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sincerelyhecate · 7 months

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have you seen my glasses? (they're on your head, dummy)

Title: have you seen my glasses? (they're on your head, dummy)

Pairing: Jason Grace/Percy Jackson

Length: 3.1k words

You can also read this on AO3.

∘◦ ☆ ◦∘

"Bro, have you seen my glasses?"

A shadow casts itself over the red glow that Percy sees underneath his closed eyelids, and he flutters his eyes open in a squint to find Jason looming over him, his broad frame blocking the sunlight he's been bathing in. Jason’s eyebrows are knitted together in a frown as he stares Percy down; a telltale sign of his annoyance with the fact that he ‘lost’ his glasses again.

The object in question, unsurprisingly, is nestled on his blond hair, the afternoon light glinting off the frames' metallic sheen as if screaming at everyone who cares that they're right there—just like they normally would, whenever he throws the question at Percy.

Percy sighs, all too used to this modus operandi. It’s happened so many times—often enough that he's already memorized the script of Jason's ploy by heart—that he can only arrive at this conclusion: Jason Grace is a terrible flirt.

Nothing's wrong with that, of course. Jason can remain as bad in the flirting department as he wants, since he'd unfailingly and unwittingly charm his victims all the same. Percy is just unfortunate enough to be one of them.

"Dude, this is the third time this week, and it's only Wednesday!" he replies, as per their usual script.

Jason rolls his eyes in faux exasperation. "Sorry, mom. I swear I never do it on purpose. I think someone's trying to bully me."

“Pfft.” He can't help laughing a little at the ridiculous notion. "Nobody in their right mind would ever dare to bully a fully grown son of Zeus, my good man."

"Well, I can think of a few names off the top of my head," Jason solemnly replies, giving him a meaningful side-eye.

He brushes off the implied accusation by giving Jason an eye-roll of his own. While he may have been a repeat offender in concocting harmless shenanigans with the others to tease Jason, those can hardly be called 'bullying'. He prefers the term 'tough love' instead, since he's always done it with the purest intention of making Jason laugh, and it worked—every single time!

Not to mention he'd never steal Jason's glasses while his bro isn’t looking; he'd just grab it off his face like a real man.

He props himself up to sit upright just as Jason makes himself comfortable by sitting down cross-legged next to him, their movements choreographed to perfection by this same old dance. Like the mom friend he is, Jason wastes no time patting off the stray blades of grass clinging onto Percy's head and back, and Percy’s heart squeezes at the palpable gentleness behind his casual fussiness. It prompts the muscles on his face to form a helpless grin, even though he’s trying hard to keep his face straight to match the dire, serious look on Jason’s own.

"Bedside table?"

"First place I checked."

"On top of the head of your dad's statue?"

Jason doesn't even pause at the incredulous suggestion, because it's actually happened once—courtesy of Leo. "Nope. I still can't believe Leo wasn't zapped from that."

"Did you ask anyone else before coming to me? Because I'd be truly offended if I'm being singled out as the prime suspect again."

Jason narrows his eyes at him. "That's already suspicious of you, but okay,” he comments with pursed lips, before throwing his head back and sighing in exhaustion, like he’s already gone round the entire camp to ask everyone else before seeing Percy.

“You won't believe this, but I think the others are already sick of me asking for their help—”

“Truly believable, and wholly understandable.”

“—as if I’m doing it on purpose! I’ve asked a grand total of three people before coming here—”

“Wow, I guess that really makes up the whole camp.”

“—first was Nico, who told me to stop being stupid." Jason starts counting the people in question with his fingers like they’re worth counting at all; always so animated with his hand gestures when talking to Percy.

“I guess he has a point,” Percy sing-songs. Jason ignores him.

"Next was Leo, who suggested I do a cartwheel in case they'd appear out of thin air," he continues, shaking his head as if their impish friend was out of his mind for suggesting that, as he extends two fingers out from his balled fist.

“Ooh, he’s onto something, I think.” Jason ignores him still, and Percy can no longer try to hide his grin.

"And lastly Piper, who told me I should go look for you instead,” Jason finishes, showing Percy his three fingers pointedly.

Percy gestures to himself in faux confusion as if to say me?, mustering up a surprised face he can only hope to be convincing. The quirk in his lips is definitely not helping.

Unimpressed, Jason clears his throat and inquires, like he’s conducting an interrogation, “So, basing off all the clues I’ve gathered and one strong insinuation from Miss McLean, I will ask you once again: have you seen my glasses, Percy?"

Oh, Percy is so intimately familiar with the finer details of Jason's flirting scheme at this point. The guy would conveniently ask other people first, sure, but one way or another, he'd always end up finding Percy as the last resort, which is enough indication on its own. Piper was insinuating nothing; knowing her, she’s probably just playing along.

Jason has all but invaded Percy's personal space then, the tips of their noses almost touching each other as he leans in a little too close due to his poor eyesight. The way his face pleads with Percy is not unlike that of a golden retriever, and Percy feels a strong urge to pat his head to appease him. Undeterred by those puppy eyes that would've worked on anyone else, he remains steadfast in their close proximity—only staring back in amusement in an impromptu staring contest.

And boy, is Jason one heck of a looker.

Recent years have certainly been kinder to his friend, Percy quietly notes, from the way he glows with contentment. His (stupid, kind, pretty) big blue eyes—widened imploringly at Percy—betray no lingering air of sadness like they did in the past. There’s an almost permanent quirk at one corner of his lips, like everything he sees these days is worth smiling about, and more often than not, Percy finds himself wanting to kiss it.

"I…" he deliberately stretches the vowel for needless suspense, "…really don't have them, sir! I think she’s just trying to get you out of her hair. As with the rest of them.”

"Goshdarnit,” Jason whines, flopping down onto the grass like the drama queen he is. He grumbles, “I hate wearing glasses."

Percy chuckled at the sulk in Jason’s voice. He lies down on his side to face Jason, admiring the gentle curves of his side-profile. How is a man this gorgeous has the disposition of a silly old man sometimes? It’s unbelievably charming. "Never mind that. Has anyone ever told you how cute you are?"

Jason turns to face him and raises an eyebrow at the sudden question, glasses still miraculously fixed in place. His scar is a pale line adorning his unfairly pink mouth as he chews on it in thought; probably deliberating what to make of Percy’s attempt at a compliment. It almost disappears when a benign smile then slowly graces his lips, and Percy resists the urge to trace his finger on it. It probably feels soft to the touch.

A familiar feeling of protectiveness surges through his body whenever Jason smiles at him like this. He would do anything; give anything; fight anything to prevent that smile from ever waning. Sure, they each have Titans included in their body counts, and had even toppled giants together, but there's just something inherently precious to Jason that Percy believes is worth protecting. Partly because of the not-so-platonic feeling he harbors for the guy, mostly because Jason is one of his dearest friends.

But of course, his friend doesn't need to know that just yet.

"I will mind that, thank you very much. I need my glasses to see, you see?" Jason deadpans, breaking his train of thought.

"...I guess I kinda do?"

“Exactly. And to answer your question," Jason informs him with a smug grin, "I hear that at least ten times a week. Twenty if Sis is coming over. Coming from you though, I feel like you're only saying it to make fun of me."

"Hey, I'm just being honest! You're adorable as heck," he coos, pinching one soft cheek and enjoying Jason’s surprised wince.

"'Heck'," Jason teases, like Percy didn't get that from the guy who prefers to say 'dummy' instead of 'dumbass' or 'frick' instead of 'fuck'. "I'd prefer you call me handsome instead. Or gorgeous. Dashing works too. At least it won't sound like you're looking down on me."

"Gods, I'd never look down on you. You know that," Percy protests, only half-heartedly because he knows Jason is just pulling his leg. "But fine, you gorgeous stud."

"Thanks. I guess you're not so shabby yourself."

Percy scoffs and nudges Jason’s shoulder playfully with his hand, relishing the way his friend laughs sweetly in return. Jason's laughter is a lovely breathy sound, like the hilarity has punched the wind out of him. It's one of Percy's most favorite sounds ever; something he’s discovered as they got closer and closer over the years. He wants to hear it all the time if he can.

They've already gone off the tangent of the initial topic—a usual occurrence when they start complimenting each other like it's a competitive sport. Percy thinks it’s fine, since it’s pretty much coming from his own heart, and he’s not above using flattery to make his friend feel good about himself. After all, while Jason might be the terrible flirt, Percy can’t deny that he’s already down bad for the guy.

Perhaps today will be the day he gives in. They've been playing this push-and-pull game long enough, he thinks. Danced around this ambiguous thing between them—only for it to amount to nothing—a little too many times for his liking. In all honesty, it's reaching a point where he's starting to feel bad for ignoring Jason’s advances, so he might as well give in this time. Especially when he knows he wants it as much as Jason does.

Realizing that it's his cue to resume their script, he offers, "I can tell you where they are, though."

"Ha! Solid attempt to divert my attention there, you flatterer. Piper was right: you do have them!"

He ignores Jason's accusation—that was way too ecstatic to be convincing—and instructs, "Pat your head and say, 'Thank you, Percy.'"

