Chapter 1: one
Chapter Text
It's been building all evening, really.
Or for years, maybe, depending on how you look at it.
Percy prefers not to acknowledge that fact, for his peace of mind, unless he’s got a hand around himself and Nico’s 20th birthday in mind.
That almost night.
(Nico’s 19th before that. And his 18th before that. And maybe Nico just looks beautiful on his birthday, all dolled up for Will or whoever is lucky enough to be at his side. Maybe Percy has a tendency to stick too close to him, when that happens.
To reach, almost.)
It doesn’t really matter, now.
What does matter is the way Nico’s eyes have been following him, half-lidded glances from the other side of the room – and Percy is fully aware that he started it but it’s still unfair, how tempting Nico looks under the low lighting.
The amount of people there, the amount of noise would make it so easy to sneak away. Slip into a shadow together.
(Nico is not the type for big celebrations but they’d insisted, made him agree to meeting in a crowded club and pretend that he’d never drank alcohol. Pretend they hadn't seen him drink before.
He regrets that so much in this moment.)
And he should feel guilty, maybe. Should pull back while nothing is going on yet. This is exactly why he and Annabeth didn’t last, the wanting. Covering his mouth so she wouldn’t hear him jerking off to Nico in the shower, dreaming about having him and waking up so hard it’s painful.
(Wanting to hold him in the mornings, soft with sleep.
That was the worst part, maybe.
A momentary attraction to other people is just something you deal with.
Love, or anything like it, is unacceptable.)
Percy started this game and he’s losing it – lost it the moment he sat down on Nico’s other side and couldn’t help himself, sliding a hand on Nico’s slim thigh. Months and years of want guiding him forward. Lost, the moment Nico had looked at him, teasing, instead of pushing him away.
Lost, the moment Nico had showed up, stunning beyond belief.
They continue their game, passively, until they end up pressed at the same table again.
Too close for comfort, again.
There’s another guy on Nico’s other side, Mark or something plain like that, the latest in a long string of dates – “We’re not together,” Nico had said, “but I like him enough to invite him, I guess.”
Saying “I guess” nullified his point, in Percy’s humble opinion but no one asked him.
He reaches for Nico under the table again, gripping his thigh more firmly than he’d dared to before, and listening to the guy make a fool of himself by flirting badly. Nico closes his own hand over Percy’s, sliding it higher, glancing at him briefly even as he laughs at something Mark said.
“I’ll get us some more drinks.” whatshisname says, standing up and smiling in a way that he probably thinks is charming.
“Sure, thanks.” Percy says, just to remind him of his presence, even though he’s the designated driver tonight and has had exactly one drink since they got here.
There's a hickey on Nico's neck, barely visible, and it made Percy far more aggressive than he would've usually been, probably. The teasing certainly hasn't helped, just made his need to lay his own mark over it more intense.
Cover that pathetic attempt at a claim. As if Nico di Angelo could ever belong to anyone but himself.
(Anyone but Percy, he wants to say. But that would only be a lie.)
The son of Hades doesn’t waste any time. As soon as the guy has disappeared in the crowd he turns to Percy, grabbing his hand and tugging it to his crotch – and Percy feels it, the bulge there. The way Nico’s hips roll into his hand, subtle enough to be undetected by anyone else. The naked heat in his dark eyes, gleaming under the lights.
It’s enough to make him lose his mind.
“Find us a way out,” he says, “Now.”
Leo and Jason will have to find their own way home, just for tonight.
Nico all but drags him into the nearest shadow, uncaring of the couple that’s going at it against the wall and what they might see.
Percy doesn’t recognise the bedroom they step into but he doesn’t look at it for too long either, pulling Nico to him in a bruising kiss. They fall on the bed together and Percy gives in to everything he’s always wanted – hurriedly undressing Nico, biting at the pale skin of his thighs as he tugs those tight jeans down his legs, tugging his own shirt over his head while Nico mouths at the bulge in his pants.
He hasn't drunk a drop of alcohol in hours and yet it feels like being intoxicated, focusing on everything and nothing all at once – Nico's pale skin, the dusty pink of his nipples, the sounds he makes when Percy sucks at the skin there. The arch of his neck, already littered with bruises.
It's his lips, plump and wet and inviting, that catch the son of Poseidon's attention, at last.
The stretch of Nico's mouth around Percy’s fingers is divine, the way his eyes look up at him, cheeks cherry red.
“I wanted this,” Percy groans, trying to get his pants off even as he keeps fucking Nico’s mouth with his fingers, “For so long.”
Nico moans something, swirling his tongue around them, already wrecked – like a wet dream, better than.
The urge to mark is still there and he steps back, stepping out of the last of his clothes quickly, grabbing Nico’s thin hips and pushing him to lay down.
“Fuck...” Nico pants, mouth wide open, spread out like a feast in front of him, “Percy.”
Saliva collects in his mouth – he spits, right on him, dribbling down Nico’s pretty, flushed cock and Nico moans at that, spreading his legs.
“Slut.” Percy says and it gets him another whine, “Jesus, you are one, aren’t you?”
Nico nods, desperate, and deliberately brings one of his hands down to pump himself – thin, elegant fingers closing around his length with an obscene sound – just once, collecting the spit there, before trailing further down to rub at his hole.
“Did you do this?” He asks, rubbing his cock hard and fast, kneeling above him, fixated on the movement of Nico’s fingers, “Fuck yourself and think about me?”
“Yeah- ah.” Nico moans, looking up at him hungrily, “Hm... in my cabin.”
“Shit.” Percy says because the image is almost too much, “Show me how you did it, baby, c’mon.”
And Nico obeys, arches his back as the first finger slides in – and it’s a little too dry, Percy can tell, so he spits again, lower, letting it slide between his cheeks.
The son of Hades responds with a desperate sound – looking for all the world as if he might come at any moment and Percy understands that a bit too much – fucking himself with his own fingers, trembling as he stares up at Percy’s cock.
“Fucking hell. Pretty thing, aren’t you?” Percy grits out, staring at the tight hole in front of him.
“Yeah- yes,” Nico groans, looking up at him with teary eyes, jerking himself off with his free hand.
“I want you to come like this, make yourself come like the slut you are,” he has no idea where this is coming from, has never felt the urge to say anything like it before but it's instinctive now, rolling off his tongue smoothly, “Fucking come for me, Nico.”
