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Percy still didn’t know what to call it, this thing between him and Will. He felt too old to be this giddy over it, like the fluttery feeling in his chest shouldn’t be there anymore given how much he’d seen in his life. A new relationship, if he could call it that, shouldn’t have him by the throat like this.
Will had spent the day studying, and they had made plans for Percy to come over, watch a movie, and relax. Will’s free time has only become rarer over the years, and even an hour or two in the evening felt like an indulgence.
He knocked on the door, pushing it open when he heard Will’s voice call him in. He wasn’t surprised to find Will still studying, hunched over a notebook on his sofa. He looked at the diving watch Annabeth had gotten him for Christmas one year; he could give Will another hour or so.
Adjusting his bag on his shoulder, he headed over to the breakfast bar and pulled out the folder of paperwork Hazel had none-too-subtlely forced into his hands earlier. He could pass the next hour doing his job, it wouldn’t hurt him.
After making his way through about half the stack of paper, Percy stretched and checked his watch again. He figured that fifty-two minutes was close enough to an hour; it was time for Will to stop studying.
“Will,” he called, hopping off the stool.
Will didn’t even twitch. Percy wasn’t surprised.
He walked behind the sofa, looped his arms over Will’s shoulder and rested his chin on top of Will’s head. Will smelled clean, and the minty smell of his shampoo had Percy relaxing.
Will didn’t jump or startle or anything like that, even as absorbed in his work as he was, demigods rarely abandoned all situational awareness. Percy liked to think of it as the bubble shrinking.
“Oh,” Will said, dropping his pen and tilting his head back to look up at Percy through wide eyes. “What time is it?”
“Almost 9,” Percy said, moving his hands to feel out the knots in Will’s shoulders and neck.
Will blinked. “Oh. Sorry,” he said. “How long have you been here?”
Percy hummed, and pressed his thumbs into where Will was carrying the most tension. Will groaned.
“Not that long.” Percy pulled back and walked around the sofa so he was in front of Will. “Are you in a good spot to stop?”
Will glanced toward his notebook and sighed. “Yeah,” he breathed out. “As good as I’ll ever be.”
He leaned back against the sofa, kicking the coffee table away, and Percy decided to take that as an invitation. He moved forward so he was sitting on Will’s lap, straddling his thighs. He brought his hands back up around Will’s shoulders to play with the end of Will’s hair.
“Hi,” he whispered. Will had a couple inches on him, but like this, he was able to look down at Will.
Will smiled up at him, hands coming to rest on his thighs, and it was the most beautiful thing he’d seen all day. “Hi there.”
There was always a moment of hesitation, even with Will smiling up at him and Will’s hands radiating heat down into his bones, Percy didn’t dive in right away. He twisted a golden curl he couldn’t see around his finger and leaned closer, eliminating some of the space between their faces.
Will’s eyes sparkled and he let out a little laugh before he surged up to capture Percy’s lips. They’d kissed before, many times, but this felt new , like it could lead to something. There was something almost desperate in how Will’s lips moved against his.
Will’s hands moved up to his hips and pulled him close. He laughed into Will’s mouth, and Will wasted no opportunity to deepen the kiss.
Percy groaned. Gods, if it was possible to get closer to Will, he would be. He knew there were reasons for why they were taking it slow, new and past experiences made things awkward and fumbling at the best of times, and the lack of definition had Percy holding back. But right now? With Will’s fingers hooking through his belt loops and the taste of the tea Will’d been drinking on his tongue, he wanted more.
Sparks shot up his spine when Will’s thumbs snuck up under his shirt and grazed bare skin. He moaned into Will’s mouth, deepening the kiss and tangling his fingers in Will’s hair. Will seemed to grow more confident, digging his thumbs in and pressing in a way that had Percy’s hips jerking forward.
“Will,” he gasped. “That’s not fair.”
Will smirked up at him. “Who said anything about fair?”
The anticipation made him feel like his whole body was buzzing.
Instead of kissing him again, Will mouthed along his jaw and neck, making him feel like he was about to burst into flames, and the only thing he could do was close his eyes and hold on tight. Gods, who knew hands and lips could feel this good?
Will froze.
“Percy?” he asked, tone high pitched and nervous, like he had just stumbled upon something he knew he wasn’t supposed to see. “What are these?”
It hit Percy, suddenly, where Will’s thumbs were, that Will of all people might recognize the scars for what they were, would know that the change in skin texture was something to be concerned with instead of blamed on a random monster he’d bested.
The memories were blurry for the most part. The clearest part was always the struggle to climb on the bathroom sink to get the off-brand neosporin and band-aids from the medicine cabinet. He never told him mom, had never told anyone, not even Annabeth. He was sure his mom knew, was sure it was part of the reason she’d started sending him to boarding schools she couldn’t afford.
He swallowed. Too much time had passed for him to say they were nothing, and the narrowing of Will’s eyes confirmed it.
“Uh,” he tried, swallowing around the words. “They’re nothing?”
“Is that a question or an answer?” Will asked.