"Ha-ha. I already patted my head at least three times and found noth—Oh!" Even as Jason grumbles at his suggestion, he still does as Percy has asked. Ever the indulgent friend, so willing to humor Percy even if he thinks it’s all for naught. Though in this case, it is his intention to get Percy to point that out in the first place, so Percy's the one indulging here, really.

Percy watches on as a familiar scene unfolds before him like the hundred times it did before: Jason's face gradually turning sheepish as he feels the offending object lying innocently on his head, puppy eyes intensifying and red coloring his cheeks.

He arches an eyebrow in an unamused look. “Tsk, tsk. Classic Jason.”

"...I swear on Juno's name, Percy, I patted my head several times before looking for them elsewhere!"

He pulls a tuft of grass off the ground, making sure the disdain in his voice is audible. "And you were so quick to accuse me too."

"I told you I asked three other people before you! Sorry if I sound accusatory, but I'd almost always find them when I'm with you."

He throws the tuft on Jason’s face. "Yeah, like it's my fault you'd find them on your head every time."

Jason pouts as he stubbornly counters, "I mean, you could be secretly putting them on me when I wasn't looking."

"Dude, you had your eyes on me the entire time." In such a lovesick gaze too, you unsubtle dork.

"…Right." Jason looks appropriately sorry after he takes the time to ponder on that. His petulant pout turns remorseful before he mumbles, "Sorry, man."

Like clockwork. He’s lucky Percy likes him.

"I'll forgive you…" Percy says, pushing himself up to sit. He smirks as he drops the bomb Jason has been waiting for after all this time; the new plot twist to their old script, "…if you pick a good place to eat for our date."

He throws a side glance Jason's way to find him gaping like a fish, as if he's genuinely surprised. Jason scrambles to sit up as well, shaking his head in confusion. He's pretty good at acting, Percy will give him that. "Sorry, did you just say…for our date?"

"Yep! And I'm expecting you to pay for our meal."

His friend is now blinking rapidly at him, like he’s not at all prepared for this sudden development. “Our meal…for our date?”

“Yes, Jason Grace. For our date,” Percy confirms, wondering if the guy’s poor brain has short-circuited from knowing his efforts have finally paid off. That’s actually pretty cute if true. “Dress code is anything blue, white or black. No formal wear or I’ll dump water on you so you’d go change.”

“Oh. I—Um.” Wow, that’s a really impressive act of flabbergasting if Percy ever sees one. He looks on expectantly as Jason makes a show of putting himself together, recovering quickly enough to say with a little shrug, “I…am a little confused, but alright. I’m down!”

Even underneath all his pretense of having no idea what’s going on, his elation at Percy’s invitation (that should’ve been his in the first place) is very much genuine. Percy’s heart curiously flipped at the sight of Jason beaming at him in earnest now; as if he’s only been expecting to find his glasses out of this, and is pleasantly surprised he's ended up with something better.

“Sure, man,” he humors him with a shit-eating grin of his own. It’s fine if Jason refuses to let up; Percy has already decided to play along for as long as he wants anyway. He’ll even pretend he hasn’t seen right through him after everything, if his buddy needs his dignity intact later on. He’s a gentleman like that.

"Uh, just to confirm, is this a friendship kinda date where we just grab a meal together or a—"

Gods help me. Percy shuts him up with a kiss on his cheek, feeling giddy at the way Jason's smile grows dopier and his cheeks flush redder.

"Nah, it's the boyfriends kinda date," he assures Jason, hooking an index finger into the thin wire between the lenses of his glasses and deftly slides them down to properly settle on the bridge of his nose. The contrast from when Jason transforms from hot supermodel to precious super-nerd is oddly endearing. “I’ll pick you up at 6. Stay in your cabin until I come; we don’t want you to go losing your glasses again.”

The chuckle rumbling deep in Jason’s chest is like music to Percy’s ears as he regards him with a quizzical smile, head tilting like Percy's the most extraordinary thing he's ever seen. “Yessir.”

It turns out Jason has actually been bullied. Or pranked, whichever term fits the situation better.

Some children of Hermes, in an unlikely collaboration with some children of Hecate and a certain son of Hephaestus, had thought it was funny to see Jason, head counselor of Cabin One and a 6’2” adult man, bumbling his way around camp without his glasses—by making the thing visible to anyone but him. Heeding the advice of a certain daughter of Aphrodite, they made sure to materialize the glasses on his head again once he reached Percy for help. Whether Jason is mad at being made into a joke—or whether Percy is, at being tricked into thinking it’s his poor bro’s attempt at wooing him—is a story for another day.

Right now, and more importantly, they have a date to enjoy. One they're both looking forward to, after everything that went down between them.

Percy is still trying to fix his hair to go for an artfully messy do when someone knocks on the door to Cabin Three, approximately ten minutes before their agreed time.

Someone’s awfully excited, he muses as he opens the door to find Jason looking his most charming yet—his blond hair slicked back like a movie star's, his attire consisting of a baby blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up around his veiny forearms; white slim-fit chinos that showcase his sexy thighs; and a pair of loafers—teetering on the fine line between formal and smart casual. His glasses, thankfully, are perched safely on his face. He wears a shy smile as Percy appraises his look, blissfully unaware of how hot Percy has gotten all over his own skin.

“I’m not losing to you,” Percy says before slamming the door back in his date’s face.

“Hey!”

“Come in, you infuriatingly hot and annoyingly hunky absolute dork.”

“Bro, I don’t really get the things you say sometimes,” Jason quips as he steps inside the cabin, voice shaky with mirth, “but right now, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Whatever, man,” Percy says as he finishes throwing on his outfit of the evening: a tight-fitting shirt that shows off his lean figure nicely; a leather jacket to put on Jason when the night gets colder later on; jeans that snugly wraps around his butt for his date’s viewing pleasure; and his best pair of boots. He wagers they'd make quite the sight standing next to each other—not as friends but as each other’s dates for a change—and the thought warms him all over.

Jason whistles appreciatively as Percy twirls around for him. "Shall we?" he asks as they step outside, extending his arm out—the one with the SPQR tattoo seared onto his skin as a child, matching Percy's own—for Percy to cling onto, ever the gentleman. Percy pushes him playfully at the (admittedly sweet) gesture before taking his clammy hand instead, leading the way and unable to stop the slight skip in his own steps as they head towards the borders of the camp where Blackjack is waiting.

Whether they kiss sweetly underneath the faint moonlight just outside the fancy-schmancy gelato shop, tummies satiated with dessert and hearts full of mutual affection, followed by Percy stealing Jason’s glasses before taking off in a run, is also a story for another day.

#jercy #jasercy #jason grace #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo #key writes #3.1k

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sincerelyhecate · 3 months

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you (hit me with a broom and) set my heart ablaze

Title: you (hit me with a broom and) set my heart ablaze (chapter 8)

Pairing: Jason Grace/Percy Jackson

Length: 11.5k words

You can also read this on AO3.

∘◦ ☆ ◦∘

Though he belonged amongst the living, Nico had always exuded a ghostly aura that did little to set him apart from the rest of the spectral inhabitants of the castle. It gave him a slight advantage of being stealthier than most students; a quirk that he’d utilise to tail after rulebreakers during his patrol rounds before catching them in the act, and also to jump Percy just for the fun of it.

One evening, just as Percy was about to descend down the stairs leading to the dungeons, he was ambushed by the boy, not unlike how a ghost would scare off its unlucky victim. As if he was materialising from the shadows themselves, Nico suddenly popped out of thin air to corner Percy into the wall, nearly scaring the living daylights out of him.

“Ahhh!” he screeched a little too unmanly for his liking, clutching his heart that had almost escaped his chest in fright. In his defence, his guard was down by quite a bit after one exceptionally tiring session of Quidditch practice; only the thoughts of his fluffy four-poster and a good night's sleep had kept his legs walking. “Nico! Would it be so bad to say hello first? Maybe a little ‘How are you’ on the side?”

Nico wasted no time to get to his point. “Let Hufflepuff win this upcoming match.”

“…Oh?” A grin sneaked its way onto Percy’s face. “Didn’t know you care this much about Quidditch. But isn’t this a bit too…unprofessional? What happened to sportsmanship, mate?”

“It’s gonna be Hazel’s first official match against you. Seeker vs Seeker. We barely won against Ravenclaw last time. Don’t you think you should go easy on her?”

Ah. So this was Nico on Brother Bear’s mode. A side of him that would surface only once in a blue moon amidst his usual sharp-edged exterior, and one Percy was really fond of because it’s a testament of how gooey Nico was on the inside.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t quite appreciate the idea that he had to deliberately give Hazel the upper hand when she was already a capable Seeker on her own. It would’ve been an insult to both of their prowesses as respectable Quidditch players. And, if you’d ever think of holding yourself back in a match, you’d sooner find yourself better off not playing at all, because you’d only drag the rest of your teammates down.

He remembered having the time of his life practising together with Hazel when they met over the summer—on a special invitation to their luxurious mansion from Hades himself, alongside good ol’ Frank—and was blown away by how good she was despite being a late bloomer in flying.

