Chapter Text
I didn’t feel real when Jason told him that he and Piper had gotten engaged. It didn’t feel real when he got the save the date in the mail, or later when he got the invitation. It didn’t feel real when he coordinated with Frank, Leo, and Nico about their suits or the bachelor party. It didn’t even feel real when he bought his plane ticket for LA. It still felt like something distant, vacant, hazy.
The moment it felt real was the day before he left for the wedding, when Percy got a text from Jason that simply read Just feel like I should let you know that she’s bringing a date. That’s when it hit Percy. That he’d be seeing her. The only her that matters.
It’s been a year since he saw her, since she told him it wasn’t working and packed up her things, leaving him alone in their New York City apartment they’d shared for the past two years. It’s been a year since he kissed her, held her, shared his life with her. It’s been a year since he lost the one thing in his life he’d ever been sure of.
He spends the whole plane ride a wreck, his stomach tossing and turning, his brain incapable of shutting up. His fingers itch to unlock his phone and go to his camera roll, to scroll through seven years of pictures of the two of them. He only stops himself by reminding himself that that would probably make him cry, and the last thing he wants is to sob in front of a plane full of strangers.
When he lands, he gets his bags and heads out to the curb, where he spots a pulled over car with Jason, Piper, and Leo leaning against it chatting comfortably. When they see him, they all light up like Christmas trees, Jason surging forward first to give him a hug.
“It has been way too long,” Piper says while squeezing him tight.
“It’s been three months,” Percy says, rolling his eyes.
Three months ago, Chiron hosted a camp reunion, so Piper and Jason came back to visit. The three of them got lunch before Piper and Jason headed to Camp Half-Blood, but Percy decided at the last second not to go, because he knew she’d be there. And he wasn’t ready to see her yet. He’s not ready to see her now, honestly.
“That’s still way too long,” she says.
He climbs in the backseat with Leo who’s still fiddling around with something from his toolbelt. Some things never change.
“You’re the last one to get here,” Jason says.
“Really?” Percy asks.
“Yeah, dude, you were really cutting it close. Rehearsal is in like three hours,” Leo says. “Me and Cal got here three days ago, Frank and Hazel drove down from New Rome yesterday, and Nico and Will got here last night. Thalia and Reyna got leave from Artemis to be gone the whole week so they’ve been here since last weekend, and Annabeth–”
Piper shoots a very pointed look at Leo in the rearview mirror, and Leo clamps his mouth shut, immediately realizing his mistake.
“Guys, seriously,” Percy says. “You can say her name around me.”
Jason cocks his head to his side, keeping his eyes still on the road. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I know you guys haven’t seen each other since the breakup.”
“Of course it’ll be okay. I'm fine.”
He isn’t fine. He hasn’t been fine in a year.
They chat about nothingness for the rest of the drive to the hotel where the whole wedding party will be staying. Percy checks in and then heads up to his room to change out of his plane clothes. He has about an hour before he has to be at the wedding venue for the rehearsal, and he spends that time staring at the wall and trying to hype himself up for what’s surely about to be the most emotionally charged couple hours of his life.
The venue is only a ten minute walk from the hotel, on the side of a Malibu beach. When he gets there, he can see the rest of the wedding party already assembled down at the foot of the aisle. He can see Annabeth’s blonde curls sticking up from behind Piper, and he takes a deep breath before walking over, his legs practically shaking.
“Percy!” Hazel exclaims when she sees him, and the rest of the group turns to look.
Annabeth’s gray eyes land on him, and he suddenly feels like he’s on fire. He tries to avoid meeting her gaze, desperate to avoid the rush of emotion that he knows will wash over him once he truly sees her, but he can’t help it. He has to look at her. He has to.
She’s dressed like she always is, in a pair of jeans and sneakers, a white t-shirt thrown on top. Her hair wild as always, her face fresh and soft and so beautiful it fucking hurts. Her lips had been pulled up into a smile, but they tug down to a harsh line when she sees him, her already marble eyes turning to stone. She holds eye contact with him for a moment before looking away abruptly, her casual expression returning to her face once her eyes aren’t on him.
