Percy Jackson One-shots

Jason Grace: Peeping Tom, Dorkus Maximus (1/2) (Jasico) (Solangelo)

Heads-up! The end game for this fic is Jasico

XxxX

Three years. I still can't believe it's been so long. We defeated Gaea three years ago and ever since, I've just been a hot mess.

Things weren't so bad at first, back when we were all just thankful to be alive, thankful that the world was still here, that a future was possible. Piper and I spent a lot of time getting to know each other better, and I think that's when it all started on a downward spiral.

I mean, there's a difference between the desperate, needy sort of falling for somebody on a quest - where you're never sure if you'll live through the next battle - and trying to make a relationship work after that pressure lets up, when it's all on your personalities and interests. I'm actually pretty boring as a person; I tend to follow the rules, to respect laws, to encourage people I see struggling, and sort of try to make a difference in individual lives. When I learned how my mother died, I made a pact with myself to stay in control of myself as much as I could manage. I don't drink; I don't do drugs; I keep up my fitness and focus on what is within my ability to control.

Piper ... Well, she got that at first. But then she went to college, and I couldn't join her. Not with needing to travel between New Rome and Camp Half-Blood all the time. Heck, I've pretty much been around the world a couple of times now, following up on leads when I hear about some obscure god or other and need to put in the effort to make contact. I don't want any gods living off the grid to hear about my vow to see all gods get representation, and then assume I pick and choose, or put one over another in levels of importance. Anyway, Piper moved on from me. 'Outgrew' me, she says.

If I'm honest with myself, I saw it coming. Pretty much since I took on the pontifex mantle, but hearing it out loud - over a damned cell phone - hurts more than I want to admit.

So here I am, back at Camp Half-Blood, hiding from everybody in the communal boys' changing room nobody ever uses anymore, not since the cabins were upgraded with private bathrooms. Pretty much the only people who come here to use the shower, only do when they're so covered in sand from the beach that their cabin mates would complain if they dragged it through their living space.

It's dark in here. I didn't bother to turn on the lights when I came in. I can't bear to be alone with my thoughts in my own cabin, not with the giant statue of my father staring me down. I'm not even here on official business, so I didn't bother checking in at the Big House. What I really need right now is a friend. Someone who knows the kind of pain I'm feeling: who isn't going to try to cheer me up, but will just sit and listen, maybe distract me with a sword fight or check in every so often to make sure I'm alive. I came back to see Nico.

I don't even know how long I've been sitting here, only that I must have dozed off at some point because when I open my eyes, my butt feels like it's going to fall off from staying in one position too long. The changing benches are hard. I blink a few times, still disoriented by the darkness, and then I hear voices.

I stand up, shuffling with my hands outstretched, feeling my way across the room to where the partition separates the changing room from the communal showers. There's a hole in the partition wall near the corner, where three or four bricks were knocked out who knows how long ago. I kneel to peer through it. Somebody's using the showers. My stomach twists at the thought that peeking through a hole in the wall is pretty creepy. But I'm really not right in the head at the moment. I tell myself I'm only looking to see who it is, then I'll settle back onto the dark changing bench and pretend I'm not really here. A dim light shines from the shower stall at the end of the row; it fills the rest of the room with a low bluish glow, like a television somebody forgot to turn off at night, sort of spooky. I figure whoever it is must not want to draw attention to the fact they're in here. I don't even know how late it is, if it's after curfew or not.

A low chuckle sounds, followed by another voice shushing the first.

"Come on. Nobody ever comes in here. The walls are thick. We're good."

That's Nico's voice. I blink again, my mind blown a little bit. The idea of Nico being comfortable enough to shower with somebody else is something I've never thought about before. My mind seems to take the idea and spin with it straight into the gutter. Nico is gay. Chances are he's not showering with a girl, and that means there's another guy in there with him, and what if...

I furrow my brow. I'm not going to think about Nico like that. He's probably just cleaning up after a sparring practice and maybe they went a little over the time limit or something.

Or something.

The next thing I know, Nico steps out of the stall and wraps a towel around his waist. He's grinning. I can't seem to move, even though my brain screams at me to stop violating my friend's privacy as Nico pulls a dripping wet Will Solace out of the shower stall. He tosses Will a towel, not letting go of his hand, and then drags him over to the wall right in front of me.

Will dries himself as best he can with one hand, and I think there's something very wrong with my brain because I can't take my eyes off his dick. He chuckles as Nico backs him up against the wall. The hole in the wall is right there beside them, displaying for my viewing pleasure: Will's thighs, his very hard dick and Nico's towel-wrapped hips a few inches in front of him.

"Alright," Will says. "Go for it, but if someone comes in, you'd better be ready to shadow-travel us out of here."

My heart thunders in my ears as Nico murmurs something and wraps his hand around Solace's dick. I shouldn't be watching this, shouldn't be hard as a rail myself as Nico jacks Will up and down, then steps closer, his towel tenting.

It sounds like they're kissing, and honestly, I don't know why I'm so hot and bothered. I've been around kissing couples before, but never like this, never so ... naked.