And Nico does – his eyes roll up, back arching high, mouth falling open. It’s magnificent and Percy’s cock throbs, as Nico covers himself with cum, clenching around his own fingers.
The son of Poseidon doesn’t wait for him to come down, shuffling closer, working himself faster.
“On me,” Nico says and his voice is wrecked, “Cum on me.”
He spreads his thighs wider, inviting, and Percy cannot believe what’s happening, still. Can’t think past the pleasure, the need to mark Nico in any way possible.
“Fuck,” Percy says, teetering on the edge, “Yeah- fuck, yeah, gonna cum on you, baby. Pretty fucking whore.”
Nico looks up at him with dazed eyes, panting, utterly beautiful and his.
It’s enough.
Percy comes, all at once, groaning as his come lands on Nico’s taut stomach, covers Nico's spent dick, adding to the mess.
He stays there, in the aftermath, trying to wrap his head around what just happened – and Nico sits up, licking gently at his softening cock, letting it drag against his cheek and on his lips.
“Clean it up,” Percy pants, tugging him closer by the hair, “Lick it off, baby.”
He shivers, sensitive, but encourages Nico to go on, still, slides his soft cock in that warm mouth and keeps it there for a long moment, only pulling back to change position, sitting down properly – hauling Nico up and reaching for the tissues on the side table to wipe most of the mess on his stomach.
There’s a long moment of silence as they pull themselves together and Percy starts feeling awkward.
Gods, he should probably apologise, the things he’d said-
“You should’ve fucked my face,” the son of Hades says and Percy can’t believe that’s the first proper sentence he’s spoken since they started, “You should do it next time. Make me choke on your dick.”
“I- what.”
Nico looks at him, still naked and kind of covered with Percy's come, and says, “Fuck my face, next time. I want you to kneel above me and fuck my mouth like it’s a cunt.”
Percy sputters, bewildered, even as his dick gives a valiant twitch.
Nico raises an eyebrow.
“Are you not interested?”
“Didn’t think that would be something... you’d want.” You or anyone, really, Percy doesn’t say.
“I’ve had a crush on you since I was ten years old. What I want, is for you to use me like a fleshlight.”
Percy has been called an idiot a lot of times in his life. He's still not quite stupid enough to refuse the offer.
(The implication of a next time has his heart beating loudly in his chest.
Next time.
One more chance to pretend Nico is his, to have and to hold.
Percy wouldn't give that up for anything.)
Chapter 2: two
Summary:
there's a clock in the back of percy's head - counting down the seconds they've got left together.
Notes:
jesus help me they live in my head rent free.
rn i dont think i could make it more obvious how much percy YEARNS in this fic but i already know it will happen bc he is truly Gone. also this is a completely different story from nico's pov btw its so fun ill have to see if i can put it into words correctly or if i have to stick to percy's.
(once again if we're friends and youre reading my nsfw stuff: what is wrong with you. leave.)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nico lays his head on his thighs, ass up in the air, shameless.
“Want to fuck your mouth,” Percy says, “Would you like that, hm?”
Nico doesn’t answer but he mouths at the bulge in his sweatpants and trails eager fingers over Percy’s abs, so Percy will take it as a yes.
He lifts his hips, sliding off pants and underwear both, tapping Nico’s lips and smearing pre cum over them.
“Suck, baby.”
Nico kisses the tip slowly, runs his tongue down the length, moaning when he first takes it in his mouth.
Percy spreads his legs, leaning back and observing him for a long moment as Nico hollows his cheeks, sloppy, and it might be the hottest thing he’s ever seen – the powerful son of Hades drooling over Percy’s cock, humping the mattress.
He grabs those pretty curls with a hand, forcing Nico’s head down, thrusting up in that wet heat and making him gag around it.
“Fucking choke on it.”
Percy drags Nico’s mouth up and down, slow, looks into his wide, dark eyes as he does – teary, fuck, and half lidded.
He lets him go, for a moment, sliding out and tapping him again. He mentally takes a note of the image it makes, his dick against Nico’s flushed face, for later reference.
“Fuck my face,” Nico says, moving to kneel on the floor in front of him, “C’mon, daddy.”
His dick twitches and Percy didn’t even know that was a thing he was into – didn’t know a lot of things he was into until he and Nico started whatever they’re doing, really.
“Want your cock, daddy,” Nico says again, kissing his thighs softly, “Fill me up.”
Percy doesn’t make him ask again, fisting both of his hands in Nico’s curls and standing up, dragging him with and setting a harsh rhythm – “Fuck my mouth like it’s a cunt.” Nico had said that first night. Well, Percy is definitely delivering, thrusting hard and fast, Nico’s eyes hazy with pleasure as he drools around his cock with a muffled moan.
“Fuck, fuck, there it is- you wanted this, didn’t you?” he pants and Nico’s eyes snap up to meet his, “Crying on my cock, fuck, suck, slut.”
Another muffled moan, he can just barely see Nico’s own dick, flushed and dripping steadily on the carpet.
“How long have you wanted it? Should’ve dragged you off after Gaea and popped your cherry myself. Would you have liked that, baby?”
He pulls out, letting him breathe.
“Yes,” Nico chokes out, reaching down to rub at his own length, “Should’ve fucked me first, daddy.”
Percy pulls him back on his cock, groaning.
“Don’t swallow,” he moans, meeting Nico’s dark eyes, “I want to see it on your tongue.”
The son of Hades closes his eyes, gagging around him – tears run down his cheeks and it’s too much.
Percy comes with a shout, filling his mouth with cum, and falls back against the couch, panting. Nico kneels in front of him still, opening his mouth to show the white on his tongue, and Percy takes pity on him, tugging him in his lap and guiding him to hump his thigh.
He collects his cum – drooling out of Nico’s mouth – and wraps his hand around the son Hades’ cock.
“Ah- Daddy, please,” Nico moans, grinding on his thigh, his dick throbbing in Percy’s hand. Come smeared over his pretty face and he can’t resist, pulling him in a filthy kiss, lapping up the mess.
“Come on, pretty baby.”
Percy ducks his head to suck at Nico’s neck, still jerking him off slowly, biting and sucking at the skin there.