Everybody rushes forward to hug and say hello. Despite his pounding heart, Percy can’t deny how nice it is to see all of his friends again. He hasn’t seen Thalia or Reyna in years, not since he last ran into the Hunters on a quest. He’s honestly surprised Artemis gave them the time off to come to the wedding, but he’s thankful for it nonetheless. Nico he sees fairly frequently since he and Will go to college together in New York, but Frank and Hazel live in New Rome, so he doesn’t get the chance to visit them as much as he’d like. In all honesty, New Rome holds too many memories of him and Annabeth’s college days for him to visit anymore.
He says hello to everyone but her, the two of them moving around each other clunkily, trying desperately to keep as far away as possible. Percy is beyond relieved when it’s time to start the rehearsal.
Leo is the best man, so he’ll be walking with Annabeth, who’s the maid of honor. Nico is walking with Reyna, and Frank and Hazel are obviously paired together, which leaves Percy to walk with Thalia.
They all line up, walking in their pairs down the aisle. Percy and Thalia are last. As they wait to go, she says, “Sorry about being super sweaty. I’m kind of freaking out about my baby brother getting married.”
Percy laughs. “Does he really count as your baby brother anymore? He’s way older than you now.”
“I remember when he was born. He’s always going to be my baby brother,” she says with a shrug. “In all honesty, my money wouldn’t have been on Jason and Pipes being the first from the group to get married. I always thought it was going to be you and…”
Percy swallows the brick threatening to lodge itself in his throat. “Yeah, I did too.”
The two of them start walking, but Thalia leans towards him and whispers, “How are you doing with all of that?”
“I’m fine. I’m over it,” he replies blankly.
She exhales. “You can keep telling yourself that, Percy, but you and I both know that Annabeth Chase isn’t the kind of girl you get over.”
She’s so right it makes his chest hurt.
* * *
After the rehearsal, everybody goes back to their rooms to get ready for dinner. Percy stands in the shower for much longer than is technically necessary, but the hot water feels good on his skin and gives him the extra burst of energy he needs to get through the night. The restaurant isn’t fancy per se, but it’s nice enough that his usual jeans and t-shirt won’t do, so he slips into a pair of khakis and a dark blue dress shirt. It’s only as he’s walking into the restaurant that he remembers where the shirt came from. Annabeth had bought it for him for his twentieth birthday, saying that he couldn’t wear camp t-shirts for the rest of his life. It’d been his favorite ever since then, and he’d reached for it tonight unconsciously, without pausing to consider the implications of such a choice. He considers going back to the hotel to change, but then he’ll be late to dinner. He’ll just have to hope Annabeth doesn’t remember.
When he gets to the table, most everybody is already there. He takes a seat towards the end with Frank and Hazel on one side and Thalia and Reyna on the other. Annabeth and her date are the only people not there yet, and Percy is pleased to see that the only otherwise open seats are on the dead other end of the table. He’s surprised that she’s the last one to arrive; she’s usually painfully punctual.
Percy senses rather than sees when she comes in the room. He’s always been attuned to her movements, like she’s the sun and he’s just another planet caught in her orbit. So even though he doesn’t see or hear her come in, his hair stands on end, static electricity immediately building between them from other sides of the room.
He can’t help it; he looks up to watch her enter, and when he does, his knees would have gone out from under him had he not been sitting. Earlier today when he’d seen her, she’d looked beautiful and amazing in the way that she always did: hair a little messy, comfortable clothes, face free of makeup. That’s the version of her he’d always known, the version of her he’d fallen in love with.
But tonight, she looks like a new, different version of herself. Her hair is hanging around her in loose, silky curls, her face done up with the perfect amount of makeup to accentuate her high cheekbones and pink, full lips. She’s wearing a silver dress, one that hugs her curves and stops at her mid-thighs, revealing what feels like miles of bare, smooth skin. She looks like Annabeth, but grown-up. And Percy still looks like Percy, scruffy and unsure.
