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Percy Jackson's apartment was a fucking icebox.
"My apartment is a fucking icebox," he whined around the toothbrush in his mouth to the Iris image of Annabeth that shimmered in front of the bathroom mirror. "I think I need you to come home and warm me up."
"Poor baby," was Annabeth's sarcastic response, but when Percy grumbled something about just want to sleep with my girlfriend, so sue me, her mocking smirk melted into a sympathetic pout, because seriously, the frequency with which they missed each other at night - what with his night shifts at the fire station and her late nights at her internship - was driving them both nuts. "This sucks," she offered.
"Yep. No way I'll see you tonight then?"
She shook her head. "This proposal for tomorrow is taking way longer than I anticipated. I'll be lucky if I get a couple of hours' sleep."
They said goodnight and he tried not to sound too petulant, even though he was feeling fucking petulant. She loved that damn internship so much that he could never resent it properly, even though it took her away from him on nights like tonight, when the November chill seeped through the large undressed window which looked out to the brick expanse of the next building, and settled over him like a snowdrift as he crawled onto the mattress on the floor and pulled the blankets around him.
He crossed his arms over his chest under the covers and longed for her, who felt the cold even worse than he did, and on winter nights tended to resemble an octopus, her long limbs wrapping around him, entwining, like she was trying to crawl inside the warmth of him.
Her shifted restlessly under the covers and his hand brushed against something silky. In the pale glow from the street lights on the adjacent street he examined the scrap of fabric, an insubstantial blue thing with black lace. He'd have recognised it anywhere — how many times had he peeled them off her?
He ran the panties through his fingers. They were sticky, still. He knew they hadn't been in his bed the day before when he'd changed his sheets the day before yesterday, and last night he'd slept at the fire station, so she must have slept here alone last night. The thought of Annabeth jerking off in his bed and leaving the evidence for him to find sent a jolt of desire straight to his groin, and for the love of all things holy how the fuck was she not coming back to his apartment tonight?
His hand that gripped his cock was larger and rougher than hers and calloused in different places, but it could do the job, and it didn't take him long to stroke himself hard, his right hand moving methodically and his left tangled in her discarded underwear. He let his mind wander, to the satisfied little smirk that would've tugged at the corner of her perfect mouth as she devised her plan to get him turned on as fuck, and he could imagine her here last night, spread out across his bed, slender thighs splayed apart, milky white against his the navy sheets, and her hair fanned out in a shadowy halo against the pillow, as she brought herself off. He could almost hear her, the soft stream of Ancient Greek and English expletives that rolled off her tongue when she was close to the edge — though maybe the cursing was just for his benefit — and the shuddering sigh as she came down.
He came with a grunt, rolling onto his his back and letting his hand drop to the the mattress with a thump.
Temporarily relieved, Percy may have dozed, so he couldn't say how long it was before a noise at his jerked him out of his post-coital daze. He drew Riptide, too slowly, his mind still sluggish, as the door opened. A familiar voice snarked, 'Calm down, Sparky, monsters don't have a key.'
'Hi,' he said, collapsing his sword, with a grin and the vague realisation that her voice still did the same flip-flop thing to his insides seven years into their relationship than it had when he was sixteen. 'I wasn't expecting you tonight,' he moved to get up but she knelt beside him and kissed him back into the mattress.
'I know,' she smirked against his lip. 'That's why I wanted to come round.'
He was kind-of-but-not-that embarrassed by the slightly pathetic whine that caught in his throat as she moved away to undress. 'Stay,' she commanded as she shed her coat and gloves and tossed them towards where she'd dropped her satchel by the door.
'I thought you said the thing for tomorrow was going to take all night,' he said. He watched her as she moved around the bathroom. Her movements were fluid and elegant, like everything she did was entirely effortless. It seemed to Percy that she'd always been that way, even when they were teenagers, when he and everyone else they knew were all elbows and knees and limbs growing at strange rates. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders as she shook it from its ponytail, slipping out of her button-down blouse and the black pinstripe skirt that clung to her in a way that made him want to insist she work from home on his days off.