“Come for daddy,” he smirks, amused.
The effect is instantaneous – Nico locks up, trembling, mouth open around an obscene moan, cock spilling over Percy’s fingers and thigh, smearing over his abs. Nico’s claim, he thinks, and it’s almost enough to get him hard again.
Then again, the way Nico comes is fucking stunning to see and Percy would be lying if he said he didn’t already want to keep going, tie him to the bed and keep him there.
“Not a word,” the son of Hades pants after, open mouthed, falling forward to rest his head on Percy’s shoulder.
“Oh, come on-“ Percy shakes with laughter.
“I didn’t mention the slut thing, you can’t talk about this.”
“That’s because you are a slut,” Percy says, palming Nico’s ass, “And you like it.”
Nico bites his shoulder, making a disgruntled noise.
“And you like being called daddy just as much as I like saying it. Really, who should be more ashamed here?” He asks, pushing back against Percy’s hands, looking up at him with a smug smile.
“Fair,” Percy sighs, “That’s fair.”
Nico laughs, naked against him, and Percy groans, suppressing a smile of his own.
He throws him off, watching him bounce on the bed, and stands up, faking offense even as he can’t help but ogle Nico appreciatively – the new addition of a snake winding around his left leg, stark against the pale skin, tail curling by his ankle and hissing on his thigh.
“A spontaneous decision.”
“It takes up your whole leg, Nico. You can’t say that’s spontaneous.”
“Not the tattoo itself, the snake. I got there with no idea of what I wanted and it seemed cliché and scary enough.”
Percy has never once thought it scary. It is, however, outrageously attractive with those black scales fading into a deep red, the yellow of its eyes. He so badly wants a picture of what it looks like, when Nico wraps his legs around Percy’s hips. Pale skin and red-black scales against Percy’s tan.
A reminder of what it looked like, for after.
They’ve only been doing this, whatever it is, for a couple weeks and Percy knows he’ll get hurt, inevitably. He’s used to it, already. Mornings and afternoons and nights – moving gently against each other or fucking fast and hard against the wall or simply existing in the same space.
Unhurried mornings together, Nico’s hair tickling his nose as he wakes. The smell of coffee lingering in the air even after the front door has shut behind him.
The ache that comes with leaving.
It’s going to hurt.
Percy keeps on going forward anyway. Greedy.
(He’ll take Nico any way he can get him. Will sink his teeth in that soft skin and fist his dark hair and suck on his plump lips. Leave marks of his presence, fleeting as it may be.
This one belonged to me, first, to anyone who’ll come after. I had him first.)
Nico yawns, arching his back, still laying on the white sheets – beauty itself, as far as Percy is concerned. From the scar across his right cheekbone to the faded ones marring his hips down to his toes.
“Breakfast?” The son of Hades asks, rolling off the bed and walking towards the bathroom, still naked, “After we clean up.” He adds, frowning.
Percy snorts, grabbing their discarded underwear and pants and following him.
“For someone who loves when I come over him, you sure like to act disgusted after.”
“Oh, fuck off. No one likes dried cum, Jackson.”
“Dunno about that,” he says, stepping in the tiny bathroom and leaving the dirty clothes in the hamper by the door, “Might be someone’s kink, you never know.”
“Not mine!” Nico states firmly, already in the shower and probably under freezing cold water because he’s too impatient to wait a couple second to let it turn warm.
Percy looks at him – water rushing down his skin, head thrown back, curls plastered to his forehead – and feels himself smile even as he shivers lightly at the sensation it evokes, the weird feeling of touching Nico without it actually happening.
Wordlessly, he steps inside with him, laughing as Nico whines about them not fitting, about being squashed – and stops talking altogether when Percy’s hardened cock rubs against him, looking up at him from under his eyelashes with naked want in his dark eyes, lips parted around words that won't come out.
Percy leans down to kiss him, caging him in, and forgets about the ticking clock in the back of his head – enjoying what he has for the moment, worshipping what he’ll never truly have.
He hopes the memories are enough, when the time comes.
Notes:
nico has a daddy kink and i wont hear any criticism (percy just likes everything nico does)
Chapter 3: three
Summary:
He wonders if their teenage years have fucked that up, too. If mortals have better coping mechanisms.
If they adapt to being adults better than demigods do.
Notes:
no smut this time, ive missed my boys!! uni is kicking my ass and it probably will for the rest of the year (might be going on an archeological excavation with my professor tho how fucking exciting is that????) but i wanted to write them again so badly so here's a lil chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It’s not often that Percy’s not up to the more sexual nature of his new relationship with Nico – not often that he comes home so defeated the only thing he wants is what he cannot have, to fall in his arms and be comforted and be loved.
Today just so happens to be one of those days.
Nico steps out of his bedroom, wearing comfortable clothes and already reaching for him and Percy just. Can’t. His feet brought him here without his consent and the weight on his shoulders feels like it’s gonna crush him any moment.
“Sorry,” he says and winces at how rough his voice is, “Not in the mood today.”
Nico doesn’t step back, doesn’t move away – it makes Percy frustrated, almost, until Nico’s arms wrap around his waist, until the son of Hades presses a soft kiss against his shoulder. Chaste and sweet and brief.
He relaxes immediately, rests his head against Nico’s and listens to him hum soothingly.
“Wanna have dinner?” Nico asks and it feels like he’s the only thing holding Percy up.
It’s weird, after so many years where Percy had thought of himself as a sort of protector and of Nico as the kid in need of that protection.
They’re grown up now and the roles have shifted – shift every day, really. He wonders if their teenage years have fucked that up, too.
If mortals have better coping mechanisms. If they adapt to being adults better than demigods do.
(If they all feel like they’re drowning, some days.
Like they’re too tall kids being left unsupervised for the first time and told to take care of a million different things at once.)
“Yeah,” Percy says after a moment, “Sorry.”
“For what? Don’t be dumb, Jackson. Is Chinese okay?”
“Thought you’d go for McDonald’s.”
Nico sighs, stepping away and frowning at him even as his dark eyes fill with mirth.
“You use fast food to summon ghosts one time.“ He huffs, walking away.
He turns at the last moment, leaning against the kitchen door and raising one eyebrow – haloed by the setting sun, a smirk pulling at his lips.
Percy follows, suddely lighter.