He knows he’s staring, but it physically hurts to tear his eyes away from her. His heart is doing aerial gymnastics, warmth spreading through him in a way that he hasn’t felt in a year.
Then he makes the mistake of looking at her date. He’s good-looking, but nothing special. For a split second, Percy thinks he looks like someone but can’t place who it is, but then it hits him like a slap to the face.
This guy looks like Luke.
He doesn’t look tons like him, but enough that it’s noticeable. Same blonde hair, light eyes, and impish smile. Percy had spent their whole relationship living in Luke’s shadow, forever the second choice, the second love. And here she was not even a year later with a man that looks like him.
They’re not touching, but as they walk to the table, he swipes her hair to the side and whispers something in Annabeth’s ear. She laughs and turns to smile at him. Percy’s chest constricts painfully. In another reality, he’d be the one walking in with her, her smiling and giggling at him, calling him Seaweed Brain and tangling their hands together. They’d be late because there’s no chance they would have not had sex in the hotel shower before coming, and she’d still be blushing and giddy, happy to be there with him celebrating the marriage of two of the people they care about most in the world.
With a lurch he realizes that maybe they’re late because they were having sex in the hotel shower, and white, hot jealousy starts coursing through his veins. It doesn’t matter that they’re not together, that they haven’t been together in a year, she will always feel like his. And the idea of her with any other man makes him sick to his stomach.
They get to the table and sit down at the empty seats, over towards Jason and Piper. Percy turns his attention down to his menu, trying desperately to swallow the horde of emotions fighting their way to the surface, or at the very least keep them off his face.
He knows he’s doing a bad job of it when Frank leans over to him and whispers, “You okay, man?” His eyes flick over to Annabeth and her date before landing back on Percy, concern in his dark eyes.
“I’m fine,” Percy says, even though he isn’t fine. He hasn’t been fine in months. He’s pretty sure he won’t ever be fine again.
Dinner is hell. His food tastes like dirt. He can barely focus on his conversation with his friends, because he can hear Annabeth talking on the other side of the table, laughing along with her date, completely unbothered. Every time he looks up at her she’s smiling at the guy, a gleam in her eyes. It makes him depressed and angry.
When the dinner finishes, everybody walks back to the hotel, hugging and kissing goodnight. Jason claps him on the shoulder and shoots him a sympathetic look, but Percy tries his best to look unbothered. The last thing he wants is Jason worried about him on his damn wedding day.
Instead of going to his room, Percy finds himself in the hotel bar, whiskey in hand. He’s never been a drinker, but right now he needs something to dull his nerves, to make everything go fuzzy and fade into the background. He has one drink and then a second, and even then he can still feel the black hole swallowing up his stomach.
Once again, Percy feels her come in before he sees her. He looks up from his drink and she’s standing at the other end of the bar ordering, still in her silver dress, her curls now messier. He doesn’t want to think about why they’d be messier.
After she orders her drink, she turns her head to the side and spots him. There’s about fifteen seconds where they’re both frozen in place, eyes locked on each other. Percy doesn’t take a breath; he’s waiting to see what will happen next. The ball is in her court. He doesn’t know if he wants her to ignore him or come over. Either would hurt so fucking bad.
Eventually, she takes a deep, heaving breath and walks over to where he’s sitting.
“I didn’t think you drank,” she says simply.
He takes another sip of his whisky. It burns going down. “First time for everything.”
She nods like she’s seriously considering what he said, and the bartender brings her her drink. She thanks him and takes a long sip herself.
“Where’s your date?” he asks. He can’t help himself.
“He’s asleep,” she answers.
“And you’re not sleeping with him?” he says, and then immediately winces. He didn’t mean it to come out like that.
Her cheeks turn pink and her gaze hardens a little bit, her gray eyes turning to stone. “No.”