'I lied,' she shrugged.
He laughed, so not minding, because if sneaky lying Annabeth meant surprise Annabeth coming round in the middle of the night, he was pretty okay with it. 'What's that you're always telling Piper and Jason about relationships being based on trust?' he joked. His fingers slid over the underwear still clutched in his hand.
'I can always leave if you don't want me here,' she replied, her voice dripping with self-satisfaction.
Finally — fucking finally — she threw on his old college sweatshirt over her panties and essentially crawled over the top of him to nestle under the covers, which was entirely unnecessary because they were basically lying on the floor and she just as easily could've stepped over him and actually gotten in on her side of the mattress, but which was also entirely unobjectionable.
'Hello,' she said nonchalantly, like she wasn't as sexually frustrated as he was, which must be an act, because if she spent last alone jerking off in his bed and left him the evidence to find, it's because she wanted him to be fucking her into the mattress as badly as he did.
Any witty reply he may have come up with dissolved as she snuggled against him, her ankle skimming up his shin as she cradled her hip against his thigh. 'I miss you,' was all he could manage, savouring the remnants of strawberry lip gloss as he kissed the corner of her mouth.
She brushed his hair out of his eyes as her other hand drifted down his torso, playing with the hem of his sweater before slipping beneath his sweatpants and boxers. 'I know,' she said and her tone echoed his own longing even as he felt her smirk against his mouth.
Her fingertips slid against his cock.
'Oh?' She feigned surprise but he felt her almost imperceptible shudder of anticipation as her fingertips glided across his head, collecting his come on her fingers. 'You seem to have taken care of yourself, then.'
She stroked him to hardness again and he couldn't help but buck into the hand that was no longer there, as she brought it to her mouth and sucked the spunk off her fingers.
'Wasn't that kind of the point?' he managed, his voice low and hoarse, holding up the panties still clenched in his other hand.
Her smirk fell away and she looked confused. 'They're not mine, Percy.'
'Funny girl,' he said drily, and swallowed her laughter in a kiss. She tasted like strawberry lip gloss and toothpaste and come.
She made a soft delicious sound into his mouth and he slipped an arm around her waist to pull her on top of him, but she disentangled her fingers from his hair and shimmied away from him across the mattress with a smirk. 'Well, if you're done for the night, I'll just lie over here and take care of myself, then?'
An animalistic growl rumbled deep in his throat as he followed her, prowling up her body in a way that made her dark eyes widen and her thighs fall open beneath him.
'Don't you dare,' he managed to say before he had to kiss that smug expression off her face.
For fuck's sake, though, why'd she have to even have to leave her underwear on when she was planning for hours to jump him as soon as she got into bed? Now he just had to take them off her and it just seemed like the world's biggest injustice because, fuck, he just wanted to be eating her out already. Kneeling between her legs as she kicked off her panties, he looked up at her, leaning back onto a mound of pillows, her hair fanning out beneath her and her eyes dark with lust. She grinned down at him, her smile full and genuine and his stomach did a funny somersault.
He was twenty-three, god dammit, he's too old for butterflies.
Annabeth, as usual, seemed to know exactly what her he was thinking. She pushed herself up so she was practically sitting in his lap, their legs folding around each other as she shuffled closer to him.
'I missed you too, Seaweed Brain,' she says and when she kissed him it was sweet and almost chaste until the fingers resting at the nape of his neck tilted his head back and she opened her mouth against his and fuck, she can do these things with that tongue of hers and just fuck.
Percy ran his hands down her back and around her hips to pull her more fully into his lap and as his fingers settled at top of her thighs, Annabeth's soft sigh of anticipation reminded him of his earlier task.
He trailed kisses down her throat then laid her down again, settling on his stomach between her legs. Nuzzling at her inner thigh, he was rewarded by the tremble that shuddered through her.