It’s a nice night, a nice break from everything that’s been pushing and weighting on him – the fact that he can’t seem to hold onto a job that isn’t in New Rome or at Camp, that making connections with mortals is hard when you can’t even tell them where you live.
Because, of course, he couldn’t put Estelle at risk by staying with his mother (didn’t want to, either) and it only made sense to live close to work.
(He misses New York, more than anything. Misses home and family and loathes the empty apartment he returns to every day).
Being here, in the space Nico carved out for himself, helps. There are warm lights and soft cushions and Nico, above all.
Bickering over the food and who should get to pick a movie (Percy wins, though maybe Nico doesn't fight quite as hard as he usually would've, puts on How To Train Your Dragon with a triumphant smirk and Nico grumbles but says nothing because he’s still a nerd at heart and dragons), the way the son of Hades scowls at him when Percy makes fun of the fact that he can’t use chopsticks to save his life – “Haven’t you been to China a lot, by now?”
“Oh, so what? You think whenever I popped out of nowhere in someone’s house they offered me food?”
“Well, alright, but surely-“
“No, no, I want you to tell me exactly what you think those people did when a skinny white boy emerged from the shadows in their living room.”
Percy cracks up all over again at the steely look in Nico’s eyes.
“You got the cops called on you?”
“No shit.”
By the time they’re in bed, moonlight entering through the open window and turning all those sharp edges in his brain sleep soft, the weight has slid off his shoulders and Percy is left wondering what it means, that Nico didn’t ask, didn’t tell him to get lost despite the change in their usual routine.
“Stop thinking.” The son of Hades mutters, face half buried in his pillow. He's not much more than a dark shape and, still, Percy's heart skips a beat.
“Sorry,” Percy smiles, “And thanks for tonight.”
“Shut up. Of course.”
He forgot, once again, lost himself in everything that was going on around him and forgot who Nico di Angelo is – he wraps one arm around his waist, lets himself indulge and drop a kiss on those dark curls.
Of course.
What else had he expected, from Nico?
Just this once, he's not haunted by all the things he can't have.
Percy sleeps easy, that night.
Notes:
can u see me struggling with being an adult in here.
i just think its a neat concept to explore with them tbh. especially since i spent most of my teenage years crashing on ppl's couches and running away from home at every chance without actually truly leaving and still i wish i could go back to that bc being Older doesn't make the pressure stop, it just adds more and more things on top of it - sometimes good, sometimes not.
it's good to be alive but its hard too and i imagine it would be so much harder for demigods so it'll probably feature in some ways in the next chapters (only a bit! but u should be used to those little hints of it if you've read my other fics).
anyway, thank you for reading, im sorry for the long wait!
Chapter 4: four
Summary:
Kissing him softly – slow and deep. Worshipful. Out of everything they’ve done, this feels absurdly like giving himself away.
Notes:
percy unknowingly fucking himself over with his dumb assumptions but also not really thinking about it bc he's Very Busy fucking nico is my roman empire
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
For all that Percy’s wanted him for years, that he’s hoped even as he stalled his hand and put a respectable amount of space between the two of them, no fantasy could’ve prepared him for the feeling of actually having Nico.
The need that grows stronger each time instead of abating – the way Percy looks for him, now, almost every day, and is in a foul fucking mood whenever their schedules don’t align.
He’d really fooled himself, this past week. Running and running and ignoring calls and making excuses and thinking, I’ve got this. I’m over this.
Today has proved that he could never be over it.
Nothing exists but Nico, spread out underneath him. Meeting him thrust for thrust – wide, teary eyes hazy with pleasure, pink lips shiny with spit. Moaning and whining loudly, unashamed.
“Fuck. Fuck, baby...” Percy groans, closer to the edge than he’d like to be, “Touch yourself for me... come on...”
He watches, more turned on than he’s ever been, as a pale, delicate hand reaches between them. Nico strokes himself quickly, roughly, and the sight of his pretty, flushed cock between thin, elegant fingers makes Percy’s mouth water.
“Per-Percy... ah, please-“ Nico whines, the slightest bit of drool leaking from the side of his swollen lips, and Percy can’t help himself – leaning down to kiss him, licking up the mess.
Just as his lover goes still, every muscle tightening, and spills between them with a shout – hole clenching around Percy’s cock, hot and wet and perfect.
It only takes him a couple more thrusts – Nico staring dazedly up at him with big, dark eyes – for Percy to follow him over the edge, coming inside of him with a groan. There’s a satisfied thrum under his skin, mine mine mine, and he doesn’t bother silencing it, basking in the lie for one glorious moment.
He lets himself fall, leaning on Nico for a moment, leaving a kisses on the fair skin of his neck. Slowly, gently, he eases his softened cock out.
“Percy,” Nico pants, “Oh.”
He looks down, between the son of Hades’ thighs – and gulps, mouth suddenly dry, at the sight of his come spilling out of Nico’s hole.
“Shit.” Percy says, bringing his gaze up to meet wide brown eyes – still clouded in pleasure, half lidded and beautiful.
“Shit, baby. You like that?” and his voice is still rough, still hungry. He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop being hungry for Nico, though, so maybe that’s a permanent thing now.
He doesn’t wait for a response, gently easing Nico’s legs down from where they’d been hiked up around his hips, kissing him softly. The way he likes to be kissed, the way he deserves to be kissed – slow and deep. Worshipful. Out of everything they’ve done, this feels absurdly like giving himself away.
“C’mon. Let’s go clean up, hm?”
“I don’t need you to baby me, Jackson.”
Percy laughs, stepping away, warmth curling in his chest.
“Oh, is the bliss already over? And you were being so agreeable.”
He reaches down to grab one of their shirts – to wipe down the worst of it, even as a part of him begs to keep Nico filled a bit more. Just to really burn the image in his mind – mine mine mine.
“Percy,” Nico calls, looking up at him from where he’s still sprawled over the wooden desk in Percy’s childhood bedroom, giving no sign that he’s going to move any time soon, “Again.”
“What- again?”
There’s no way he heard that right.
Nico sits up on his elbows, letting pale thighs spread open – showing off his pink, leaking hole and pretty cock.
“Again, please.”