They sit in silence for nearly a minute before Percy blurts out, “Why are you here talking to me?”
“What am I supposed to do? You’re here. Am I supposed to act like I don’t know you?” she snaps.
“That’s what you’ve been doing all day,” he snaps back. “That’s what you’ve been doing for a year, actually.”
“Percy–” she starts, but he doesn’t even wait for her to finish.
“You know what? I’ll leave. That way you can go back to forgetting I exist.” He downs the rest of his drink, throwing some cash on the counter and storming away.
He’s made it to the elevator by the time she catches up.
“What is wrong with you?” she shouts.
He spins around, his blood starting to pound in his ears, a year of resentment and anger starting to seep out.
“You. This. Everything,” he says.
“What the hell do you want from me? Did you want me to not come to our best friends’ wedding because you can’t control your goddamn temper?” she says back.
“I don’t know what I wanted,” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “But it was definitely not to watch you eye fuck your new boyfriend from across the table all night.”
Her stormy eyes narrow. “I was not eye fucking him.”
“Sure, Annabeth,” he scoffs.
“That’s what this is. You’re jealous,” she says, taking a controlled step towards him.
“I am not jealous,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Yes you are. Oh my gods, Percy, we’re not even together anymore!”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” he asks. “I have spent every minute of the last year painfully aware of that fact.”
“Then you know that you have no right to–”
“And you have no right to show up here–the first time we’re seeing each other since the breakup–all over your new boyfriend who, by the way, looks exactly like Luke. Glad to see where you still stand on that,” he spits.
Just then, the elevator dings and the doors open. Percy steps inside, and before he can stop her, Annabeth steps in too, the door sliding shut behind her.
“He doesn’t look like Luke,” she says angrily.
“Stop lying to yourself, Annabeth,” he says. “That’s what this was all about, always. You can give me ten thousand reasons why we broke up, but it always comes back to that fucking guy. It always comes back to the fact that you loved him first, that he was who you wanted, that I will always be second to that.”
“Are you kidding me? Why are we still having this fucking conversation? It’s been years, Percy,” she says, her eyes going wide in disbelief.
“Years,” he repeats. “We were together for years. Seven years. And here you are, totally fine. Couldn’t care less. New boyfriend and everything. Did you ever even love me, Annabeth?”
She freezes, her bottom lip starting to quiver. “How could you even ask me that?” she says finally, her voice almost a whisper.
The elevator dings again and the doors open to their floor. Awkwardly, they walk out and stand in the hallway, still facing each other.
“Of course I loved you,” she says quietly.
“Then why did you do it?” he asks, his voice starting to crack. He feels suddenly like he’s on the verge of tears. “Why did you leave?”
She bites her lip. “We’ve talked about this.”
“I want to hear it again.”
She glances around the hallway. “Can we please have this conversation somewhere that isn’t here?”
Percy runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “We can go to my room.”
The two of them walk in silence down the hall to his room. When they get inside, she sits down on the end of the bed and he stays standing, still looking at her. Waiting for her to talk.
“It wasn’t working anymore, Percy,” she says finally.
“You didn’t want to make it work,” he snaps back.
“There wasn’t anything to do. There was too much…damage.”
He knows what she means is that he was too damaged. So much of their relationship had been surrounded by destruction and fear and death. It wasn’t until years after that it became clear that everything that they’d endured in their teenage years hadn’t simply gone away just because they’d aged and entered new phases of their lives.
“We could have worked on it. I’ve been working on it,” he says finally.
It’s true, he has been working on it. In the year since she left him, Percy had started going to therapy and practicing mindfulness. It could never make the terror and pain go away completely, but he’d learned to cope with it better. He’s less of a loose cannon now.
“You were scaring me. I was afraid of you. You were powerful, too powerful, and you were so angry and…” Her eyes flutter closed before opening again, and he can see tears gathering in their corners. “And I know you hate when I talk about him, but you reminded me of Luke. And that scared the shit out of me.”