I tell myself I should back away. I should get on my hands and knees and crawl the hell away, maybe hide in the corner and close my eyes, cover my ears, and give them privacy. I am so beyond overstepping Nico's business right now. But then he drops to his knees and I can't help it. I rub myself through my jeans, unable to not touch, doing it without even thinking about it.

I watch Nico take in Will's aroused body, drinking in every inch of skin as if he's in Elysium. His eyes fix on Will's shaft as he trails his fingers up and down the length. Then he leans forward and licks the tip barely poking free of the foreskin. He swallows his cock to the root the next second and does things with his throat and tongue that I think are still illegal in some states.

Even if I wanted to tear my eyes away, I couldn't; I'm captivated by the sight of Nico di Angelo's talented throat. I ignore the pressing agony between my legs, my mouth going dry, biting my lip to keep from moaning.

It doesn't work to keep Will Solace from moaning however, and before long, the room echoes with his moans, the slurping sounds and happy grunts that Nico makes, each one piercing my heart. I remember his confession to Cupid, and the arrow I couldn't prevent from sinking into his arm. For a while, in secret, I had worried that since I was the first person Nico saw after the arrow struck him, that Nico would end up crushing on me. But it never played out. If anything, it was my efforts, my seeking him out and forcing him to talk to me that actually allowed us to become friends. Had I misread that entirely? Did Cupid shooting Nico with that arrow cause me to fall for him? No. I'm sure that's not it. I never allowed myself to think about guys after Piper and I started going out. I can't recall if I ever did before that, actually. Witnessing Nico getting busy with a boyfriend - watching Solace run his fingers through Nico's hair - I've put two and two together: I'm jealous of Will Solace! It's not because of the blow job - though, holy fuck, it's really hot! - but because I want Nico for myself.

Will comes with a cry and Nico swallows it. His throat keeps on moving and his lips turn up at the corners. His face flushes pink while he makes the most amazing little moans of contentment. Will tightens his grip in Nico's hair, gasping like the stimulation is too much.

Nico pulls back, then gazes up at Will, his lips turning down, his eyes almost sad. And then he buries his face in the hinge of Will's thigh, nuzzling his cheek against Will's dick, his eyes closed. We're at eye level with each other; if Nico opened his eyes, he'd spot me. I curse myself for wanting that to happen, but it doesn't.

Will's voice sounds again, bouncing off the stone walls as he clears his throat.

Nico sighs and climbs to his feet. And then they disappear from the hole and I can hear them putting on their clothes.

I'm confused. Nico didn't come. Will didn't say anything to him after that incredible gift. Not a single word is spoken between them afterwards and then the door opens and closes with a deep thud, the hinges groaning with its weight.

My heart feels torn to ribbons. Like its been shot point blank with several dozen of Cupid's arrows and there's nothing left of my former woes. I don't give a crap about my hurt feelings after getting dumped anymore. What kills me is the idea that Nico is in a relationship that isn't giving him what he needs. He deserves to be worshipped, caressed, encouraged. If I was in Will's place, I wouldn't be able to stop the string of unending praises falling from my mouth. Probably, Nico would threaten to tape my mouth shut if I didn't knock it off, but I'd stop his complaints by stifling them with kisses.

Holy Hera. What kind of mess have I gotten into now? How the heck am I supposed to talk to Nico and keep a straight face? How can I ever look at Will Solace again without wanting to smack sense into his happy-go-lucky face?

I rest my forehead on my arms, crossed over my knees, my back to the wall. It's going to be a long night and there's no way I'm leaving this room until I regain my composure. I'll need to check in with Chiron and Mr. D and secure permission to be at camp, probably give them an idea of how long I'm planning to stay. There's no way I can have that conversation now. Best to just lie low and wait for morning.

XxxX

It's been a very long week. I managed to get through the conversation with the camp directors unscathed, but Chiron had noticed my joints and back were stiff (from sleeping sitting up on the cold bathroom floor all night) and had insisted I visit the infirmary for an evaluation.

Of course, it had been Will Solace on duty when I walked in, and, just as I feared, I had to work hard at keeping my cool and trying not to slap his sunny disposition right off.

Smug son of Apollo, he diagnosed me straight off the bat.

"This is about Nico, isn't it?" Will asked.

"What are you even talking about, Solace? Why would you think ..." My heart had started beating crazy fast when I recalled Nico's face. How he'd just accepted that it was over, didn't make any demands, didn't show his usual spark. I glared at Solace. It'd struck me as odd to think that such a laid back guy would pull this sort of shit with a partner, but it was also easier for me to handle my own emotions to be able to blame somebody else.

"Uh," Will had said. "Are you saying that it isn't? Come on, Grace. Level with me." I don't know how the heck the Apollo campers do it, it's almost like charmspeak, but his level voice and reasonable questions threw me off my game and I opened right up and told him all about what I'd witnessed the night before.

"You know, Jason," he'd said. "Nico and I aren't ... 'together' in the sense you seem to expect. It's really more like an arrangement of convenience. He doesn't want anything more from me; I've offered. Believe me. He sets the rules we play by and I go along with it. When he wants to alter the terms, he says so."

