JayDickWeek2017 – Day 4 – Greek Myth

A/N The prompt for day 4 was Greek mythology, so I couldn't help doing a crossover with my childhood favorite: Percy Jackson and the Olympians. This was a lot of fun to write, so I hope you all enjoy this! Tell me which god or goddess you think would be your parent in a review! Mine would be either Athena or Zeus according to most tests I've taken, but a couple tests have also said Poseidon.

Jason was in the woods. That was to be expected when playing Capture the Flag. He wished Camp Half Blood held these competitions more often but he had learned to make due.

It was getting hot under his armor, but he didn't dare take any of it off. He knew he didn't need it to win a fight, but he liked to finish them with as few marks as possible – a testament to his skills. He sat in the woods, not even trying to be stealthy. There was very little chance of him succeeding in hiding or using camouflage anyway. He was too big, too obvious – too threatening – to blend in with his environment. He'd always stood out from the crowd, much to his teachers' dismay. Bruce had frequently lamented his lack of a capacity for stealth, though Jason didn't think he had any right to talk, being a centaur and all. Mr. J just rambled on about how unfair it was that he was stuck at the camp instead of off wreaking mass terror, and any break in that stream of words was filled with him loudly broadcasting to every demigod at Camp that he wished they would all die terribly deaths.

Olympus might a very big mistake assigning the Joker to be Camp Director.

Jason was on the Red Team. He was always on the Red Team, and so the Red Team always won. Nobody could stand against the Ares Cabin under normal circumstances, but ever since Jason had taken over as Cabin Counselor, they just couldn't lose. Well, except for that one time that Artemis' Hunters came to visit, but they didn't talk about that… incident.

Jason had seen any of the other members of his team for a while. Jason was guarding the middle, the perfect position for the leader of the team and the Camp's greatest warrior. He could go for the flag if he sensed an opportunity, or he could double back to defend the Red Team's flag if needed. He'd run into a few of the Blue Team's members, and it had been easy to incapacitate them with his sword.

He preferred his gun, custom made from celestial bronze. The bullets were made of the same special metal, and they ripped through monsters like a hot knife through butter. It had been a gift from Ares to his (currently) favorite son, and it was enchanted so that it never ran out of bullets. It was an unfair, yet welcome advantage against monsters of any kind, but it was forbidden in Capture the Flag. Demigods were better than normal mortals at combat, but they still weren't good enough to dodge a bullet, and it took too long to heal from the wounds it would leave behind. So Jason made do with a celestial bronze sword and a couple of backup knives hidden in strategic places on his person.

It was easy to tell the difference between his team and the enemy. Most campers tied a blue or red colored strip of fabric onto their armor or around their bicep. Jason's friend Roy had a red handprint painted on the front of his breastplate. He knew a few of the flashier guys who had Mohawks attached to their helmets in the color of whatever team they were on. It was only a good idea to make the color a permanent fixture if you were always on the same team. Ares was always on the winning team, and they always picked red, so it made sense for Jason to have made the color a permanent part of his battle attire.

He didn't wear a strip of fabric, but he thought the Mohawks looked ridiculous, and he was just a little too flashy for something like Roy's handprint. No, instead Jason had dunked his entire helmet in a can of red paint. Not only did it make it absolutely obvious which team he was on, but it also made him readily identifiable to everyone at Camp, whether on his team or not. He was the only one with such a helmet, and he was the greatest warrior at Camp Half Blood, so seeing his blood-red helmet often struck fear into whoever was dumb enough to approach him, whether to spar or to engage him in Capture the Flag. It had become a symbol. Indeed, some of the campers had even started calling him the Red Hood.

So the Red Hood was sitting on a log in the woods, all by his lonesome, when a tall man with a blue ribbon around his bicep stepped out from behind a tree. Jason didn't bother standing just yet. He wasn't sure why this guy wasn't already turning around to tell his buddies that they definitely should not approach through the middle, but he doubted it would take long.

It seemed he was wrong, because the guy just kept moving toward him until there was only 15 feet between them. When he got within 20, Jason stood and crossed his arms, still refraining from drawing his weapon from its scabbard. "Hi there, kid. What can I do for you," he asked, a deceptively friendly smile on his face.