Notes:
this fic is my guilty pleasure
percico is deeply madly in love but also so so good at ignoring how much they Act Like Theyre In Love and it drives me crazy
(might be about to put uni on pause to go back to work for a bit so the next chapter is either gonna be Heavy or Completely Mindless like this)
Chapter 5: five - nico
Summary:
here, in this moment that we have created, we have all the time in the world.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“How do you do it?” Percy asks one morning and Nico stops, where he’d been pouring coffee in espresso cups.
It should take him time, maybe, to answer. To even know what to answer to such an open ended question.
But it doesn’t take him time, doesn’t take anything more than an instant to understand.
Their new relationship – if this constant push and pull that they do can even be called that – has only made him more receptive, more tuned into Percy Jackson. As if Nico hadn’t spent most of his teenage years constantly looking for him, begging for scraps of attention.
Whatever it is they’re doing, and Nico has avoided thinking about it as much as possible, it’s only made things worse, in that regard.
He sighs, pouring the last of the coffee in the baby blue cup that has become Percy's cup and setting down the moka.
“Most days,” he says, taking a seat with Percy at the tiny kitchen table and staring out of the window into the grey sky, “I don’t really know. I mean, you know how I spent my teenage years. They were awful. And, still, I sometimes wish to go back to that or to some idealised version of it, at least. Go back to running.”
Percy looks at him, the way a younger version of Nico used to wish for, and he hands him the sugar, motioning to his own cup.
It’s been a long time coming, this conversation.
It’s no secret, at least not to Nico, that Percy has been struggling with adult life more than anyone would think. And with Sally moving from his childhood home, it has all come back to hurt him.
One last trip to clean up his childhood bedroom, leaving an empty apartment – Percy’s, if he so wishes, but he’s been struggling to make a decision and time’s ticking.
“Some days,” Nico adds, “I haven’t made it. Or it doesn’t feel like it. Some days, I really think I had it right, when all I wanted was for it to stop, in any way I could.”
“Did you, really?”
There’s an old fear in Percy’s voice – the kind that comes from running after a young boy, alone in the world, maybe.
It’s sweet. It makes him smile.
“Yeah. But other days I wake up and... And the sun’s shining just right through my horribly cramped kitchen. And I make coffee and sit by the window and the smell of freshly made cookies comes from the bakery nearby. And I’m glad it didn’t end when I thought it would. I’m glad I didn’t manage to die, back when I believed I wouldn’t live this long.”
Percy reaches over the table to grasp at his hand, eyes wide and earnest and open like they haven’t been in weeks.
Nico reaches back, as is customary these days.
The silence is comfortable and homey and, slowly, a few fragile sun rays break through the grey clouds.
“Me,” Nico laughs that night over dinner, sprawled out on the couch with a bottle of wine and weird american pizza between them, “Giving life advice!”
“Yes, yes, your maturity is truly impressive.” Percy snorts, reaching for another slice.
“Say all that you want but I’m not the one with sauce dripping down my shirt.”
“Wha- Gods, this is my good shirt!”
He laughs again.
It doesn’t feel right, after that morning, to whisper filth and manhandle one another into bed.
So they compensate with laughter, giggling quietly as they fall together and moving gently, slowly – here, in this moment that we have created, we have all the time in the world, it seems to say. Nico doesn’t know if it’s true, if it applies to them, if it’s just his own childhood wish rearing its head. But he lets himself believe, just for a night.
There’s a moment, when Percy’s panting in his ear, placing reverent kisses on his skin, where Nico finds himself looking up at the ceiling, tears brimming in his eyes and think, today, I’m glad.
He tugs him up for a kiss, moaning quietly and feeling Percy’s answering smile against his lips.
Today, I’m glad.
Time continues to pass.
Notes:
the only reason i posted this is because i told myself i would post if italy won lol
but yeah, hope u liked it, this is truly an important chapter for me. its setting the scene for a bigger plot and also giving someone context to chapter four (that happened in percy's childhood bedroom!!). also its just another glimpse in the whole 'demigod but also adult' thing i mentioned. so yeah, ty for reading, hope u enjoyed it!!
Chapter 6: six
Summary:
It's so, so easy to make themselves into more.
As natural as breathing.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It takes them weeks to get back to the usual rhythm and they never quite manage to go back to before – when Percy would pop in unexpectedly and fuck Nico into the mattress before spending the rest of the day thinking about all he doesn’t get to have.
So, secretly, Percy is glad.
Halfway through the second week, when he started sleeping every night at Nico's small apartment, Hazel had called unexpectedly and found them in bed together which means that the rest of their friend group was also immediately informed about the two of them.
Grover and Jason, who are perfectly aware of Percy's pining and have been since Nico's 19th birthday, don't approve and have said so repeatedly. But even they had to relent in the face of how much better Percy is, since they started this whole thing.
Having Nico, in any way, makes him happier but having him like he does now – close enough for an almost hope to spring up in his chest, a friend and lover and staunch supporter. Someone to share meals with and a safe place to land when he inevitably gets fired from the jobs he stubbornly insists on trying outside of both camps, when his mother feels far away and the guilt over both wars crushes him.
And, in turn, Percy is the one to dry Nico's tears after nightmares and hold him through the nights and listen to his frustrated yells after a meeting with Hades.
It's so, so easy to make themselves into more. Turn mindless fucking into comfort.
Looking back, it's been happening for a while. As natural as breathing.
He lets himself smile against Nico's hair, sliding his hand down slowly, encouraging him to rut against his thigh – kissing him softly where he rests against his shoulder.
Just to see him wake, blinking up at him with sleepy eyes, getting darker by the moment.
“Good morning,” Percy rasps.
“Morning.” Nico hums and pulls him into a kiss, hips picking up speed, making the softest sounds against Percy's lips.
He smiles, just as intoxicated as that first night.
An unfortunate side effect of their friends knowing is Annabeth also knowing. And it shouldn't be unfortunate, maybe, but Annabeth has been his best friend for so long.
Years.
And, for just as long, what had seemed like the entire world had pushed them together.
The breakup was amicable but it was also six months ago. Against more than a decade of friendship and a relationship almost as long – is it surprising that she might not approve?
Is it surprising that she might know just how far his infatuation went, even back then?
In the end, their lives just weren't compatible anymore. That's a mature, sensible thing to break up about.