Her case was an almost perfect reflection of his own, when he thought about it. Back then, he just couldn’t help but see himself in her when she shakily rode the latest Firebolt model with unshakable will, and was thus determined to help her ease into the role of the great Seeker she’s destined to be. To be proud was an understatement when he found out she made it to the Hufflepuff’s team.

“I don’t think so, mate.”

Shivers ran down his spine when Nico narrowed his eyes in a razor-sharp stare. “I thought you loved her like your own sister?”

“Without a doubt! But I don’t think she’d appreciate it if you do this, even if it’s for her sake. In fact, she’d think that you’re just undermining her abilities, and would probably kick your arse the next time she sees you.”

“I am not undermining her. I just so happen to intimately know all about you Slytherin snakes’ cheating tendencies and general buffoonery when playing. I’ve seen how especially barbaric your Beaters are, the bats should’ve been confiscated from their possessions by now if the school has any common sense. Hence, I need to make sure to drill into your thick skulls to play nicely around her, or else someone would end up in the hospital wing—and it’s not gonna be her.”

“Merlin, Nico. You can be so dramatic sometimes. Every Quidditch player has to have their own run-in with a Bludger at least once, you know? It’s practically a rite of passage for us.”

“You know what’s another rite of passage? A Stinging Jinx to your arse right this instant.”

Before Nico’s threat could come to fruition, Percy’s arse was saved by Nakamura passing by. The temperature in the corridor dropped by several degrees as hostility unwittingly leaked out of himself at the sight of the Captain. While Jason, bless his golden heart, had forgiven the bloke long ago, Percy found it easier to hold a grudge instead.

Not one to poke the bee’s nest unprovoked, Nakamura trod away without as much of a glance at them.

“Still petty, I see,” Nico said, throwing a knowing smirk at him once the prat was out of their sight. Percy shrugged in reply, finding no fault in his statement.

“You know how I am, Neeks. I’m nothing if not running on pettiness.”

“And cringe,” Nico added, nodding solemnly in agreement. “How do you even handle rooming with him?”

“Oh, that’s easy. We just pretend the other doesn’t exist.”

“And somehow I’m the dramatic one.”

“The most dramatic of them all,” Percy confirmed brightly, reaching out a hand to ruffle those fluffy black curls. With perfected movement, Nico’s hand slapped his own away before he could even touch a strand.

Unfazed, he continued, “I like how protective you could be sometimes, but don’t worry too much, okay? Hazel’s a tough lass. And really, how does that add up to your demand of letting Hufflepuff win in the first place? You could’ve just told me to keep on my toes around her.”

“Eh, it’s worth a try,” Nico waved a dismissive hand. “You know how thorough I am in everything I do.”

“And somehow I’m the one who got Sorted into Slytherin.”

“It fits you,” Nico shrugged. “You’re the snakiest of them all, Jackson. Dunno what Jason sees in you at all.”

“He sees the one and only man for him, thank you very much. Now run along, you sly bugger. I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

Like the bugger he truly was, Nico aimed a kick at his shin before disappearing into the shadows once more.

Two days before the fated Slytherin vs Hufflepuff match, Percy had a slight premonition that something was about to happen. Something decidedly eerie, but not sinister enough to keep him on his toes and anticipate anything disastrous. Shaking off the slight chill he felt on his skin, he continued going on his merry way in search of his boyfriend with the usual paper bag in hand.

After about twenty minutes of scouring the castle, he spotted Jason walking alone in a courtyard right outside the east wing. The usually hardened lines of his figure were relaxed somewhat, translating themselves into something soft and fluffy to mirror his languid pace and loosened posture. He looked like he's in desperate need of a hug (or maybe it's just Percy who did), and Percy knew exactly how to fix that.

“Ah—Percy?” Jason exclaimed, the epitome of adorableness as his voice took an excited lilt when he registered Percy’s presence from the surprise back hug.

“Your one and only,” Percy confirmed, aware of how sickly sweet his own voice was. This romance business was downright stupid, if it wasn’t so damn addicting. “Where are you off to?”

“Just on my way back to the Tower.” Jason noticed the bag in his hand. As if he couldn’t get any cuter, his smile widened and his blue eyes twinkled in child-like exuberance. Sally’s homemade cookies just had that magical effect on anyone. “Is that what I think it is?”

“It is, with one extra thing.” Raising the bag to let Jason have a better look, Percy tried to tamper the nervousness bubbling in his guts. “I’d like you to wear it to my next match.”

“Is that…? Oh, Percy.” Jason was now bouncing on the balls of his feet, face glowing with excitement. Just like a golden retriever, both in temperament and preciousness. Retrieving the item from the bag, he inspected it carefully before surmising, “I think it’s going to look a little tight on me.”

It’s Percy’s spare Quidditch jersey, with the words ‘JACKSON 7’ printed in silver on the green fabric of the back. Since they’ve made it a (very late) tradition to attend each other’s match sporting the other’s team colours, Percy thought it’d be nice to take things a step further.

A small part of him had anticipated Jason’s rejection over the idea. After all, their Houses had been bitter rivals ever since the falling out of their founders. Therefore, it would’ve been completely understandable if Jason had shown any sign of reluctance. Not because it’s Slytherin in particular, but because of the repercussions that were soon to follow from the other Gryffindors.

Because he’s the best boyfriend ever, Jason looked totally onboard. Just like Percy had hoped. Giddiness filled him from head to toe; he finally had the chance to see Jason in his clothes for the first time ever. The thought sent a deluge of warmth and happiness crashing in waves all over his body, and despite how dramatic this would sound, he really hoped he’d make it out alive when Jason would wear it on the day of the match.

“So, er…w-would you wear it, then?” he asked, cursing himself inwardly for stuttering.

“I’d love to, Percy,” Jason replied with a pleased sigh.

Then, with no regard to Percy’s poor heart, he bundled the jersey in his hands before burying his face in it, as if to heave in Percy’s lingering scent. He seemed to realise what he did a little too late when his eyes widened in shock over his own action, immediately removing the article of clothing off his nose just in time to see Percy’s flabbergasted face.

As they stared at each other with equally surprised faces, Percy thought, ah, it’s already so hopeless now.

There’s so sugar-coating it: he was now so pathetically in love, he’s beyond saving. In fact, he didn’t want to be saved. Jason was out to get him, hitting him at his weakest spot in rapid succession with his precious existence, and Percy’s masochistic arse wanted him to do it again and again until his own heart was a battered thing lying on the ground in pure unadulterated bliss.

Before Jason could stammer out an unnecessary excuse, Percy gathered his boyfriend in a frantic hug and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. “Merlin, you’re so fucking adorable, Jason. One of these days, you’re going to be the absolute death of me. Merlin.”

“I’d rather you not die at all,” Jason muttered, his face still burning red from embarrassment. “How embarrassing! Acting like an absolute troll, sniffing your clothes like that. I’m really sorry—”

Percy shut him up with another kiss, a tad deeper this time. Jason hummed in surprised delight against his lips. When their mouths broke apart, his boyfriend was already smiling again.

“I’ve got no clue why you feel the need to feel sorry, Jason. I’m happy you like it that much,” he said easily, wrapping his arms around Jason’s waist and swaying both of them around joyously to demonstrate his point. “Feels like there’s no other choice but to win the game now.”

Jason, sweet lovely Jason, went along with the impromptu little dance, and Percy relished the deep rumble of his chest as he chuckled deeply. “I’ll be counting on you for that, darling. I’ll be cheering you on as loud as I can.”

Darling.

The pet name Jason had exclusively claimed for him filled his heart with so much love, he’s afraid he’d physically float away into the endless sky with the joy it sparked. It was so tender in the way Jason had said it; a perfect expression of his affections in a manner only his lovely lips and wonderful tongue could deliver. It was music to Percy’s ears.

Percy couldn’t care less that he’s sounding a bit overconfident then. He’d do anything to make sure that smile stayed in place. “I promise I’ll make you proud, baby. We’ve seen the way Hufflepuff played; I’m feeling very optimistic.”

Though it might’ve just been his imagination, he thought he’d seen Jason hesitate, just for a fraction of a millisecond. As Jason blinked owlishly at his pompous declaration, there was a minute twitch to his elegant brows that suggested an impending furrow, but it was gone before Percy knew it. And before he could think too hard on it, Jason distracted him with another sweet peck to the lips.

In the end, Percy failed to make good of his promise.

Which was hilarious, because until the commentator had announced that the match was over, he had thought he was unstoppable.

On Jason’s side of the bargain, he’d fulfilled his promise to wear Percy’s jersey to the match, and had even stopped by the Slytherin’s changing room for a good luck kiss. At the sight, Percy had nearly combusted on the spot. Jason in his clothes, sporting his name on the back, announcing to anyone who’d care to notice that he belonged to Percy…let’s just say only the impending match had stopped Percy from dragging him away for a grand time of snogging.

In the end, it was all for naught. His team had lost the match against Hufflepuff. Spectacularly.

He was convinced that it had all been his fault, but his ego demanded that he keep his head straight and out of the gutter. Hell would freeze over before he showed any signs of weakness in front of Nakamura of all people. The Captain who was, thankfully, still adamant with his cold war campaign against him, thus was smart enough to spare him the usual scathing criticism.