'Percy,' she shifted her hips impatiently, as he hooked her arms underneath her thighs to raise her to his mouth. 'Come on or I swear I'll —'
His first long firm lick up her centre effectively cut her off.
He thrived on it, the depraved thrashing mess that he could turn Annabeth into with a swipe of his tongue. She was always so capable and put-together, where he felt like he was just crashing through life knocking things over with his big shiny sword. Her superior capability in just about everything meant that nothing that turned him on more than watching her lose it under his mouth, knowing he was the only one allowed the privilege of witnessing Annabeth Chase without inhibitions.
Annabeth bucked her hips against his mouth, desperate for some relief, but he pressed his hands on her hips, holding her down. Her resentful whine dissolved into a long low mewl from the back of her throat as, still pinning her hips to the mattress as she thrashed at the bedclothes, he finally wrapped his mouth around her clit and teased it with his tongue. She arched her back as she came then, trembling, sank into the mattress with a shuddering sigh.
It was addictive though, the sounds she makes when he's between her legs, fucking her with his tongue and his fingers, and he couldn't make himself stop, working through her orgasm until she was writhing beneath him again, all but yanking a fistful of hair out of his head as she rocked her hips against his mouth, murmuring a string of curses in English and Greek as he pressed her thighs further apart under his shoulders, his elbows hooked around the underside of her legs and his hands glancing over her exposed stomach.
He adjusted the angle of his face so his nose grazed her clitoris and she came a second time with a violent shudder and a wordless cry that was almost his name.
He dropped a kiss where her hip became her thigh and shifted between her thighs, glancing up at her to meet her heavy-lidded lustful gaze. He smiled up at her, but it must have turn out more like a smirk because judging by her sharp intake of breath, she realised he was not quite finished with her yet.
His mouth was watering, hovering above her like this and he was so hard it was fucking painful and he was surely about to explode all over his sheet but he loved this part — fucking her with his fingers and being able to watch it properly, propped up on his elbows. Their eyes were still locked as he brushed a finger down the length of her dripping folds, but her eyes rolled backwards and she dropped back onto the mattress as he pushed his finger inside her.
He could already feel her clenching around his finger but he pumped his finger erratically, denying her a rhythm to match the slow circle of her hips to. A frustrated noise rips from her throat as she tried to find a rhythm to satisfy her but it dissolved into a delicious cry of pleasure as he inserts a second and third finger.
Her knuckle were white, clenching the navy sheets.
'Percy, please. Come on, please,' she begged and he relented, rubbing his erection against the mattress for some momentary relief as he slid his fingers out out her, to her foul-mouthed dissatisfaction, then, readjusting his elbows to get the power he needed, plunged his fingers in again and pumped them in and out increasingly fast.
When her clenching hands were threatening to rip his sheets into ribbons and her frustrated whining had become a persistent mewl of desperate longing, he swiped his thumb across her clit and twisted his fingers to hit the best spot inside her, and she screamed in ecstatic satisfaction. Her relief rushed over his hand, and he imagined his dripping down his forearm to coat his legion tattoo.
He sucked the taste of her off his hand then buried his face in the oversized sweatshirt she was wearing, because gods he needed to come, he needed to come right fucking now, he really did or he was going to actually explode and not euphemistically; it actually felt as though his entire body would just combust really fucking soon, but he doesn't want to come outside of her because being inside of her is kind of the most important thing ever. But Annabeth was trembling all over and kind of crying, so he could only wrap her up in his arms and wait for her to recover.
It felt like an eternity before Annabeth could finally speak. 'I —' she tried, and she had to clear her throat. 'I'll get you back for that,' she promised, still hoarsely, running her fingers through his hair.