It’s not the first time she’s said something of that effect to him, but it's the first time she’s said it in those exact words. Percy can’t help but remember all those years ago in Tartarus when he was choking Akhlys. He can’t help but picture Annabeth’s tear-stained face as she begged him to stop, as she looked afraid of him for the first time in her life.
“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, tears gathering in his own eyes. “I should have solved it sooner. I should have listened to you and tried.”
“Yes, you should have,” she says back, heat returning to her words.
His own temper flares again. He knows he fucked up, that he made mistakes, but he refuses to be the only one with blame placed on them for what happened. It was a two-way street.
“And you should have stayed instead of giving up,” he spits.
“I did not give up!” she yells, standing up off the bed.
“That’s exactly what you did! You decided that it wasn’t worth it. That we weren’t worth it,” he says.
“Don’t you fucking dare tell me why I did what I did,” she shouts stepping forward until very little space separates them, poking him in the chest. “You have no idea how hard that choice was. What it took for me to make it and how it’s affected me.”
“Well, it can’t have affected you that much since you’re so clearly fine. Happy and smiling with your new guy,” he says sarcastically.
“Gods, Percy,” she says, rubbing her eyes. “He’s not even my fucking boyfriend! He’s just a friend from work!”
“He’s…not…” Percy starts, trailing off. He’s not her boyfriend?
“No! And you’re being completely ridiculous for no goddamn reason!”
“I’m not being ridiculous,” he grumbles, even though he does feel kind of ridiculous now.
“Yes you are!”
“No I’m not!”
“I can’t deal with you!” she shouts, raising her hands in exasperation and starting to walk towards the door.
Without even thinking about it, Percy grabs her by the wrist to stop her from leaving. He tugs her back until they’re face-to-face, their bodies separated by barely an inch. He’s still holding her wrist, and they’re close enough that he can smell her shampoo, the same one she’s always used. He can see the flecks of blue in her eyes, looking up at him with heat and confusion. They’re both breathing heavily, their chests heaving.
He crushes his lips to hers. He can’t stop himself.
Percy doesn’t know what he expects her to do, but it isn’t to start kissing him back. He drops her wrist and she immediately buries her hands in his hair, keeping him tugged down to her. Her lips work against his furiously, all tongue and teeth and months and months of desperation. He digs his fingers into the flesh of her hips, pulling her flush against him, and they both release a hiss at the contact.
They’ve never kissed like this before, not in the entire seven years they were together. It’s never been so hungry. But it's like the more he kisses her, the hungrier Percy gets. He’s been starving, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satiated.
He starts walking them backwards towards the bed as Annabeth starts undoing the buttons of his shirt,
“You’re so fucking frustrating,” she says against his lips.
“And you’re impossible,” he says back.
Once she finishes unbuttoning his shirt, she pushes it off his shoulders and onto the floor, stopping at the last second to look down at it.
“I got you that shirt,” she says, looking at it inquisitively.
“You did,” he replies vaguely, grabbing her ass and hoisting her up, and her legs wrap around his waist instinctively. Even after all this time, their bodies still know exactly how to work together.
He drops her onto the bed, crawling between her legs and bringing their lips back together. He starts trailing his lips down her neck to her chest, pulling down the fabric of her dress to kiss the hollow between her breasts. She moans and buries her hands back in his hair.
He’d forgotten how incredible it was to hear her moan.
He pushes up her dress over her waist, revealing her underwear. They’re black and lacy and not ones he’s ever seen before.
“If he’s not your boyfriend, why do you have new, sexy panties?” he asks petulantly.
“Shut the fuck up,” she snaps, but it turns into a breathy moan when Percy presses his lips to her still-clothed core.
She’s wet, even through the fabric, and he groans against her, savoring her sweet taste that he’d once thought he’d never taste again. He licks her a few more times through the underwear before dragging them off and holding them up.