As I looked into Will's pale blue eyes, I could read his earnestness. He spoke the truth, and it still didn't make sense to me. "But ..." I paused to prevent myself from stammering, working out what I was trying to say, "... why don't you have a say in things? Don't you appreciate how much honor he's showing you? That he trusts you to this level, is amazing. It's something that should be treasured."

Will gave me a crooked smile. His eyes looked weary. "Jason, I don't have time for a relationship right now. Not a real one. When I'm not seeing patients in here, I'm studying. My days are so long, I barely manage to get enough sleep so I won't pass out on duty. I mean, if Nico wanted more from me, I'd figure something out, or try to, but he really doesn't. He checks in and makes sure I'm eating, and when he's frustrated, he'll haul me away from my books and insist I smell like I'm festering in my own filth from forgetting to shower. We'll fool around and get clean and then he takes what he wants and I give it to him. And then we go back to the daily grind." He tilted his head, looking at me as if he was reading my inner struggle from a new perspective. "If you are interested in going after Nico, if you think you can give him what he needs or whatever it is that's going on in your head, you should talk to him about it. I promise not to say a word to anybody, even Nico. But this ..." he makes a random gesture that sort of encompasses my angst from my head to my feet, "... issue, you have. It's not going to go away on its own. And if you consider Nico your friend, you'll trust him enough to confess you're messed up a bit about him. Let him make the call whether or not he wants to help you work it out. You think?"

So that's what brings me to where I'm at - wiping the sweat from my forehead after a sparring demonstration with Nico, and waiting for him to finish up the sword-fighting lesson he's teaching to a group of campers.

All week I've kept telling myself I'll follow Solace's advice, that I'll pull Nico aside to a place we won't be overheard and tell him what I think about him, what I'd really like us to become. He's already sussed out that Piper and I have split up and he seemed to accept that I didn't want to talk about it. Truth is, I don't need to talk about it anymore. Or maybe I do, but it hasn't been on my mind at all. I'm more focused on not letting Nico catch me checking him out. I've been brooding a lot over what happened in Split, with some of the things Favonius had said to me. I swear that god canactually read minds and had read my feelings for Nico before I even realized they existed.

I sit on the steps of the arena, next to the drinks cooler and grab myself a coke. I stare at the can, running over Favonius's words in my head again and again, looking for clues or truth or something. The fact the words have burned themselves into my brain tells me there's something important about them, something I have to figure out.

Oh, he's not like that.

You can read my mind?

I don't need to. Everyone has the wrong impression of Cupid ... until they meet him.

He hadn't denied that he had read my mind, or at least had the ability to do so. I consider the facts as I turn the can of soda over in my hands, following the white swirly pattern. The tone of his voice when he'd addressed me the next time, the way it sounded amused, curious. Like he was a teacher watching me, waiting to see how long it would take for me to catch on to the subject he was teaching. Yes, Jason Grace. I fell in love with a dude. Does that shock you? I wonder if he was really asking if it shocked me, of all people, since he could see that I had clearly had feelings for a guy at some point before. Maybe even Nico.

"Alright, Grace. Spill."

Nico's voice breaks my concentration. I look up, his dark eyes pinning me in place, holding me captive.

"Huh? What?" I ask. I try to shake the thoughts out of my brain, or at least, knock them back a few paces so I can act normal, but they've grown so dense, they don't budge.

"You've been acting odd all week. Every time I see you, you duck your eyes, or make up something stupid to say and expect me to find it funny. I recognize a diversion when I see one. What the Styx is the matter with you lately? Why are you treating me different?"

I stare at him, seriously unable to move. Even my tongue feels like it's turning to stone. I want to be able to spill the truth and trust that Nico will still want to be my friend, but fear paralyzes me. What if he doesn't want to hear it? What if the very idea of me thinking of him like I do offends him?

He narrows his eyes, sizing me up. My heart bottoms out, and I try to prepare myself for another rejection, even if he doesn't grasp that is what he's doing. But instead, he sweeps his eyes over the empty arena seats, and the field full of campers gathering their gear before turning back to me again. "Right," he says. "It's too open to have a heart to heart out here. Meet me in my cabin after curfew and we'll get this ..." he makes an odd face, like he's not sure whether I'm his friend or an alien from another planet, "... weirdness out of the way so we can talk like normal again. I don't like it when my friends start changing without cluing me in, capiche?"

I nod. My head feels like it's put on fifty pounds. But when Nico smirks at me, then turns around and gives me a sideways wave as he returns to the field, hope breaks out under my skin. It tingles like electric wavelengths up and down my body, pulsing to the same pace as the sway of Nico's hips. I have to force myself to look away.

End Part 1/2 - I'll have part two posted later this month. It got marked private for smut content and I don't have time to go through and tone it down right now. You can find the uncensored version on Ao3. I'm Queenie_Mab there and this fic is part 35 of my series titled: PJO ficlets and oneshots.