His agonising need to come has relented a little, and he managed, 'That a promise?' before she was kissing him, gently at first then like she meant it, hard and open mouthed. She slipped her thigh between his leg so his cock was hot and hard between them, and his desperate desire flared back to life. She rocked against him and he let out a strangled cry because was she trying to actually kill him? 'Annabeth,' he choked, 'I can't - I'm going to -'
She made a crooning sound, gently pushing him onto his back and kneeling above him, and it was the sympathy on her face that made him suspicious. Sympathetic is not the first word he would use to describe Annabeth Chase in bed. Brilliant sneaky tease who always has a plan to make sure he could not stop thinking about her, maybe.
She pushed his sweatpants down his thighs and squeezes base of his cock as she hovers above him.
'Let's try something,' she said, with such a smug expression on her face that he knows he is very soon going to be the one begging. 'You don't come until I say.'
'That,' he choked out as lowered herself just far down enough for her entrance to graze the head of his cock, 'is going to be easier said than done.'
We bent to kiss him, and even the hem of her sweatshirt brushing against his hip sent shudders through him. 'I believe in you,' she answered with a smirk, and slid all the way along his length.
The tightness of her around him was almost enough to tip him over the edge, but she was watching his face intently, and he was determined not to let her win.
Yet, at least.
'You ready?' he said, trying to sound like he held some of the power in this situation, though they both knew he was entirely at her mercy.
She had the audacity to laugh. 'You okay?' she replied, which was, in fairness, a much more applicable question.
He nodded, because, sure, he could do this, to prove Annabeth wrong, he could do this — just as long as he didn't think too hard about Annabeth wetting her smirking lips, or the remnant of her come that he could still feel on his fingers; he was hero of fucking Olympus, could definitely do this.
Then she started moving, and he could barely remember his own name. She circled slowly, watching him carefully. He bit down on his lip to stop himself from giving her the satisfaction of hearing him crying out, but then she changed the pressure and he couldn't help it.
She kept circling, changing the pressure constantly, never letting him match her rhythm in the way he had done with his fingers, but he would swear this was surely so much worse, because he just made her come three times and a guy's self control was always going to be severely depleted when he's just watched Annabeth Chase lose it three times.
His hands settle on her hips to do something about setting a rhythm so he could get some relief but she whacks them away and she raised herself onto her knees and slid up his length. His hips bucked, looking for friction, but Annabeth shook her head theatrically and pressed her knees harder on either side of his hips so when she lowered herself back onto his cock, her legs were folded so tightly along his sides, her full weight settled on his hips, that he was pinned to the mattress and entirely unable to move.
When it came to payback, Annabeth Chase did not fuck around.
It seemed to go on forever, an endless night of Annabeth's hypotonic hips circling painfully slowly, her walls clenching around his dick, and not coming seemed to him like the greatest accomplishment of his life.
He had lost any coherent sense of want he was saying a while ago, but he knows he's saying shit and Annabeth seemed to respond to something that fell out of his mouth because her expression changed, her satisfied smirk on her face mirroring the desperation he had been feeling for fucking ever, and she grabbed his sweat shirt and yanked him up.
'Please?' he gasped, and he had long ago lost count of how many times he had said it.
'Yes, I'm fucking dying,' she said, manoeuvring one of her legs around his hip so her ankle presses against where his Achilles spot used to be.
'You're dying,' he spluttered, then her tongue was in his mouth, and the movement of her hips was erratic and she was clenching around his cock, and pressed into his vulnerable spot and imprinting into him, like they were a single entity, twisted together and so entwined that they will never separate themselves.
He couldn't even breathe as pleasure racked his body, and Annabeth came when he did, and her relief rushed around his cock as they both fell back onto the mattress, breathing so hard it was a long time before they could speak or move.
'I can't believe you latest so long.' Percy detected a trace of wonder as she said it, sliding off him slowly.
He huffed in mock offence. 'What happened to "I believe in you"?'
She laughed. 'I didn't believe in you at all. I thought you'd last a minute.'
'I just hate letting you win.' He shrugged, but it was mostly just a method of pulling her even closer to him.
She nuzzled at his throat. 'I should let you not let me win more often.'
'Can I get that in writing?'
She snuggled closer as they drifted into sleep, content. 'Never.'