What had actually gone wrong? Percy wracked his brain for the answer but came up empty.

Was it the weather? It was sufficiently pleasant; specks of clouds dotted the blue sky to provide enough shade while still allowing near-perfect visibility. The wind was ideal for flying, blowing all over the pitch in the form of a cool and gentle breeze.

Was it his performance? He was sure he was in top form; there had been no prominent sign of discomfort or fatigue from practising too hard at the start of the game. Even now, his body was still buzzing in adrenaline, not feeling any physical strain so much as his mental one.

Was it their performance as a team? Objectively, Slytherin had boasted the superior team that day; they’d been ahead in points compared to Hufflepuff during the entirety of the match. They could’ve easily won in terms of Quaffle scoring alone.

And, even with the knowledge that Jason was wearing his jersey, he hadn’t looked hard enough in the spectators’ stands for it to be a distraction. In fact, he’d been the most focused for this match.

There was only one anomaly that turned the tides of the game in favour of their opponents: the Snitch completely disappearing on Percy all throughout the game and, as if it had a mind of its own, presented itself to Hazel like it was a prized offering and she was a queen.

His mind was a whirlwind as he tried to take stock of the reality, distracting him enough from the gloomy atmosphere descending upon the rest of his teammates. His heart felt mostly empty, like any sort of emotion he should’ve been feeling was sucked out and into the stifling air.

The Hufflepuffs, bless their considerate souls, were moderately celebrating on the sidelines far away from them, hugging and jumping and patting each others’ backs from the euphoria of their victory.

“Percy! Good game,” Hazel’s voice greeted him, and he belatedly registered her presence right in front of him. From her genial smile, he could tell that she was holding back from getting too celebratory in case she’d hurt his feelings, which was utterly ridiculous of an idea. As the victor, she had every right to.

He hugged her on auto-pilot, ignoring the awful sensation of his teammates’ bitter scowls. She hugged back just as fiercely, equally unbothered by the rest of the world. Gulping down the knot stuck in his too-tight throat, he managed to muster a smile he hoped was genuine enough. He didn’t want to make it look like he’s not happy for her, because he ultimately was. It’s just that the pang of losing was still so fresh. “You did fabulous, Hazel! I’m proud of you. Congratulations.”

“I can’t believe it!” she finally gushed, taking the cue to really express herself after Percy’s tacit approval. What an angel. “I’ve already won two times in a row for my very first season! Looks like your training regiment really paid off.”

That, plus something entirely different. Frustratingly, he still couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “It really did! I can’t wait to see what’s in store for you. Who knows, maybe you’ll get to hold the Cup for your very first season?”

She tilted her head, unconvinced. “That remains to be seen. You’re still better than me by a long shot—”

“Hazel—”

“—and I know you’ll compensate for today's loss with a glorious victory against Ravenclaw, alright?” Her smaller hands sought his own to grip them in reassurance.

He couldn’t answer in affirmative, because didn’t he just lose a game he was so confident he’d win? Didn’t he just unfairly underestimate her?

“You were amazing just now, Percy,” Hazel pressed on. “I spent most of the time just watching you soaring all over the pitch instead of Seeking because you’re so godly on your broomstick. So really, if I wasn’t so lucky, you would’ve won by a landslide.”

“Don’t say that. You won fair and square, and you should be proud of it.” From the corner of his peripheral vision, a familiar precious face came into view. “Oh, look, Jason’s here. You go and celebrate with your team now.”

“Okay, lover boy. See you around!” With another quick hug to him and a friendly nod to Jason, she hurried off towards the gathering Hufflepuffs who were now chanting her name with vigour, her brown-golden curls bouncing along with her happy steps.

Jason’s strong arms were open and waiting as Percy crashed into his embrace. They enveloped him so lovingly, readily providing a sanctuary he could call his own. Between his earlier bravado, the misplaced confidence that their victory was a guarantee, and even making his boyfriend wear his own jersey when he'd lost in the end, it was like a nail to the coffin enclosing his already fraying self-composure.

For the first time that evening, his emotions got the best of him. Hot tears began to pool in his eyes despite his personal reservations against crying. He buried his face in Jason’s neck as if to hide from the rest of the world, trying to focus on that wonderful scent just to calm himself down, to steer his mind away from the bitter reality.

It helped, but barely just. He still couldn’t stop the sob tearing out of his throat. “J-Jason, I lost…”

“Hm. But you did your best, Percy, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it? The odds were just too stacked against you.”

They were?

“I don’t care, hick, about the odds,” he blubbered, hating every second of him struggling to get his words out. “I only care about making you proud, hick, and I f-failed!”

“What? Darling, I’d still be proud of you no matter what.” Jason’s long fingers carded through his hair in gentle repetitive motions. It did wonders to soothe his awful mood. “And it’s only your second match. Officially," he belatedly added, because it's technically Percy's third. "There’s still one more to go until we can secure the Cup.”

Percy buried his face further in reply, though the boulder crushing down on his chest had already begun to chip away as he took in Jason’s kind reassurance. There’s something beautiful about Jason addressing both of them together when he talked about attaining the honour of winning the season. Now that their own match against each other was a thing of the past, it felt like his victory had very much become Jason’s and vice versa, and it was a very heartening idea to immerse himself in.

…Not to mention his losses would also become Jason’s, but he’d rather do anything else than to dwell on that right now.

“Take a walk with me?” Jason asked him, and he removed his face from Jason to nod meekly, inwardly cringing at the tear stains on Jason’s shoulder. Unbothered, Jason wiped at his tear-streaked cheeks with the hem of his sleeve. His kind smile was a lantern in a sea of fog; a guiding light, as he led Percy out and away from the pitch by hand.

***

It turned out that wearing Percy’s jersey to the match was the most ingenious idea ever.

Despite smelling and feeling clean, it still retained Percy’s signature scent that only grew prominent the moment Jason put it on. He’d never felt so close to Percy while wearing it. It felt very much like Percy was giving him a hug all the time, as if the fabric was emulating his warm kisses and gentle touches against his skin. It went unsaid that Jason loved it very much, almost as much as he adored being held in Percy’s arms, to the point that he would, without even thinking, raise the neckline to his nose to take the occasional whiff, which would then send pleasant tingles travelling down his back.

Thanks to Piper and Leo flanking him in their seats in one of the Slytherin stands, he wasn’t too bothered by the blatant stares from the rest of the spectators, who were understandably perplexed by his sudden appearance amongst their ranks like a wild Bludger. In fact, he felt pride welling up in his chest instead. Just by donning the jersey bearing his boyfriend’s name had inspired an unfettered kind of vigour within him to cheer as loud as he could for Percy, not at all caring to mind his volume when the boy in question would perform a thrilling move like the aerial showman he was, holding everyone’s hearts captive all the while.

In the end, it was quite the pity that Percy had lost, but Jason was determined not to add to the damper on the already sullen mood. He found himself treading in new territory when the loss had actually driven Percy to tears; a side of his boyfriend he’d never seen nor expected. While it had caught him off-guard for a split second, he took it as an opportunity to be the one to lend his shoulder this time, happy he could provide the same pillar of support Percy had always offered him so readily.

They were strolling down the pathway near the Whomping Willow when Percy broke the heavy silence with a sigh. “Sorry you had to see me cry over something as stupid as losing.”

Jason halted in his tracks to pull Percy into another warm hug. It turned out Percy really needed that; he retreated into Jason’s embrace like it was the most natural thing to do, tucking his face into the crook of Jason’s neck without a second thought. Jason tightened his hold as he felt a forlorn sigh blowing against his jugular.

“How is it stupid to cry over losing a match?” Jason said softly. “That’s a big thing for us Quidditch players. You’d seen me cry over stupider things and told me not to feel ashamed about it. Take your own advice and don’t be so hard on yourself, alright?”

“You were crying over me, which could've been anything but stupid,” Percy countered petulantly, though the heat in his voice was doused by the glumness of his tone. He leaned back to peer at Jason, the white of his eyes still rimmed red. “At least it made me feel like I’m special to you.”

“I’d rather not have to shed tears just to tell you how much you mean to me,” Jason huffed, feeling his cheeks flush. With his thumb, he traced over the drying streaks on Percy’s cheek fondly. “And I’d also rather not see you cry because you’re afraid of disappointing me. You could never, darling. Especially when you’ve already done your best.”

His lips met Percy’s nose in a quick kiss. It instantly prompted a small smile to bloom in Percy’s face. So cute. It’s rather gratifying to learn how foolproof the gesture had proven to be every time he noticed Percy needed a pick-me-up. One peck on the nose in exchange for one happy boyfriend.

Now leading him by the hand, Percy veered off the pathway and plopped down dramatically onto his bum on the grass, pulling Jason down with him. “I can’t fight you on that. Merlin knows how hard I was looking for that accursed winged bollock. Maybe that’s why it stings a lot more, to see all my efforts paid off for nothing in the end.”

“Well, not to make light of your predicament in any way, but after watching two Hufflepuff matches now, I honestly think it’d take more than just effort to beat Hazel Levesque in Seeking."