(Before the end, he'd used to bite down on his arm and thrust in his fist, imagining pale legs spread in front of him like a feast. A warm mouth closing over his length. A fistful of black locks.)
Percy has a lot to feel guilty for.
“I need your honesty,” Annabeth says over coffee, in an apartment Percy only ever visits to pick up clean clothes these days, “I think I'm owed that.”
He swallows, clutching his own cup – weird, how huge it feels in his hands now that he's gotten used to Nico's italian ones – and nods.
Annabeth takes a deep breath.
“Did you love him, with me?” she trails off, “Were you already-”
“No!” Percy interrupts, “No, no, gods, no.”
She looks reassured and he feels like shit for what's going to follow but. More than a decade of friendship, a relationship almost as long as that.
After everything, she does deserve honesty.
If only because Percy himself wants to give her that – no one is owed anything unless you care for them, unless you choose to put yourself in their shoes and love them enough to say, yes, yes I will give you this because you need it and I want to give it to you.
That's another harsh thing about life, Percy knows. That someone you've given everything to, might one day choose to look at you and decide you don't deserve the same. And you won't get to do anything about it because, in this awful, ever changing world, no one is owed a damn thing.
He won't do that to Annabeth. Can't.
“I thought of him,” he admits at last, “More than I can say.”
Annabeth nods, sipping slowly.
“I'm not mad at you,” she says after a moment, “I think we were over before we even knew. I'm not mad. But I do need time. I'm. Hurt, a bit.”
He goes to reassure her, to say- what can he say, to make this better? He doesn't think there's an answer to that.
She holds up a hand to stop him.
“It's hypocritical of me, after everything with Piper. But it's there and I'll need time.”
Everything with Piper is a nice way to put it.
Still, she'd started seeing Piper a couple weeks after their break up but admitted to not loving her for a while – just last week, she'd said she could love her but still wasn't quite there.
Percy hadn't been hurt. Confused, for sure, but not hurt. Then again, he's never doubted that he alone held her attention during their relationship.
Annabeth's facing the knowledge that it hadn't been just her, not for a while.
They finish their drinks in silence and part ways shortly after.
He wonders if Annabeth knew he'd run to Nico, as soon as she left. Shame curls in his chest.
“Stop thinking so loud,” the man in his arms groans, “I'm trying to follow the movie.”
Helplessly, Percy smiles.
Forgive me, he thinks, unknowing and uncaring of who it's meant for, but this is all I've ever wanted.
Notes:
just a bit of plot this time. this fic is honestly my least demanding wip simply bc i just throw whatever i feel like at it lol. no plot just vibes. hope you enjoyed all the same, thank you for reading!
Chapter 7: seven
Summary:
(Mine mine mine.
He gives himself to me.)
Notes:
this one starts with smut so be careful if you want to avoid it - go to the very end.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He bites down on Nico's shoulder, trying desperately to still his hips. Sitting primly above his lap, cock dragging against his own, the son of Hades laughs, almost mocking.
“You can resist a bit more, no?”
“Fuck,” He swears, “If you don't hurry up, so help me, Nico-”
He laughs again, the absolute bastard. Percy can't even pretend to be genuinely mad – Nico is far too pretty, far too enticing, when he gets in these moods. Dragging it out for hours, refusing any requests to move until he's had his fun.
It's both magnificent and utterly torturous.
Nico rolls his hips again, one hand holding onto Percy's shoulder while he fingers himself open with the other, gasping and moaning.
Percy has to steel himself so he won't come just at the sight of him.
“Nico,” he groans, “Let me fuck you, baby, come on.”
Their cocks drag together again, slick with pre, and he jerks, pleasure and frustration battling inside him.
“Please.”
It's the magic word. Nico rises on his knees, taking hold of Percy's dick and stroking him a couple times – moaning long and loud as he lowers himself, carefully at first, then all at once.
Percy's hands move on their own, grabbing his hips, pushing him down to take more, intoxicated by the feeling.
“Tight,” He hisses, thrusting up into that wet heat, “So fucking tight.”
“Ah- yeah? Do I feel good around your cock, daddy?” Nico laughs, that same mocking edge to his words.
He's riding him in earnest, now, sweaty and beautiful, the tattoo on his leg flexing and flashing with his movements – eyes clouded in pleasure, pink lips wet with spit.
Percy drags him into a kiss, biting messily at his lower lip, trying to match his urgency.
It's a difficult angle to work with but he doesn't even think about rolling them over. Nico would just start back from the beginning, cruel as he can be when he gets like this.
“Fuck me, daddy,” Nico's nails leave indents on his shoulders, “Harder.”
It's almost too much.
Percy thrusts upwards, violent, blinded by pleasure and the need to hear him scream, to feel him clench around him.
The noises are obscene, squelching and fast, so loud that he's sure the neighbours will complain – and he doesn't care, not right now.
“Come,” He groans, “Fucking come, Nico.”
“Yeah-yeah... I'm-” Nico cuts himself off, breathless, eyes filled with tears as his cock drools precum on Percy's abs, whining with every thrust, “So good- so good, Percy.”
Something desperate rears up its head at the words, a kind of pleasure that is all in giving and wanting to do it more.
His nails are dragging down Percy's chest, now, leaving deep red marks, only adding to the almost suffocating pleasure.
It takes one last well placed thrust for Nico to fall over the edge – almost screaming as Percy all but forces him down his cock, back arching, streaks of come hitting both of their chests.
In the aftermath, he tries to still himself, to give his lover time to recover. As if he doesn't know better.
“Keep going,” Nico rasps, falling against his chest, and sucking at the sensitive skin of his neck, “Use me, daddy, come on.”
Percy doesn't protest, picking up the pace once again, guiding him the entire time, well aware that Nico won't be able to ride him by himself anymore.
Not that he's complaining, it's hot – using Nico like a doll and pushing him on his cock, hearing his overwhelmed moans, hole fluttering around Percy's dick.
“Inside,” Nico whines, “Fill me up.”
He's more than familiar with the image that comes to mind – Percy's come dripping slowly down Nico's pale legs, leaving him full.
“Fuck, fuck, baby, yeah. Take it for me, Nico.”
It's still enough to have him thrusts erratically, coming in long spurts inside his lover, a shout falling from his lips.