The other guy snickered, his lips curling into a smirk. "So you're this… Red Hood. My friends were telling me about you." The guy took off his helmet, revealing himself to be the new kid. He had shown up a few days ago, and he was stuck in the Hermes cabin until he got claimed, if he ever got claimed. Hermes cabin was usually on the Red Team with Ares, because they had both numbers and a lot of tricks up their sleeves. Both were good for battles like Capture the Flag. Unfortunately, some of the Hermes kids had played a prank on an Ares kid that got him landed in the infirmary for two weeks, and Jason had cut loyalties with the cabin as punishment for the trespass.

It was rare someone as old as this new guy to show up at Camp, mostly because a majority of demigods died before they were 12 unless they made it to Camp first. This guy, though, was at least 17, maybe 18 like Jason. He was tall with black hair and blue eyes like Jason, but he didn't have as thick a build. He was lean where Jason was built, fluid where Jason was solid.

Taking in this information, Jason unfolded his arms, letting them hang at his sides. "Is that so?"

The guy nodded. "'Don't go down the middle,' they told me. 'That's where Red Hood probably is.' When I told them I still wanted to come this way, they told me that if I saw you I should turn tail and head back to the flag, unless I wanted to spend the next month in the infirmary."

Jason cocked his head to the side. "And you didn't listen." The guy shook his head. "Why not?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "They're being cowards. Cowardice doesn't win battles, bravery does."

Jason smirked. "And you think you're being brave right now? Taking on one of the best swordsmen Camp His Way has seen in over a century, single handed?"

The guy laughed. "I think I'm being stubborn. And I think I can stall you long enough for my new friends to get past you." As he spoke, half a dozen other members of Blue Team stepped out of hiding from behind various trees and boulders.

Jason's smirk didn't falter. "Interesting theory, kid."

"My name's Dick," he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"That's unfortunate," Jason shot back. Dick grinned and charged at him.

In a fight, charging directly at someone was probably one of the dumbest things you could do, especially as a novice. Jason drew his blade, but he didn't move in any other way, instead waiting for Dick to come to him. When Dick was only three feet away, Jason moved to swing his sword, planning on hitting Dick in the side with the flat of his blade. He didn't want to hurt the kid, you see. It wasn't his fault he didn't know any better.

A mere second before the blade would have hit him, Dick leaned back and fell to his knees, sliding forward a bit like a rock star on a stage. It was too late for Jason to stop the swing, and his sword swiping through empty air. As Jason tried to limit the blade's follow through and momentum, Dick swung his hand up in the air, a small baton in his hand. The arc of Dick's baton followed the swing of Jason's sword, and their paths collided and Jason started to bring his sword back the way it had come. The edge of Dick's baton caught the hilt of Jason's sword and sent it flying out of his grasp. The sword landed feet away, the blade caught in the root of a tree.

It took a moment for Jason's brain to catch up with what had just happened. Never before had he been disarmed so quickly in his life. And he had not been disarmed at all in a few years. He looked from his empty hand to a smiling Dick with wide eyes, but he did not allow his shock to throw him off. As Dick's hand swung towards his head with the baton, Jason leaned back to duck. The baton passed over him with less than an inch of space between it and Jason's nose. Jason righted himself and took a few steps back. He drew two of his backup knives, preparing himself for a surprisingly good fight. He hadn't had a true challenge in years.

Jason simply couldn't help the smile on his face.

Dick drew a second baton from a sheath tied to his belt, returning the smile.

Then the battle began anew.

Every time Jason would strike with his knives, Dick would parry with his batons, which Jason now noticed where made of pure celestial bronze. The footwork was intense, stepping over logs and roots, around trees and bushes. It was further complicated by the fact that Jason simply didn't have time to watch where he was going, his fight with Dick taking all his attention.

Jason knew he was losing ground in the fight, and during a particularly complex onslaught, Jason saw Dick's 'friends' moving past them out of the corner of his eyes. He recognized them all, some being children of Hermes and others being children of Aphrodite. As the two of them fought, Jason realized he could believe that Dick belonged to either cabin. With his helmet off, sweat dripping down his body, and the light breeze blowing through his hair, Jason couldn't deny that his enemy was attractive, not that he would let it distract him. He'd been surrounded by children of Aphrodite ever since he came to the Camp when he was seven – beauty would never be a problem for him.