All of a sudden, there was something turbulent brewing underneath Percy’s quiet voice. “…You’re not implying Hazel was cheating, are you?”

Jason felt his heart lurching at the accusation. “No! Merlin, not at all.” Where did that come from? “I don’t even think she knows about this, nor does she have a hand in it. Do you want to listen to my crazy theory about this?”

This time, Percy’s tone came out a little teasing. Thank Merlin. “You’re sitting in the stands concocting theories while I was out there fighting for my life?”

“I was multitasking! Which mainly consisted of cheering for you at the top of my lungs and analysing Hufflepuff’s gameplay on the side. I assure you the theory-concocting came afterwards.”

Much to his delight, Percy leaned his head on his shoulder and said, “Let’s hear it, then.”

***

“Alright. Ever noticed how the Snitch behaved every time Hazel’s playing? I voiced my thoughts about this once, back during the Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff match. It acted very peculiar back then, but I ultimately brushed it off as coincidence.”

“Didn’t you say it’d flown near her more often than not?”

“Yep. Not trying to diminish her skills in any way—she has more potential than any other rookie I’ve seen thus far—but it’s a little funny to see her looking for the Snitch in places that didn’t actually matter when the ball was near her all the time.”

“Wait,” Percy said, sceptical. “There’s no way she couldn’t have seen the Snitch then.”

“She could’ve, if she hadn’t been so busy tailing after you to find the Snitch. Maybe her strategy was to make you do the heavy lifting before snatching the thing from under your nose.”

Oh, Merlin. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book, and a strategy Percy had employed for quite a few times in his career. He didn’t know whether to feel proud or amused at how she’d followed his suggestions to a T. It could’ve worked if things had gone according to her plan; he was using an older version of the Nimbus, whilst Hades’ bottomless wealth had provided her with the latest Firebolt model. In terms of speed, she had the slightest bit of edge—not counting other factors like flying skills and friction.

“Maybe you’d been flying too far away,” Jason continued, his lips warm against Percy’s temple, “that you couldn’t hear me shouting at you to look her way even once. If only you’d seen the Snitch fluttering nearby before she did, we could’ve probably won against Hufflepuff.”

Ouch. Way to rub the salt into the wound there. “Okay, but that's just your observation. When does your theory come into play?”

“My theory is…” Jason paused slightly, either due to hesitation or for dramatic effect, “…she’s a Snitch magnet.”

“A Snitch magnet,” Percy repeated, feeling a little incredulous, trying to wrap his brain around the idea. Recalling back to Hufflepuff’s first match of the season, he pondered, “The Snitch had always flown a little too closely to her in the previous match. Was it acting similarly today?”

“It was, almost illogically so. It stayed within a ten-metre radius from her most of the time, though with all the stuff happening around the pitch—did you see how Nakamura flew into Gardner in a full-body slam? Nasty move, that was—uh, it would’ve been easy to miss.”

“…Right.” For some inexplicable reason, Percy’s chest felt lighter with the newfound knowledge. The nasty feeling of being the worst Seeker in the world began to dissipate. He could somehow identify it being the sheer relief of knowing that he, indeed, didn’t disappoint Jason in the way he’d thought, and belatedly realised that he’d played the match solely for Jason’s validation the entire time.

“Well, it still sucked that I couldn’t win for you, but at least we’d know how to handle Hazel next time,” Percy sniffed. He raised his head from Jason’s shoulder to admire that lovely side-profile. “Not trying to pressure you or anything, but please win your next match for me.”

“Not trying to make empty promises either, but I’d do my very best for you, darling. Always.”

Despite everything that happened, he found it so effortless to believe in Jason. Perhaps it’s because Jason was Quidditch reincarnated; one of the best players to ever grace the Cup’s illustrious history. Perhaps it’s also because Jason had never let him down. No matter the reason, Percy could somehow already taste the sweetness of Jason’s victory in his tongue.

They sat there in silence for a while longer, encased in their private little world, content to let everything bitter and sad embroiled within to seep out little by little, until only the things that mattered remained.

***

Please don’t ask me to give it back.

The unsaid words rushed through Jason’s head in a desperate mantra.

Please don’t ask me to give it back. Please don’t ask me to give it back. Please. Don’t. Ask. Me. To. Give. It. Back.

“Thanks for wearing my jersey today, Jason,” Percy said as soon as they reached the Entrance Hall, his tone no longer gloomy. It looked like their brief walk together worked like a charm, much to Jason’s relief. “You can give it back after dinner.”

“Please don’t ask me to give it back,” Jason blurted, before his brain could catch up on his words. “Ah! I-I mean, please allow me to keep it, er, at least until I clean it for you! It’s very bad manners if I don’t.”

Percy blinked owlishly at him, before an ever-so-familiar grin bloomed on his face. The one so charmingly mischievous, it’d always keep Jason on his toes. One of his eyebrows rose in mild amusement; the sign of an impending teasing. “You barely wore it for a few hours, though?”

Quick, brain! Formulate another convincing counterargument!

“You didn’t notice how sweltering it was today?” It wasn’t, and Percy’s grin transformed to a full-blown smirk at his poor attempt at an excuse. “I was sweating in the stands like I was in a sauna. It’d be so gross if I just returned it to you as is.”

Always one with no sense of subtlety, Percy leaned in and took a deep whiff to his neck without caring who might see. Jason stiffened despite himself. They’re in a fairly crowded hallway, for Merlin’s sake, and this seemed to push it a little bit.

While their relationship had long become common knowledge, he still hadn’t sufficiently warmed up to the idea of prominently displaying their shared affection for the whole school to see. His boyfriend didn’t seem to get the memo—not that he’d ever overstepped any unsaid boundaries Jason had set, thankfully.

“You smell great as always,” Percy noted nonchalantly, his nose brushing against Jason’s skin in a ghost of a touch, causing the hairs at the back of Jason’s neck to stand on end. Then, without as much of a warning, he leaned in to coyly whisper in Jason’s ear, “And you know how much I love your scent, baby. But it’s fine, really. Keep it for as long as you’d like. I want it to smell just like you when I get it back. In the meantime, you can continue enjoying mine.”

Ending his words with a casual nip to his earlobe, Percy sauntered away with a wink, leaving Jason behind a blushing, stuttering mess.

Was he really that transparent? Merlin, how unsightly! The ground was welcomed to swallow him up if it very much liked to.

He walked towards his table with his arms around himself, still enjoying the snug feeling of the fabric hugging his body tight. Oh well, no use sweating over it now. As long as he could keep something of Percy with him just for a while longer, he’s content with embarrassing himself every now and then.

Even now, as he sat down for dinner, his mind was already thinking of going to bed while holding the jersey, letting Percy’s scent lull him to sleep. Somehow, he knew it would take him to dreams of trips to the sea.

As Jason was shovelling breakfast down his throat a few days after the match, another unfamiliar Gryffindor joined him at the table. His brain still running over his timetable to plan for the day, he didn’t really pay attention to the person beside him until Percy’s voice greeted him with a cheerful, “G’morning, baby.”

“Percy? Good—” Jason started with surprise at the sight of his boyfriend sitting next to him. With his school robes in Gryffindor colours, no less. “…morning? What’s with your uniform today?”

Percy glanced down in confusion. “What’s wrong with it?”

“…the colours are a little off, I think?” Jason glanced at the date on his wristwatch. It wasn’t April Fool’s, either. “Shouldn’t it be in, say, the usual green and silver?”

Percy let out a lighthearted chuckle as if he’d just realised what Jason had meant. “I have no idea what you’re on about, you precious dork. I’ve always been in Gryffindor.”

What?

Like he hadn’t just been lying through his teeth, Percy bit into a piece of fried bread before asking through a mouthful, “What’s our first lesson today?”

“I have Herbology," Jason replied. "Dunno about you, though.”

Percy hummed noncommittally, not at all concerned by the blatant confusion in Jason’s expression at his peculiar behaviour that early in the morning. He still paid no mind to Jason’s consternation afterwards, even when they had finished their breakfast together and he was now following Jason to the greenhouses like it was routine for him.

“I wonder what Longbottom has in store for us today! I’ve always wanted to try handling a Venomous Tentacula without my gloves on.”

“That is a one-way trip to the Underworld, darling,” Jason provided, extremely endeared and mildly infuriated. “What class do you have next?”

“Herbology, silly.”

“Nobody ever told me Professor Longbottom can split himself in two now. Seriously, Percy. What’s your next class?”

“Jason, what’s going on with you?” Piper piped up, catching up to them with lighthearted steps. Jason caught a glimpse of Percy exchanging conspiratorial looks with her, one that dissipated so quickly it might as well have been his imagination. “We have Herbology with Hufflepuff, remember?”

“I do? But what’s Percy doing here?”

“Merlin, did a brick land on your head or something? He’s our classmate,” Piper lied with indescribable ease, narrowing her pretty kaleidoscopic eyes at him like he was truly an idiot. On his other side, Percy nodded with exaggerated enthusiasm, eyebrows raised as if Jason was a puzzle too complicated to solve—not as great an actor as Piper was, but still convincing enough it would’ve fooled anyone else.