“Good boy,” Percy groans, spent, “Such a good slut, just for me.”
Nico whimpers, biting down, milking him dry.
Percy's cock softens, still inside him, and come starts dripping down between them. Without hesitation, he pushes two fingers inside Nico, keeping him filled for longer – a kind of claim that makes his head spin.
(Mine mine mine.
He gives himself to me.)
“Fuck, we should do this every day,” Nico squirms, grinding back against his fingers.
“Fine by me.”
“Sure it is, you've only been too tired to even get it up lately.”
Percy groans, pinching his thigh to make him get off his lap and grabbing the wet wipes they keep on the nightstand for this exact reason.
Nico ignores him, making his way to the bathroom.
“Sorry about that.” Percy raises his voice to be heard over the running water.
The sound stops, abrupt.
Nico pokes his head back out – dripping water on the floor in the way he absolutely despises and has called Percy out on a lot of times.
“For what? I'm concerned, not mad.”
“Oh.”
“Why would I be mad?” He looks confused, brows furrowing, “I was just worried- Mark said it could've been something with your family.”
Percy shakes his head, reassuring him that it isn't and yes, mom's fine and so are Paul and the tiny creature they're living with.
He hadn't noticed Nico caring this much before.
“Who's Mark?”
“What- you know Mark, he was at my birthday.”
The water turns back on, drowning the outraged noise that comes out of Percy's mouth.
Fucking Mark.
Notes:
we're slooowly working our way up to a bit of plot to get to the end, this can't go on forever with just them fucking and cuddling after all. thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!!
Chapter 8: eight
Summary:
Since his birthday, they've been living in each other's pockets. And Percy was so caught up in wanting that he didn't even see he had.
How long has he been running?
Chapter Text
“You're still seeing Mark?”
Nico stops, frowning, the knife he's holding just barely grazing the carrots he'd been chopping.
He looks at Percy, lips pressed in a thin line.
“He's my friend. Of course I am.”
Percy feels like laughing, just a bit, over the jealousy that's currently making a home in his bones – digging deep and curling around the very marrow.
“Your friend,” He repeats, disbelieving, “I didn't know you had those.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
The room feels cooler now. Percy eyes the closed window and the simmering pot on the stove and thinks about backing down, about keeping on with their night without acknowledging the elephant in the room.
But he's never been good about backing down, has he?
(The thing in his chest, the one that tells him to keep in any way he's allowed to – it won't let him drop it.
He doesn't put up much of a fight, either.)
“Nothing,” He says, mindlessly stirring their dinner, “Just... normal friends, huh?”
“And what is that supposed to mean, now?” Nico hisses, sounding just a second away from fury.
Neither of them has ever been very good at keeping their temper in check.
Blame the godly side.
“I wasn't aware you had friends you didn't fuck, that's all.”
He's aware he fucked up the moment it comes out of his mouth – Percy's already trying to find a solution, mouth open in horror and eyes wide.
But Nico's turned to him, even paler than he usually is and trembling in anger.
He slams the knife down, hard, and Percy flinches.
“What do you think this is, Percy?” He asks, something deadly in his voice, “What do you think we're doing?”
“I don't know why that matters.”
“It matters because you think I'm off fucking all my friends, apparently.”
When Percy doesn't answer, Nico turns off the stove and walks off, storming to the bedroom.
He can hear him moving things around, opening the closet – heart in his throat, Percy tries to figure out the words, to say the right thing to fix it.
Nico comes back, a bag slung over his shoulder – he's tense, eyes guarded and a stubborn tilt to his mouth.
“I'm going to Hazel's. Figure out what this is before you even think about bothering me again.” He snaps, all cold steel and fury.
“It's your place,” Percy says because his brain is still catching up with whatever is happening, “I can go.”
That's not the right thing to say.
It's evident from the start, with the way Nico closes his eyes and shakes his head like Percy's failed yet another test.
“You didn't accept your mother's old place. You haven't gone to yours in more than a month, your clothes are here, all your shit is here too– this is our place, Percy, for Gods' sake.”
And that- that can't be right, can it?
He turned down mom's apartment, true, but he still lives in his own place.
Except it's not.
Except, the last time Percy went to his place, it was to pick up the last of his clothes.
Because he's been living here, he realizes with a jolt, they've been living together.
Even now, what should've been their dinner is still on the counter, where Nico was chopping vegetables and Percy was stirring and adding them to the pot – where they were cooking together like they do every day. For the past month, at least.
“Just,” Nico doesn't sound all that angry anymore, but awfully, terribly tired and that might just be worse, “Take some time to figure it out. Please.”
Percy walks him to the front door, following like a lost dog and feeling completely out of his depth. On the way, he spots his favourite blue blanket on the couch. His jacket hanging over the back of a chair. His shoes by the door.
And how did he miss it? Constantly whining about not having Nico when he's had nothing but Nico for so long?
Since his birthday, they've been living in each other's pockets. And Percy was so caught up in wanting that he didn't even see he had.
“I'll come find you,” He says now, “I'm sorry.”
“I know. Take your time.”
The way Nico says it – the slight twitch of one eyebrow, the darkening of his eyes, the downward gaze that shows nothing but defeat – it's like he's preparing to be let down. Like he doesn't believe it, not really. Or like he won't let himself believe, which would be so very Nico it almost hurts.
(I know you.)
“I will.”
The door closes.
Percy is alone, in Nico's home.
In their home.
(How long has it been theirs? How long have the windows been open, the sun shining through, while Percy refused to look?
How long has he been running?)
Notes:
this is what happens when you dont Talk, people. they've both been such messes tbh without even thinking the other might be living through the same problems or misunderstand their take on this entire thing and its going to be talked about next chapter, i just wanted to space it out a bit more and it felt right to me to divide them in separate parts. hope you liked it, see you next time!!
Chapter 9: nine
Summary:
Someone has to put a stop to it, eventually.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Percy goes through every room, exploring it as if it all new – and that's proof, too, the familiarity that forces him to focus, to pick the smallest details, so used he is. Traces of a life lived together. Two people in one space, seamlessly slotting together.
Shoes piled up next to the front door, jackets and blankets left out just in case Nico gets cold when they inevitably curl up together after dinner. Two cups still dripping water, recently used. A house key burning a hole in his pocket and most of his clothes tucked neatly beside Nico's.