He widened his eyes. “Both?”
Will frowned. “Percy…”
“They’re old,” he insisted. “They really don’t matter.”
“They do,” Will said, pushing him back to get a better look. Percy had to say, of the many ways he’d imagined Will pulling at the waistband of his jeans and underwear, this had factored into none of them. “These are burns.”
“Old ones,” he repeated, fingers crossed that Will would drop it. He pulled on a piece of hair that was still wrapped around his finger, hoping to redirect the conversation.
Will did not drop it.
“Percy,” he said again. His eyes were burning in a way that Percy wasn’t sure a demigod’s were supposed to be able to. “What are these from?”
Percy didn’t want to answer, but the way Will tightened his grip told him he didn’t have much of a choice. Sure, Will would respect him not wanting to talk about it, but it’d hang between them, even if only in his own mind. It would come up silently anytime his shirt lifted up or Will saw him undressed.
“Gabe,” he muttered. Maybe Will would drop it. There was still time.
Will’s brows scrunched together. “Say that again?”
“Gabe,” he sighed, speaking up this time. “My first step-father.”
“I didn’t know you had a step-father before Paul.”
He looked to the side. “Yeah, well,” he said. “I don’t like to think about him.”
“How—?”
Percy huffed out a breath. It didn’t hurt anymore, not like it used to, but that didn’t mean he liked to think about it. And maybe it’d be good to tell someone. Will deserved to know.
“Cigar burns,” he said, softly. “He liked to drink, would have me bring him beers when he had people over for poker nights. If I wasn’t fast enough, well, you can figure it out.”
“How old were you?”
He swallowed. “I don’t know,” he said. “The first time wasn’t really sealed into my brain or anything. But young, when I was home with him a lot more. My mom worked a lot.”
Will’s eyes were still blazing and the grip on his hips hadn’t let up. “Please tell me he’s out of your life.”
He turned back to Will and ducked his head to press a light kiss to Will’s lips. He wasn’t sure who he was comforting more with it, but either way, it helped.
“He’s gone, I promise,” he said.
“How do you know?” Will asked.
Percy chuckled. “I know because I’ve taken care of it,” he said. “Or rather, my mom did.”
Will blinked. “Sally?”
“Yup,” Percy said, breathing out a laugh. “Turned him into a statue and sold him to an art gallery.”
“Your mom turned him into a statue.”
He nodded.
Confusion shone on Will’s face. “But isn’t you mom mortal? Like fully mortal? Normal human?”
“Yeah?”
“Okay,” Will said, not looking any less confused. “So your mortal mother turned your old step-father into stone and sold him to a museum?”
He nodded again. “Yes.”
“ How ?”
“Oh!” Percy said, realization hitting him. It had been so long that it was easy to forget not everyone knew. Somehow, this made the conversation feel lighter. “She used Medusa’s head.”
“Uh-huh,” Will said, sounding breathless. “I’m assuming you were involved in her acquiring of Medusa’s head.”
“Well, yeah,” he said. “Sent it to Olympus on my first quest, when I came back home after camp it was there. I think it was my dad, but I wouldn’t put it past Hermes honestly.”
Will shook his head, muttering something Percy couldn’t catch under his breath. “Your mother terrifies me.”
Percy laughed. “I love her.”
“I know.” Will’s grin was bright, but something in his eyes still flickered and his thumbs went back to their ministrations over the scars. “But he’s dead? Can’t bother you anymore?”
“No,” Percy whispered, shaking his head. “He can’t bother me anymore.”
He didn’t have a name for the feeling rising in his chest. It was too early to call it love but it felt an awful something like it, so for now he might call it awe tinged with disbelief. Somehow, he knew that if Will ever got half the chance to make Gabe regret being alive, he would. And that meant something. This impossibility was important, but Percy didn’t have the words to begin to tell Will.
He didn’t have to.
Will brought him close, hands going around his waist in a huge and Percy took the opportunity to shove his face into the side of Will’s neck and squeeze back as tight as he could.
He felt soft lips against his temple. “How’d you feel about ordering in?”
“Delivery?” Percy asked, words muffled against Will’s neck.
“I’m thinking pizza.”
He nodded, pulling back. Will didn’t let him get very far.
“Let me hold you?” Will asked, looking up with wide eyes that Percy didn’t have it in him to say no.
He didn’t want to say no. Not when this felt so good. They’d barely touched on it, and they didn’t need to. Will might not get it, and Percy would thank the Gods that he didn’t, but Percy didn’t need to go into detail. Will knew. Any anger in Will’s eyes was for him, not at him. It was so simple, this silence. It was a quiet, easy acceptance.
“Okay,” Percy muttered, falling back against Will. There was no point in putting up a fight, in trying to pull away when neither of them wanted him to. “Pizza sounds good.”
A while later, neither of them good at sitting still, they were still on the sofa, lying down with Will’s hand slung over his waist, holding him close. Warm fingers traced nonsensical patterns on his stomach, but Will’s hand made no moves beyond that.
Neither of them made any move to order the pizza.