. Apollo simply grinned at him, continuing on fingering himself. “Like what you see?”
Percy was speechless. His throat felt drier than ever. Hearing Apollo speak in between his soft, sharp exhales as he moved his fingers inside, stretching himself, made Percy squeak as his attention was brought back.
Moreso, he doesn’t have the chance to speak as he feels something slowly enveloping his dick.
Holy Hades, Apollo starts sinking down his dick without further notice. Both moaned in unison, hissing on how big Percy felt inside him.
On the other hand, Percy almost came. He's been gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.
This is the first time, that's for sure; Apollo never let them have intercourse this way. Especially whenever the god had his ruts to deal with, it was always him on the receiving end. Now he understands why and maybe empathizes a bit.
This… was terribly heavenly. Maybe ruts are good. And addicting. Fuck.
“You see, I have been waiting for this,” Apollo breathlessly laughs as he catches his attention—finally reached the hilt, Percy's dick fully inside him. “The Hero of Olympus, Perseus Jackson’s first rut. It had been incredibly painful to wait for it to arrive, so; I didn't expect it to be one of my brother's children to actually trigger it. I must give him thanks for this later.”
Percy quite didn’t understand what the god had mentioned. It went filtered, and his rut and the shock made him unable to think. But he knew Apollo wouldn’t do something that trivial, not with what they’ve gone with all this time. “...You made them do it?” He already knows the answer, yet Percy felt his heartbeat stop. His sight blackened. Dude, he maybe is getting blue-balled after all.
“Oh, no. No, I didn't. I wouldn't exactly want to risk an omega, a mere omega, getting your first rut before me, no,” Apollo smiles, tracing his finger on Percy's cheek until it reaches his chin. “You know I despise sharing, more so if they were one of your own kind.”
He noticed Percy was expecting a specific answer, so he stilled, halting his grinding session. The man beneath him whimpered, his rut messing up with his priorities. “You know I wouldn’t do something so petty, Perseus.”
Percy knew, always knew, but he blames it on the rut anyway. “...OK.”
Apollo must have noticed his sigh of relief because he grinds once more, earning a moan from the son of Poseidon, “Going back, I'm beyond delighted! You will give it to me, won't you, cherry boy?”
Kinky bastard. Virginity fetish? Gods truly are something special. Percy internally spats, grinding back, grinning as he sees Apollo holding back a moan. Percy felt pride rousing up on that one.
The demigod tried to hold his hips, but Apollo immediately grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. “Can't do anything with you stopping me, y'know.”
Apollo ignored him, lifting his hips up until only the shaft remained inside, then slammed himself down. Hard. Apollo moaned and laughed once more, overshadowing Percy's as he felt fuller than ever, and continued doing slow, languid thrusts, fucking himself with the demigod's cock as the latter was forced to stay still and watch.
Percy can’t do shit, letting himself be used more than a fucktoy, yet he can’t stop being admired by the god above him, feeling himself being swallowed down by his blue eyes watching him intently. He felt the sun god's perfectly-built thighs quivering on him, tanned cock in full mast slapping his abs now and then, his hole sucking him further and further and tighter with every thrust, but it is still agonizingly slow.
“I want to prolong this as long as possible. It—unh—is hot, in its own way.” Apollo mentioned along the way, purposely missing his prostate, too.
Percy didn't exactly pay attention to the pulsating warnings of his still ongoing rut when it suddenly gave him alpha instincts to breed, knot, electrifying feelings throughout his body.
And the next thing he knew, he got Apollo under him as he brutally slammed his dick in and out, chasing his own high.
“Wait, Percy—ah—” Apollo's pitch went an octave higher as he moaned loudly, his prostate suddenly being abused right after his slow grinds on the demigod for, like, literally a minute ago. The sun god watches Percy’s dilated ones, feeling himself drowning as his own blue eyes are swallowed down by the blacks of the sea son.
His body was creating almost painfully painful friction on the sheets as Percy disregarded his comfort, even putting one leg on his shoulder so he can the god until the thigh touches the god’s chest, getting to an angle where he could reach deeper. Gripping Apollo's upper thighs, maneuvering to his hips from time to time to do the same thing—enough force would have left painful bruises on a mortal body, but Apollo's body this time was.
This night, Apollo let himself heal slowly to enjoy Percy’s first time and to make it for the alpha in rut feel mating with a human. Of course, it hurts; mortals do tend to be as weak as he knows they are, but seeing and experiencing Percy’s first time made him livid, so to speak. To know he claimed the son of the sea, to know he owns the son of the sea, to know he got to be Percy’s first time—these would get him centuries' worth of inspiration for his haikus.
The mix of the heavy pheromones between the sea and the sun wafts around the room, completely overwhelming for all secondary sexes alike. It was too intoxicating—perhaps fueling Percy's rut more, more so when he leaned to rest his face on Apollo's scent gland, allowing himself to focus solely on the god's pheromones.
By now, Apollo has his arms wrapped around Percy’s neck, sea salt, and sand pheromones all in focus. He listens through the chants of his name coming from Percy's lips like a symphony, as the thrusts start to be more uneven, more uncontrolled, the demigod nearing his climax, pants becoming more in numbers than the words—
“I love you—”
If anything, Apollo’s bruises, overly abused ass, and his untouched cock were all overwhelming, moreso when Percy claimed him as the son of the sea bit his nape, he could barely hear what Percy said—
But knowing what it was (which was a given) made his sight go white, entirely breathless, as he came untouched.
Percy hisses at the sudden tightness and is about to pull out when Apollo stops him, pulling him hard enough for his dick to keep grinding inside, “Hey—!” The raven-haired demigod wasn’t able to hold himself as he finally came, the blonde feeling spurts of cum painting inside his walls.
The alpha’s knot slowly gets bigger, locking itself in place. Apollo felt fuller, completely contented. Yet his body instinctively tries to pull away, thrashing around as it’s now Percy’s turn to pin him down in place. Percy, in turn, showers him with small kisses to try to calm him down.
There, they kept their positions as they waited for the knot to deflate.
Once Percy wakes up, he doesn’t feel any stickiness on his body or his sheets, yet his body feels sore. Apollo’s still sleeping, always the big spoon if he decides to stay after sex. Only thing Percy could and want to do for the moment is to nuzzle the god’s chest and appreciates the warmth enveloping him, making him fall asleep once more.