“Who the fuck did you buy these for?” he asks, a fresh surge of jealousy coursing through his veins. He roughly pushes two fingers into her.
“No one,” she whines, her hands scrambling for purchase on his shoulders, his back, his hair, anywhere she can reach.
He chucks the panties over his shoulder and to the floor. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, since I’m the one getting to take them off you.”
He keeps pumping his fingers, curling them just right to hit her sweet spot and make her cry out. He brings his lips to her clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.
Percy knows her body better than his own, so he can tell she’s reaching her climax, and reaching it fast.
“Oh fuck, fuck, I’m going to–” she yelps, pulling sharply on his hair.
He feels her walls clench around his fingers, her clit pulsing in his mouth. He keeps going through her high, feeling the exact moment her body releases and she collapses back down against the mattress.
He pulls his fingers out and starts trailing his kisses up her stomach before sitting up between her legs.
“Up. Sit up,” he commands, a sly smile coming to his face when she obeys without a second thought. He tugs the bunched up fabric of her dress up over her head and tosses it to the ground.
She’s wearing a bra to match the panties, black and lacy and nearly transparent. He can faintly see her nipples through the fabric, already taut and pebbled.
“What is up with you and the sexy underwear?” he groans, reaching up to palm her breasts. “Are you seriously trying to tell me you decided to buy new lingerie and it wasn’t so that guy would fuck you?”
She leans her head back and lets him latch his lips onto her neck while his hands still massage her breasts. Even as her body responds to him perfectly, she still manages to say, “It’s really not any of your business who I fuck.”
He undoes the snaps of the bra, sliding it off and running his thumbs over her bare nipples, eliciting a breathy moan from her lips.
“It is always going to be my business who you fuck,” Percy says.
He trails his lips down until he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, nipping and sucking in the way he knows makes her go crazy. Then he slips a hand back between her legs, starting to rub at her clit in perfect synchronicity with his mouth.
Her moans get higher and higher in pitch until she gasps out, “Gods, fuck, I’m going to come again, Per–” but she swallows her words, cutting herself off before she finishes.
A wave of anger washes over him. He wants to hear her say his name. He wants to be the only name she says in these moments. He doesn’t ever want her to say another man’s name like that again.
He stills his fingers for a moment, releasing her breast from his mouth with an audible pop. She whines in frustration and looks at him.
Percy slowly brings his thumb back to her clit, touching it softly.
“What are you–”
“Say my name, Annabeth,” he says calmly, starting to rub against her firmer.
She scrunches her eyes closed, exhaling a soft moan.
He moves his hand harder, switching to the heel so he can slip two fingers back inside her. “Say it.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she rambles.
He brings his lips back to her neck, sucking harshly, suddenly moving his fingers rougher and harder than before. She throws her head back and practically shrieks and he feels her starting to tighten around him.
He slams the tips of his finger into her sweet spot as he breaks away just long enough to say, “Say it, Annabeth. Say my name.”
His hand is drenched with a new wave of her own release and she clamps down around him, coming again. Finally she screams a long, drawn out, “Peeeeeerrrrrccccyyyyyy!”
Once she releases around him, he slips his fingers out and closes his eyes, leaning his head against her chest for a moment. He needs a second to remember this moment is real, to live in it before it’s ripped away from him. To memorize the way she just said his name so he has something left when she leaves again.
After a few seconds, she pushes against him. He sits up and looks at her. Her face is red and sweaty, her hair a complete mess, but she’s so beautiful. So goddamn beautiful.
“You’re still wearing your pants,” she says finally.
He glances down at his legs, at the prominent bulge in the front of his pants. “Yeah, I am.”
“Let’s fix that,” she says, popping the button on his khakis and starting to slide them down. He helps her pull them off and kick them to the ground, and then he’s left in just his boxers.
She looks at him for a second before pushing him down onto the mattress and climbing between his legs. She pulls down the waistband of his boxers just far enough to pop out his erection. When she wraps her hand around his length, he hisses.