“Yeah, how could you forget that?” he grumbled, getting whiny at the end of his sentence to compliment the pretty pout on his lips. Jason would’ve been inclined to kiss him if he wasn’t feeling so unamused by their antics. “Do you not want your own boyfriend around?”

“Oh, I’d love to have my boyfriend around. All the time if I could,” Jason assured him. “You know that.”

“Then what’s stopping you? You could have exactly that now, you know?”

“Hm,” Jason made a show of pondering seriously over Percy’s inane question. “It’s just that my boyfriend happens to be a seventh-year Slytherin who probably has his own timetable to adhere to, and I’d rather not see him running around brewing trouble this close to N.E.W.T.s.”

“B-But…” Percy sputtered, before his signature puppy eyes made their appearance on his handsome face, “I have a free period now…”

“You gave up too soon!” Piper groaned, miffed that their silly play pretend was so unceremoniously cut short.

“You wouldn’t understand, Pipes. Jason’s disappointed face is enough to make me jump off the window to off myself—Jason, I’m exaggerating,” Percy backtracked as soon as he saw Jason’s face, which couldn’t have been anything but aghast.

As a respectable Prefect, he’d feel iffy about his boyfriend living up to his name as a resident troublemaker, sure. But at that point in their relationship, he figured that nothing Percy did could’ve ever warranted such a reaction out of him, that would in turn elicit such a reaction out of Percy. He’d already promised himself not to be overbearing and stiff as to restrict his boyfriend; not after that whole fiasco he’d caused from Percy announcing his retirement.

Also, jumping off windows? Really now. He’d follow Percy right after without a second thought.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I was just messing around! Since I have a free period now, I thought I’d use it to join your classes as a way to revise past syllabus—and totally spend more time with you while I’m at it—but I’ll just drop the idea if it’s too much trouble, alright? Baby?” Percy’s tone of voice was turning helplessly frantic by the second, as he mistook Jason’s prolonged silence as disappointment.

“…You’re having a free period, you say?”

“Yeah! And with how our time together in this school is getting shorter by the day, I thought I’d utilise every single second I could spare to the fullest with you,” Percy replied evenly, though there was a trembling edge in his voice that made Jason’s heart clench. “But if it’ll get you in trouble, I’ll just be on my way! No need to worry.”

“What are you talking about? You have Herbology, remember?” Jason found himself saying, despite his pounding heart.

There’s no need to be so uptight, a voice in his head said. If he smiles at you like that—like you hang the stars in his sky, like you’re his dream come true—wouldn’t it be worth all the trouble? it added, and Jason couldn’t for the life of him find it in himself to disagree.

“That I do!” Percy agreed, his usual cheerfulness back in full force now that he’s getting Jason’s stamp of approval. Jason wondered if Percy knew he’s slowly becoming the catalyst to Jason’s rebellious streak that was sure to come. It felt pretty exciting, to be honest. To have someone you’d break the rules just for their happiness…Once a foreign concept to him, it was now so easily feasible when that someone happened to be Percy Jackson.

“Gays and their dramatics,” Piper said with a fond shake of her head. “At least I’ll have a new form of morning entertainment from now on. C'mon, classmates. We’re running late to the greenhouse.”

With an energetic bounce to his steps, Percy grabbed Jason’s hand in pure unadulterated joy and pulled him along as they tail Piper.

"Mr Jackson, I don't recall you being a sixth-year Gryffindor?" To his credit, Professor Longbottom hadn’t looked at all surprised at the sight of Percy sitting next to Jason in his class.

"I had a trip to the Headmistress' Office this morning, Professor, and the Hat was kind enough to re-Sort me," Percy answered in jest, smooth as butter.

It’s such a wonderful thing that the Herbology Professor was even-tempered to a fault. Always opting for a patient and civilised approach with his troublesome students, instead of lashing out at the first instance. No wonder everyone liked him. "Ah. Kind enough to have you repeat a year too, I suppose. Mr Grace, may I know why you're doing nothing to stop your boyfriend's antics?"

"Sorry, Professor, but he's absolutely incorrigible," Jason shrugged, flashing Professor Longbottom an apologetic smile. He couldn’t really say he’d tried his best to change Percy’s mind; a huge part of him just couldn’t help being lenient on his boyfriend.

"I understand,” the Professor nodded sagely, as if Jason’s explanation had made enough sense for him. With a simple wave of his wand, the colours of Percy’s uniform returned to their original shades of green and silver. “Pardon me, Mr Jackson, but I have no choice but to dock five points from Slytherin. Now if you can tell me two examples of potions you can make by using mistletoe, I might let you stay for the rest of the class."

"Mistletoe…if I have to guess, er, probably something related to…kissing?"

Jason bit back an incredulous chortle at Percy’s answer. To his relief, the amused laughter of his classmates rippled across the greenhouse; entertained instead of perplexed. The answer, although far off the mark and very lame to boot, was so typically Percy that it’s endearing to hear instead. He furiously scribbled the correct ones on his palm to discreetly show him.

"That is quite far off the mark, Mr Jackson. One more try. C'mon, or you'll have to leave this class, even if it means Mr Grace would get lonely."

Jason felt his ears burn. To his right, Piper made a gagging noise.

"Got it, sir! Er…Forgetfulness Potion! And,” Merlin, subtlety was really not Percy’s strong suit, as he glanced at Jason’s palm visibly, “Antidote for…C-Connor Poisons."

"Common Poisons,” Professor Longbottom corrected him without skipping a beat. “Good enough, I suppose. You can stay. Thank you for doing your prior reading, Mr Grace."

A war hero and a great teacher. What a perfect man.

The class resumed as usual, and despite his earlier disruption, Percy was completely serious for the rest of the lesson. He hadn’t been joking that he’d wanted a revision of sixth-year Herbology; being thoroughly helpful all throughout their activity for the day as he partnered with Jason to re-pot a Venomous Tentacula (with his gloves on, at Jason’s insistence). He’d crack silly jokes under his breath and grinned in satisfaction when Jason would giggle as a result, before coughing awkwardly to compose himself when they both received dirty looks from Reyna for making a ruckus. He was surprisingly knowledgeable in the subject despite his earlier blunder (“Mistletoe, really? We never had that one last year. Longbottom was out to get me, I tell you.”), mostly owing to being best friends with the smartest girl in school and his mum being quite the skilled gardener.

Needless to say, Jason was having so much fun. While he’s not really one to bemoan the unchangeable past, he bitterly thought that fate should’ve been kinder and granted them the chance of being actual classmates. He wished he’d been born a year older or Percy a year younger, then—had they been in the same year—wished he could have begged to be Sorted into Slytherin or snatched the Hat off Percy’s head to demand it to Sort the boy into Gryffindor with him.

All those six long years in which Percy was a fellow student in the same castle with him, so close yet so far due to their slight difference in age and Houses, and only now did Jason have the privilege to truly know him. There was this strange sense of loss that Jason couldn’t help feeling when he thought of missing out on so many wonderful years in which he could’ve been mates with Percy for longer. It was a little depressing in retrospect.

It didn’t last too long, thankfully. He just thought of Percy in the hospital wing demanding to be his friend, Percy giving him homemade cookies at any chance he got, Percy calling him ‘baby’ all the time because he knew it made Jason weak in the knees, and he then could easily decide he’d rather live in the present. No use dwelling over things that could’ve been but didn’t, when he had the better option of savouring the actual moment. A sweet reality where Percy was his boyfriend and his days had never been better in consequence.

Percy seemed to share the very same sentiment with him.

“Can you wait for me?” he requested, once the class ended and Jason’s classmates slowly filed out of the greenhouse for their next lesson. After two minutes of consulting Professor Longbottom while Jason idled near the entrance, Percy bounded towards him with barely concealed excitement, before dragging him out of the greenhouse and back into the corridors.

“Longbottom agreed to allow me to join you during my free period, so long as I can answer a question from him every time.”

Jason was over the moon. “Make sure you do your own prior reading, then,” he quipped, never mind the fact that he’d help Percy again in a heartbeat.

Like he’d already known what’s on Jason’s mind, Percy replied confidently, “I won’t let you down, baby.”

His hand was still firmly grasping Jason’s, skin delightfully warm like it contained the morning sunlight. His thumb was gently running over Jason’s knuckles, so tender like when he’d trace butterbeer foam off Jason’s lips. When he spoke again, however, there was a hint of wistfulness in the timbre of his voice. “I don’t want to go to Creature Care.”

“Whatever happened to being Hagrid’s star student?” Jason teased, even though he knew exactly the reason for Percy's reluctance.

“Come with me, then I’ll go.”

“Percy…”

“Joking, I know you can’t. I won’t skive off either, this late in the semester,” Percy sighed in despondence. “I guess this is how it feels to taste the forbidden fruit. One bite, and now you want more no matter the risk.” He turned to look into Jason’s eyes with such earnestness and longing, Jason’s heart ached with the same. “I love being classmates with you, Jason. If I could turn back time, I’d beg the Sorting Hat to put me in Gryffindor for real. Even if we couldn’t have the same lessons, at least I could see you more often. We could hang out together in the common room, play in the same team, attend the post-match parties together…”

“You’re making me sad now, darling.”