“What do you think this is?”
He could kick himself.
(The bed is soft when he crawls back in to sleep.
Unconsciously, he slides over to the left and groans into the pillow.
Fuck. He has a side of the bed.)
There's nothing soft to wake to, the next morning. Only the half chewed remains of his jealousy, spit up on the pristine floors in his senseless wandering the night before.
It's not exactly guilt, the weight in his chest, but rather frustration. They're not good with words, either of them, but is that enough justification for them to end up like this? Had they been so ridiculous, fumbling in the dark in front of everyone?
He's embarrassed, sort of, of having been seen dancing around something that already belonged to him and he wonders if this same sense of mortification is hitting Nico, right now.
Percy knows that this kind of thing is stronger, for him. Shame and all the things get dragged up to the surface with it.
Take your time. But they've already lost so much of it. Someone has to put a stop to it, has to say enough and mean it, eventually.
Hazel's place isn't far from her brother's – perks of being Hades' son, he guesses, unlimited funds – and she's only too happy to shoo him in even though there's a sharp edge to the curve of her mouth, one he associates with Nico more often than not.
They're rubbing off on each other, he thinks and there's only a small pang in his heart, at the thought.
Nico's sitting by the window because he searches fresh air like no one Percy has ever met before, will drag his chair across the room if it means he can feel the breeze on his skin.
He's in soft, well-worn pajamas that seem to swallow him whole, brown and obviously Frank's.
“You didn't get breakfast,” Nico mumbles, smoothing down his hair, “I can tell.”
“Yeah, well, I had to come get you,” Percy reminds him, sitting on the floor beside him and ignoring the inquisitive glance it gets him, “I don't know where the food is.”
Nico snorts, staring down at him with a single eyebrow raised.
“That's a lie.”
“True,” Percy shrugs, “Didn't feel like eating alone. Haven't done that in a while.”
Truthfully, he hadn't thought about food, not really. Even now, as hunger makes his stomach growl, he can't bring himself to care much about it.
“So you do remember that.” Nico huffs, looking down at his socked feet.
Percy winces.
“I do. I shouldn't have said that. I know I shouldn't have.”
Apologies have never fit quite right in Percy's mouth, always too much or too little, crowding the space behind his teeth. But.
Someone has to put a stop to it, eventually. The turning of the wheel.
“I'm sorry.”
It hangs between them, lingering in the empty spaces, and he's almost glad they didn't do this at home, didn't fill it with even more strife than they had the previous night. Percy hopes, somewhat stupidly, that the next time they might walk through the door will be to clean their mess instead of adding to it.
“So am I,” It's a barely there whisper but it reaches his ears all the same, “I'm bad at this, I think.”
Quietly, without fuss, Nico lets one of his hands drop from where he'd been fidgeting with his shirt, letting it dangle as an offering. Percy reaches back, his body moving before he can think about it, that old instinct guiding him towards Nico as it has so many times before.
“You're only as bad as I am,” He tells him and watches as he fights back an amused smile, “I think we can manage.”
He's made vows, before. Promises. This one, somehow, runs deeper than any. Thrums in his blood with the same importance as if it were sworn upon the river Styx but carries none of the menace.
They sit beside one another for what feels like hours, letting the morning light wash them anew, and it feels like they're finally falling into step, shifting and making space for the other between their lungs at last.
It's a good feeling. The kind that never ends.
Notes:
double update to finish it off, go on to chapter ten!
Chapter 10: ten - nico
Summary:
It's a warmer, softer world, the one in which Nico turns twenty-two.
Notes:
double update, start at chapter nine if you haven't seen it!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nico has a routine, one honed by many months of practice.
He wakes early most days but lounges in bed until he can no longer stand it, fighting off Percy's sleepy embrace and slipping to the kitchen, to prepare coffee the way he likes and Percy only pretends to, sipping slowly and trying to get it down. As if he could ever be a coffee person.
He'll jump to sit on the counter, close to the open window, and bask in the cold morning air, staunchly refusing to turn on any lights.
It'll be Percy that will do it when he wakes, yawning and making his way towards whatever sweet treat they've got on hand before reaching for some eggs.
Their day won't be spent together, not really.
Percy's work – whatever it might be this time, in his endless efforts to merge demigod and mortal life – will keep him out of the house while Nico amuses himself with whatever task Hades has set for him and pretend not to know his father's exasperated disapproval at his choice of partner.
They'll meet up in the afternoon, though, when Nico will casually step out of a shadow just in time for lunch. And again later, when they'll make their way inside together and take off their shoes by the door, leaving them where they fall to be inevitably tripped on the next morning.
They never eat alone, not a meal goes by where they aren't sitting side by side. Building habits out of one off comments because that's how it is with them, more often than not, and it's only too nice to do so.
Falling into patterns turns out to be as easy as it was in the beginning, without the confusion that had left them both stumbling in the dark.
It's a warmer, softer world, the one in which Nico turns twenty-two. He has a routine, usually, but he doesn't mind it being broken, when he wakes to soft kisses being placed on his cheeks, down to his collarbones.
“Happy birthday.” Percy rasps, trying and failing to sing, still half asleep.
“Does it count as our anniversary, do you think?” Nico sighs back, cradling his head against his chest and plunging his fingers in his hair.
“Dunno,” Spoken against the skin of his neck, Nico can feel the smile pressed there and hopes it sinks under it, through the muscle and to the bone, carved into it to be found years into the future by whatever scholar ends up digging them up, exposed to wandering eyes as proof of this moment long after they've gone, “Do you want it to?”
“Not really.”
“Thank the Gods. I've only planned for a birthday.”
Laughter bubbles out of him, helplessly, as Percy rolls them over, staring up at him with a lopsided smile and an earnest, fond gaze.
“One thing at a time,” He states, thumb rubbing circles on Nico's hip like he can't help but reach for him, “We'll get there, eventually.”
Notes:
it has been a long time, i wont pretend otherwise. i feel like this is the exact ending ive been going towards (that's the reason there's no smut, it didn't feel right for me) and i hope its the same for you all. i won't lie - this fic is more of a relaxing break from the others than anything else, so there might occasionally be updates with little scenes and such but the main part is over so idk when that will be.
thank you for bearing with me until now and for reading this at all!