As they danced through the forest, Jason swung one of his knives toward Dick's head, hoping to catch his temple with the butt of the handle. Dick ducked and Jason's momentum carried the knife straight into the trunk of a tree. He knew without even looking that it was stuck – very stuck – so he didn't even attempt to remove it. He simply sidestepped around Dick and drew another knife from his boot.

Dick laughed. "How many of those things do you have?"

"This is my last one," Jason replied, and he took an opportunity to knock one of Dick's batons out of his hand with his elbow. Dick's eyes followed it as it flew and disappeared into the grass and bushes around them.

"Well I don't have any more of these," Dick said, gesturing to his one remaining baton. Jason smirked, and the fight continued.

It didn't take long after that for Jason to lose his last two knives and for Dick to lose his last baton. After that, the fight dissolved into hand-to-hand combat, and Jason was surprised at how well Dick kept up. Despite being thinner and a few inches shorter, he was also insanely flexible. He managed to squirm his way out of every hold Jason put him in, not to mention all of the crazy flips and parkour the guy threw in, like the obvious exhibitionist he was. Jason would have been insanely impressed if he wasn't so completely focused on the best fight of his life. They were far more equally matched than he had originally thought, and Jason figured that if either of them won, it would be because of a stupid mistake or outside intervention. Jason had already lost his helmet to one of those stupid mistakes, and he didn't think it would take too long for yet another to occur.

They'd been going at it for what seemed like forever, and both were obviously tiring from the extended fight. Jason hadn't had a fight last so long since that time he'd come across a Cyclops in the woods a couple summers ago. It had been more time consuming than difficult, and his current engagement with Dick was on a completely different level from anything he'd experienced before. Jason thought that the only one who might be better than the two of them would be Bruce, but he was an immortal centaur so that didn't really count anyway.

As their fight continued, their attacks grew a little slower, a little weaker. Jason was certain that Dick's friends had either reached the flag or been completely repelled by his team. At this point he was continuing the fight for two reasons. The first was his pride – his complete lack of an ability to cede or give in – and the second was the knowledge that if he stopped fighting first, Dick would knock him out in an instant, and Jason couldn't afford that for the sake of his team.

Dick seemed to have more energy than Jason, which he figured was why Jason messed up first. When blocking a punch that probably could have knocked him out, Jason tripped over a root and tumbled forward towards Dick. The two fell to the ground, and after a few minutes of what was basically wrestling (gods, the roots and rocks digging into his back hurt like Hades), Jason managed to turn the situation to his advantage and worm his way on top, pinning Dick underneath him. He figured that was only possible because of his thicker, more solid build. His muscle made him heavy – heavy enough to hold Dick down with his body weight, though it was necessary to literally sit on his stomach to ensure Dick didn't go anywhere.

Jason had his hands clamped in a tight grip around Dick's wrists, pinning him to the ground, and shins were crisscrossed over his thighs to help pin down his legs. As Jason leaned over Dick, putting all his muscle and weight into the hold, he noticed that Dick didn't look the slightest bit worried or upset at his loss. In fact, he was smiling. "What are you grinning about?"

Dick laughed, and it was infectious. It took everything Jason had not to smile back. "I already told you, 'Hood', my goal was to distract you long enough for my friends to get past you. They did that a long time ago." Dick shrugged, though it was limited from his position under Jason. "Everything after that was just a bonus."

"A bonus?" Jason was dubious. Yes, Dick's teammates had made it past him, but there had been no trumpet to tell them that the Blue Team had taken the flag or that anyone had won at all. "There's nothing stopping me from knocking you out right now and running after them. It wouldn't be hard to catch up. The game's not won yet, Dick."

Dick's smile didn't waver. "Yeah, you could do that. But you won't."

"You sound awfully confident about that."

Dick laughed again. "I'm very confident, yes." The grin turned into a wicked smirk, mischief in his eyes. "You don't want to leave. And you definitely don't want to knock me out."