“Sorry, baby,” Percy said sheepishly.

“Don’t be,” Jason reassured him gently, because didn’t he think the exact same only a few minutes ago? “Besides, things turned out pretty well in the end, didn’t it? We’re here together now.”

After a few seconds of contemplation, Percy decided, “You’re right,” and pressed his budding smile onto Jason’s lips.

They continued walking hand in hand down the hallways of the ancient castle. Jason was content to stay like this forever, to have this moment enclosed in a snow globe frozen in time, but alas, they had to go their separate ways in the end.

Curiously, Percy kept walking with him even after they’ve passed by the turn where he’d head down to the grounds, and despite wanting nothing more than to let the matter be and have Percy be his classmate for the rest of the day (and even year, if possible), he thought it’d be best to point that out. “Shouldn’t you be heading that way for Creature Care?”

“Yeah,” Percy replied. “I’d like to walk you to your next class, though. Hagrid wouldn’t mind if I’m a few minutes late.”

Well, Jason found himself to not really mind that either, if it’d mean a few more precious minutes with his boyfriend.

***

“Merlin knows how I love that girl like my own flesh and blood, but this is a match we’re talking about,” Percy said grimly as they walked together down the winding path leading to the pitch, several weeks later.

Jason nodded in understanding. “All is fair in love, war and Quidditch.”

“You just made that up, didn’t you? Not that I disagree. Anyway, all I’m saying is you just have to win this match for either of us to secure the Cup.”

When Percy glanced at Jason, his boyfriend was gazing up at the cloudy sky in an unreadable look. “I think we’ll have a decent chance at it.”

He didn’t elaborate, but Percy would get his answer not long after.

Jason’s spare jersey, as per the tradition, was his outfit of the day. He wished he could wear it forever. It was a little loose because of Jason’s much bulkier stature, but felt extremely comfortable nonetheless. It smelled of an oddly wonderful combination of freshly cut grass on the pitch and petrichor (that could also be due to the impending rain) and something distinctively Jason’s that Percy’s nose would always pick up when he buried his face in Jason’s neck.

The Gryffindors gave him a wide berth as he went to look for a seat in their stand, but that could also be due to Annabeth’s presence by his side and Reyna’s on her other. He hoped they could see the gold print of ‘GRACE 7’ on the back of his jersey; get it into their heads that he wouldn't be here if it wasn’t for his capable, amazing Seeker boyfriend. From the corner of his peripheral vision, he noticed a familiar hand waving for his attention, and saw Leo already reserving some seats for them.

“Not commentating today, mate?” Percy asked in greeting, returning Piper’s wave who was sitting on Leo’s other side. Leo had found them the best seats with a clear view of Gryffindor’s side of the pitch, where they could witness Frank’s Keeping prowess in all its glory.

“Nah. Taking a breather today,” Leo replied, digging a hand into a box of Bertie Botts’ before shoving a handful of beans into his mouth. Percy looked on in amusement as a myriad of contorted expressions made their way into Leo’s face before he forcefully swallowed the beans. “Besides, they’re all my good mates and I don’t trust myself enough to just say things that wouldn’t get me an earful from all three of Jason, Frank and Hazel.”

“You wouldn’t survive,” Piper agreed.

“I’d come out a changed man,” Leo said, shuddering slightly. “I’d lose my sense of humour and all the ladies!”

Piper stole a bean from Leo as he bemoaned the made-up scenario in his mind. It took her less than a second to spit it back out with a disgusted, “Cheese? Yucks.”

“How lucky. I just got a combo of the top three nastiest flavours and you don’t wanna know how they tasted together. Oh, look! They’re about to start.”

Percy shuffled in his seat to take a good look at the centre of the pitch. Sure enough, the players for both teams were now in their starting positions, the lines of their bodies taut with tension, ready to fly at the first blow of the whistle. It’s all too clear what’s at stake in this final match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff: the former couldn’t afford another loss, and the latter weren’t willing to break their winning streak.

Naturally, his gaze found itself drifting toward Jason, who appeared to be the calmest out of all. Instead of antsy and tense, he looked focused, content, determined. Percy’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of that perfect posture. There’s no doubt that Jason, for all intents and purposes, was going all in to fulfil his promise to him. The thought was enough to keep him on the edge of his seat, skin buzzing with excitement, ready to cheer his lungs out.

Hazel, with two wins under her belt, was a similar picture. She no longer retained the carefully-concealed anxiety that marred her face during her first two games. She’d grown confident in her skin, eased herself into the role of a Seeker, radiant like the sun on her own two feet. Pride welling up within him, Percy thought she looked the most beautiful then, and wondered if it’d be traitorous to harbour a tiny bit of hope that she’d win again.

The whistle was blown and the players shot into the air in a frenzy. As if in tandem, thunder boomed directly above, and rain poured so intensely in a matter of seconds it caught everyone off guard. A cloudburst, completely unpredicted by the forecast.

The spectators yelped and ducked their heads as they began to soak to their bones. Next to Percy, Annabeth casted an incantation above her head, unleashing an invisible canopy that protected their stand from the rain. With another wave of her wand, Percy was instantly dry in a second.

“Thanks, Wise Girl,” he said.

Annabeth waved a nonchalant hand. “I wonder if they’ll be alright,” she said in reply.

Percy shrugged. “I’m sure Jason had played through worse conditions. It’s Hazel I’m worried about.”

From the intensity of the rainfall, visibility would be extremely limited. He could barely see the players from where he sat, only blurry dots of red and yellow zipping around as the game commenced like usual. Emergency goggles casted with the Impervius Charm were usually carried in the players’ robes for such a circumstance, ready to be equipped at a moment’s notice, but Percy doubted they’d be of much help anyway. Worryingly, the Seekers would surely have the hardest time. Finding a flying ball the size of a walnut in this weather was nigh-impossible; Percy assumed they’d only begin to search for it in earnest once the weather let up for a bit.

“I’d be more worried for Jason if I were you,” Reyna said, her voice carried by her impeccable projection even with the thunderstorm playing a deafening cacophony above. “I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed it, but I have a feeling that he’s a little shortsighted for a while now.”

“What?” Percy was caught off-guard for several seconds at her revelation. He could somehow recall a few instances of Jason squinting in the distance when he was staring at something. Before, he’d only thought it to be yet another one of Jason’s adorable quirks. His heart began to rev faster as his brain connected the dots. This was bad. Very, very bad.

Pushing away the unhelpful thought of how cute Jason would look in glasses, Percy tampered down a sudden bout of nerves and willed his jittery knees to stay put. An intense Quidditch match in the midst of a thunderstorm didn’t bode well for the players’ safety in most scenarios. Despite his reservations against the divine, Percy prayed that Jason would come out of this match unscathed.

Gryffindor was in the lead so far, based on the frantic and disorganised commentary barely discernible from the howling winds. Hufflepuff was catching up in commendable speed, their gameplay gaining a huge boost in quality from their past victories. From the warbled voice of the commentator, Percy could pick up the movements of the players alongside his own limited vision. The Seekers hadn’t made any move to catch the Snitch yet, content to stay put as their teammates accumulated sufficient points for an overall win.

Since the Cup was awarded based on the cumulative points from all three matches, Hufflepuff, whose victories had been relying heavily on the points granted from catching the Snitch, needed to overtake Gryffindor’s overall points in order to win the season. It was a pretty daunting hurdle to leap over; Gryffindor was in the lead amongst all four Houses.

Jason was given a slight advantage due to this case. He could begin his search earlier than Hazel once his teammate scored enough. As if agreeing with Percy, the commentator immediately shouted an hour later, “With another 10 points to Gryffindor to a total of 70 points, Grace is now on the move!”

Hazel refused to go down without a fight, it seemed. “And as if on cue, Levesque immediately flew farther away from Grace! Has she finally spotted the Snitch?”

Of course, Percy thought as a mixture of pride and exasperation bubbled in his gut. She’d probably figured out her special affinity to the Snitch and had strategized accordingly. She couldn’t catch it now and risk jeopardising the Cup, but she couldn’t also let Jason come near to catch it instead. Putting some distance between them while using the downpour as a cover seemed to be the most feasible strategy.

Their game of cat and mouse persisted for quite some time, Hazel thoroughly determined to stand her ground (or air?) until her teammates turned the tides of the game in their favour. “Looks like the Puffs are out for blood today, folks. Everyone is working together like a well-oiled machine even in this terrible weather. Even the Beaters are stepping up their game, holding their fort well against La Rue herself!”

After approximately half an hour, Hufflepuff managed to score enough that the 150 points garnered from catching the Snitch would guarantee their much coveted victory. With Jason hot on her heels, Hazel began to double back in a split second, executing a feint that forced him to veer off his course to avoid clashing with her. The final chase had now begun.

While it’d been acting like her best friend when she’s not actively Seeking, the Snitch turned out to not discriminate when it was being chased after. Percy wished he had a pair of binoculars like the commentator did, just to observe the events unfolding from his vantage point better. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to rely on their commentary instead. “Grace and Levesque are now racing for the ever elusive Snitch! Isn’t it amazing that a rookie can fly toe-to-toe with quite frankly the best flyer in the school right now? You may think it’s because of her state-of-the-art broomstick, but Grace had outflown better-equipped opponents before! This is a match Levesque would remember in her lifetime and be proud of.”