“Oh gods, Annabeth,” he exhales.
She runs her thumb over the leaking tip before starting to pump and then every thought in Percy’s head goes flying out the window. She moves her hand with expert precision while bringing her lips to every inch of his bare skin–his chest, his stomach, his hips. When she finally takes the head of his cock into her mouth, he groans loud and long.
He looks down at her and she’s looking up at him. He watches as she slides his cock all the way to the back of her throat, gagging a little as saliva drips out of her mouth. Her eyes are red and watery and he can’t stop looking at them. When she starts bobbing her head, he takes a hand to cup the back of her skull.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking good,” he praises, the words slipping from his lips before he can stop them. It’s been a year since he called her baby, since she was his to call that. He worries that will be the thing that pulls her back to reality, that reminds her this isn’t something they’re supposed to do.
Instead, she moans around him and starts going faster, bringing her hand to the base of his cock to pump him in time with her mouth.
“Oh, gods–fuck–Annabeth,” he chokes out. He feels the tell-tale tightening in his stomach and before it can grow, he pulls her off of him. He doesn’t want to finish yet. This can’t end until he’s been inside her.
He flips their places on the bed, laying her gently back against the pillows before jumping off the bed and scrambling over to where his wallet sits on the table. He grabs the condom that’s been sitting in there collecting dust for a year, pulling off his boxers as he rips the foil with his teeth and slides it on.
When he gets to the bed, she opens her legs and he crawls between them. Careful to keep his body weight off of her, he brings his elbows to rest on either side of her head, lining himself up with her entrance. He runs the tip through her slick folds a few times before pressing it against her clit, making her moan again.
He presses the head of his cock right at her opening and looks down at her, making eye contact. “You can tell me to stop. We don’t have to do this,” he says, even though he wants to do this so much. He’s never wanted anything so much in his life.
Without breaking his eye contact, she brings her hands around to the small of his back, to the place that was once his weak spot. She gently presses against it until he starts to enter her.
They moan in unison and he presses his forehead to hers. Nothing, nothing compares to being inside of Annabeth. This is Elysium. He could die happily while buried inside her.
Once he’s all the way forward, their hips flush against each other, she brings her legs up to cross her ankles on his waist. He takes that as his cue to get moving, and pulls nearly all the way out before thrusting all the way forward. She screams and wraps her arms around his neck, running one hand up into his hair.
“Holy fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good,” he mumbles.
Suddenly he’s back to feeling like he might cry. He squeezes his eyes closed and presses a kiss to her lips.
“Gods, I missed you,” he whispers.
She says nothing, just keeps pushing back against him roughly.
“Annabeth,” he says, but she once again stays silent.
Hurt and anger flare inside him, and before he can stop himself, he’s slamming into her harder and harder. He wants her to talk. He wants her to tell him that she’s missed this as much as he has.
“Did you think about this? Did you think about me?” he asks forcefully.
“Yes,” she moans.
“Did you miss me fucking you?”
“Yes, gods, fuck. ”
She tries to tilt her head to the side but he takes hold of her face and keeps her looking at him. “Did you think about me while you touched yourself?”
“Yes,” she mumbles. “Yes, I thought about you.”
“Did you think about me while other guys fucked you?” he asks harshly, thrusting into her with so much force the whole bed shakes.
“Percy,” she just moans.
“Answer me, Annabeth. Did you think about me while letting other guys fuck you? Did you wish it was me?” he demands, even though he doesn’t really want to know. He doesn’t want to know anything about what Annabeth has been doing with other men since they broke up. But jealousy and pain are building in his chest and this is the only way he can get them out.
“I didn’t–” she sobs. “I didn’t. Not since you.”
It takes a few seconds for his brain to wrap around what she’s saying, and when it does, he slows his movements, almost stilling inside her. “You haven’t…”
“No,” she says, shaking her head, and now she actually has tears streaming down her face. “I couldn’t. It was only you. Only ever you.”
“Fuck, Annabeth,” he exhales, starting to move again.