“Wow, they’re really buttering her up,” Leo said. “Is Nico holding them at wandpoint or something?”

The climax happened right in front of their stand. The rest followed his example as he rushed for the edge of the wall, crowding all around him in their excitement as both Jason and Hazel zoomed in their direction. Annabeth was cutting off the circulation in his arm with her death grip, uncharacteristically invested in the match. For his part, he was shouting at the top of his lungs, urging Jason to end the game with an assortment of “Go, baby, go!” and “You’re almost there!” He couldn’t care less if he’d sound like a bloody menace. Jason was so close to the finishing line, and he had Percy’s heart tight in his grasp along the way.

“I can’t see much from this angle, folks; we’d have to rely on our friends in the Gryffindor stands—looks like it’s the one where Grace’s boyfriend is too—I wager one of the Seekers is sure to make the decisive catch at this moment…wait a second, one of Hufflepuff’s Beaters just aimed a Bludger towards the two! The Seekers will surely dodge—BLOODY HELL, A DIRECT HIT!”

For a selfish moment, Percy wished the commentator would shut up for a second. Everything afterwards played as if it was in slow motion. Right in front of his eyes, he saw the magnificent view of Jason making a glorious swipe at the Snitch, oblivious to anything around him as his hand finally wrapped around the tiny ball. Next to him, Hazel made a futile grabbing motion almost at the same time, her shorter arm betraying her at the very last second.

Then, there was that image that would forever be etched in Percy’s memory: of a manic glint in Jason’s intense blue eyes as he zeroed in on his target, like nothing else mattered in the whole world. Like he couldn’t care less if he’d crash into the stand or take in a Bludger’s direct assault; the only important thing was securing the win he’d promised for Percy.

The universe had probably thought it’d be funny when it happened.

CRACK. The sound thundered in Percy’s ears, sending him into a momentary daze. His heart caught itself in his throat as he watched—in vivid clarity, of course, as the rain finally lulled to a drizzle in an absolute mockery to him—how the Bludger clashed against Jason’s arm in a vicious blow, the force snapping his elbow sideways in an angle that could only mean a bone fracture. As his sorry brain finally registered the sight in his mind, a shout tore itself out of his throat, desperate and horrified. “Jason!”

In such breakneck speed, a slow and nice brake was all but impossible. While he managed to decelerate enough, Jason still crashed into the wall of the stand with a distinct fwomp, Hazel running into him right after; an absurd scene right out of a children’s cartoon. Percy’s mind went straight into the gutter. He only realised that he’d almost jumped off for Jason when he registered Leo and Annabeth holding him back with vice-like grips.

“Mate, don’t be stupid!” Leo cried.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?!” Annabeth screeched.

“Jason!” Percy ignored them, his eyes widening in horror as Jason slid off his broomstick like a ragdoll right below him. Hazel, disoriented from the crash but still managed to stay afloat, was a little too late in reaching out to grab Jason. Percy might’ve sobbed a little as he helplessly watched Jason reach the ground at a deadly speed. He reached for his wand to do something, anything, and it was almost too late when he realised the referee had come in a clutch and casted a timely Cushioning Charm in his stead.

Everything else was a blur after. He couldn’t recall how he managed to scale down the stairs leading to the pitch in one piece, but he found himself by Jason’s side soon after, just as the boy was deposited onto a floating stretcher by Madam Hooch.

Bile rose to Percy’s throat at the sight of Jason’s battered body. His eyes prickled with fresh tears once more. Jason’s eyes were half-lidded as they met Percy’s, misty as he barely clung onto his consciousness. When he registered Percy’s presence, a little too slowly in his concussion-induced stupor, his scarred lips curled in a lazy grin and his gloved palm unfurled to reveal the Snitch, its wings fluttering weakly in defeat.

Percy wanted to snatch it away and stomp on it with his foot. “Y-You! You stupid, reckless git!”

Jason somehow had the audacity to grin even wider.

“Settle down, Mr Jackson,” Madam Hooch said.

“We won…darling…” Jason croaked.

Percy wanted to kiss him and throttle him at the same time. “You could’ve died!”

“Oh, he would’ve not,” Madam Pomfrey, who’d been on standby for this exact reason, snapped impatiently next to Percy. She’d already shooed away his friends, much to their indignation, and any other Gryffindor player who’d come over to see Jason, but made no such effort toward him for some mysterious reason—not that he had any complaints. With a few brisk jabs and waves of her wand, bandages wrapped themselves around Jason’s injuries. The fresh bruises mottling his skin faded as the first-aid spells took effect. His golden eyelashes fluttered to a close; a curtain call from his wakefulness as it finally bid farewell.

He looked so angelic in his sleep. So serene, like he’s only napping on a Friday night. Percy wished he could’ve seen Jason asleep for the first time, unguarded and precious, in a circumstance less tragic than this one.

“Percy!” He noticed Hazel idling nearby. She’d just finished being tended to by another first aider and looked well enough, if not a little frazzled. The commentator had just announced Gryffindor’s victory, and both teams were moderately congratulating the other and worriedly peering at Jason from afar, knowing better than to disturb a Madam Pomfrey on duty. “I’m so sorry. I lost my bearings for a second and couldn’t catch him quickly enough—”

Percy caught her in a fierce hug. “You reckless girl! Save that suicidal kind of gameplay until after your tenth match, you hear me? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Percy. But he—”

“He’ll live,” La Rue cut her off, popping up behind them. She gave Jason a once-over with a pleased grin. “Never seen Grace that desperate to win, not that I’d expected anything less. You’re a bad influence, Jackson.”

Something sharp pierced in his chest. “Shut it. You could’ve deflected that fucking Bludger away from him, you know?”

She’s probably too drunk on victory to grace him with her usual irascible attitude. Like he’s only but a pesky fly, she ignored his seething and, deeming Jason fine enough, walked away to join her other teammates. They crowded around her and breathed out a collective sigh of relief once they got the good news.

“Go with him,” Hazel said. Percy tore his gaze away from the centre of the pitch to find the matron preparing to transfer Jason to the Hospital Wing.

“Can I? Please?” Percy asked Madam Pomfrey. On any other day, he’d put on his best puppy eyes, but he’s too devastated to even resort to them right then.

She looked between them, her willpower crumbling underneath both their pleading gazes, and sighed in defeat. “Oh, fine. As long as you don’t make a ruckus. And no staying back after curfew.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much.”

The journey to the Hospital Wing was uneventful. Madam Pomfrey walked briskly ahead without as much of a glance at the two boys trailing behind her. As they travelled along the corridors, Percy found his hand unable to part with Jason. He’d carefully stroke the messy blond curls sweeping over Jason’s forehead, wipe away the dirt caked onto his skin. Though he’d once claimed to be a light sleeper, Jason did not stir even a bit, so entrenched in his dreams.

Percy watched the way Jason’s chest rose and fell as he slept, wondering if this was what had plagued Jason back then. Back when everything had just begun. He wondered if worry had gnawed at Jason’s chest too, with the same intensity that promised no end; if his nerves had also lit up with anxiety that spread all over his insides like wildfire. It felt so suffocating, this feeling in his own chest was, Percy doubted he’d ever get to sleep tonight.

As they reached the double doors of the Hospital Wing, he was struck with an epiphany.

They’re slowly interconnecting in the way they work, Jason and him. In a way they’ve never been before, in tandem with each other in their actions and decisions. Like if one of them looked in the mirror, he’d see the other instead of his own reflection. Like if landed in similar predicaments, the course of action they’d take would certainly be the same. The most recent event was a testament to that.

As Jason’s unmoving form was settled onto one of the beds, Madam Pomfrey made a shooing motion at Percy to tell him to wait by the side. It’d only take a second, she said; she’d need all the concentration she could muster to mend Jason’s bones in a jiffy, so if Percy could just wait at one end of the room while she did, that’d be for the best. He didn’t want to part with Jason for even half a second, but he had no choice but to oblige.

It turned out to be a painful wait, no matter how short.

La Rue’s words rang in his mind like the toll of a bell, echoing in the far off distance. It was hypocritical of him, he had to admit, to believe that Jason shouldn’t have gone that far for him. He knew he’d done the same without the slightest bit of hesitation. Still, he wished Jason wouldn’t have resorted to follow his example. Jason had always been the more logical flyer; even relying on his instincts carelessly once had left him immensely mortified at the consequence.

Percy didn’t know what to make of this development. Begrudgingly, he could only hope that it wouldn’t put more harm in Jason’s way later.

Madam Pomfrey called him back after a minute. She let him sit on a chair adjacent to the bed before finally leaving them be. Feeling utterly selfish and hating himself for it, he stroked Jason’s cheek with trembling fingers, desperately wanting him to wake up. To look at him with that loving gaze once more, just so he’d know Jason was truly fine.

Jason had never felt so far away when he’s not looking at Percy, even though they’re right next to each other. And Percy wasn’t sure if he could stand it a second longer.

#jercy #jasercy #jason grace #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo #key writes #11.5k

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