She cries out, wrapping her arms back around his neck and tugging him closer to her like she never wants him to let her go.
“I couldn’t either,” he says, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. “There’s never been anyone else but you. You’re all there is for me. All there’ll ever be. It’s you. Always you.”
Tears stream down her face as he holds her, and then he realizes he’s crying too. Their tears mingle together as he kisses her, long and deep, still thrusting into her with measured strokes. With a sharp moan, he feels her start to tighten around him again.
“Percy,” she gasps.
With his name on her lips and the feeling of her coming around him one last time, he finishes himself, orgasming harder than he ever has in his life. It feels like it goes on for hours and hours, and when it finally ends, he crashes down on top of her, his head on her chest and their sweaty skin sticking together.
He lets himself rest against her for only a minute before hopping off to throw out the condom. When he gets back to the bed, she’s still crying, leaning back against the headboard. He can’t tell if she’s angry or sad or what.
He sits down on the edge of the bed, carefully placing a hand on her thigh. She doesn't slap it away which seems like a good sign, but she won’t meet his eyes
“Can you look at me, please?” he asks softly.
When she doesn’t move, he reaches out a hand to stroke her cheekbone, not forcing her to meet his gaze, just touching her softly. He takes a deep breath, knowing what he has to do now.
Here goes nothing.
“I still love you, Annabeth. I am still so in love with you. I am so in love with you that I think it’s killing me. And I know it’s horrible and unfair of me to tell you this now. And I’m not expecting anything from you, I know you made your choice, and I respect that. But I have to tell you. I need you to know,” he says.
She takes a sharp inhale and after a lengthy pause finally looks up to meet his eyes.
“I still love you too,” she says quietly.
His heart stops.
“You…you do?” he asks.
“Yes,” she says with a nod.
He moves closer to her, his hand cupping her cheek, her gray eyes swimming with tears and locked on his.
“You still love me,” he repeats.
“I’ll never stop loving you, Percy.”
He presses his lips to hers, and this time it’s less hungry. It’s sweet and soft and loving. Because she loves him.
She loves him.
She loves him.
She loves him.
She will never stop loving him.
When he breaks away, he keeps their faces close, their lips only a breath away.
“Then why are we doing this?” he asks. “Why aren’t we together?”
“Because I thought it would be easier. I thought we needed the space. To heal. But I was wrong. It’s so fucking hard, Percy. It’s impossible,” she says with a sob.
“Then be with me. Let’s do this together. Let’s heal together. I promised you that we’d never be separated, that we’d always be together. Let me keep that promise. Please, Annabeth,” he says, leaning their foreheads together, his eyes fluttering closed.
He can’t breathe. He hasn’t been able to breathe in a year. And if she says no, he thinks he’ll never breathe again. He’ll drown, even if he is the son of Poseidon.
“Yes,” she exhales.
His eyes shoot open. “Really?”
“Yes, gods, yes Percy.” She wraps her arms around his neck.
He kisses her before breaking away to whisper, “Never again. We’ll never be apart again.”
“Never,” she agrees, pulling his lips back to hers.
They stay like that for minutes, hours, years, drinking in each other’s presence. Making up for lost time.
Finally, he pulls away, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Then he laughs. “You still never told me who the sexy underwear was for.”
Her face turns beet red. “Would it be really embarrassing if I told you I got them hoping maybe you’d be the one to take them off me?”
He laughs and pecks another kiss to her lips. “My Wise Girl, always with a plan.”
“Can I stay here tonight?” she asks.
“If you don’t, I think I might die,” he replies, which earns him a laugh. One of Annabeth’s true laughs, the kind she’s always reserved just for him.
They climb under the covers together, her back against his chest and his arms wrapped tight around her as they drift off to sleep.
He presses a soft kiss to the back of her neck. "Goodnight, Annabeth."
"Night, Seaweed Brain," she sighs.
And for the first time in a year, Percy sleeps peacefully.