Jason's eyebrows furloughed in confusion. "What are you talking about-" Jason's breath hitched before he could finish his question, caused by Dick grinding his hips up into Jason's. "What the hell was that?" he asked through a gasp.

Dick arched his back so their chests touched. "I don't know, Hood." He ground his hips up again, a little slower this time. "What do you think it was?" Then he lifted his head and kissed Jason.

It was a hard kiss. Jason felt their noses impact and their teeth clack against each other, and yet he didn't really mind. It took him a second to overcome the surprise, but then he found himself kissing back, trying to ignore his own arousal in favor of taking notice of Dick's… well, Dick's dick. It was hard as Dick pressed it against Jason's own arousal as he ground his hips up again. Jason groaned into Dick's mouth and promptly shoved his tongue into the other man's mouth.

They continued to kiss, Dick shifting the angle of his head to allow Jason more access. What Jason should have stopped as only a kiss quickly turned into a heated make out, and Jason lost track of time as he explored Dick's mouth. He wasn't the only one making noises either, and he wondered in the back of his mind if someone else would come by and hear them, following the sound of Dick's – delightful – noises until they were discovered. It wasn't that they were both guys, because the Greeks had always been pretty open about that sort of thing. It was that Dick was on Blue Team, was supposed to be his enemy, and that meant that Jason was fraternizing with the enemy instead of doing his job.

Just as he decided he really didn't care – that the kissing was way worth it – he heard the sound of the conch shell, signaling the end of the game. Jason pulled away in surprise, noticing that the sound had come from behind them, at the Red Team's base. He huffed in half irritation, half amusement. "So I guess your team won after all."

Dick grinned. "Of course they did. I have the Camp's best swordsman in over a century occupied right here."

Jason shook his head and stood up, pulling Dick up with him. As much as he wanted to continue where he left off, he knew people would be looking for him to explain how they had lost the battle, and why he hadn't been there when they needed him. And as much as he would have liked to avoid that conversation as long as possible, he'd really prefer it didn't follow him being discovered making out in the woods when he should have been fighting. The two retraced their steps through the woods to try and locate their missing weapons, and Jason tucked his helmet under his arm as they turned around to go back towards the dining hall.

As the two of them walked toward Camp, Jason spoke. "Do me a favor."

Dick glanced over at him. "What's that?"

Jason smiled. "When Hermes Cabin starts picking cabins and sides for the next Capture the Flag…" Jason shrugged, knowing his request would probably sound silly, "try to make sure Ares stays on the Red Team. It happens to be my favorite color and, well, I'd hate to have to repaint my helmet."

Dick looked at him for a moment before laughing quietly. "Of course, Hood. I like blue better anyway."

Jason's eyebrows rose. "What, no more Ares and Hermes team ups? Do you just like being my enemy or something?"

Dick smirked. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't give you a chance at a rematch? If I don't at least let you try to reclaim your title, people will say I just got lucky this time."

Jason stopped walking. "I'm pretty sure I won that round."

Dick stopped walking too, a couple steps ahead of him. "No, I'm pretty sure I did."

Jason couldn't keep a small smile from showing on his lips as he took a step towards Dick. "Really? Because I seem to remember being on top just now."

Dick laughed, and he took steps backward as Jason continued to walk towards him. "Really? Because I seem to remember you being exactly where I wanted you to be." They stopped walking when Dick's back hit a tree and Jason was in Dick's personal space.

"Oh, so you wanted to be on bottom?"

"I wanted to stall you as long as I could so my team could win. If that meant being on bottom, then I was on bottom." Dick's fingers wrapped around the edges of Jason's armor and pulled him closer. "And if I happened to like it, then that was just a bonus."

"A bonus," Jason murmured, more than a little distracted by Dick licking his smiling lips.

"Mhm," he nodded, moving his head a little closer to Jason's, to the point where they were sharing breaths. "A bonus."

Jason grinned. "Are you sure you're a Hermes kid? Because so far you've been quite the Aphrodasiac."

Dick laughed, and the space between their faces grew slightly. "What, you think that was love?" Dick smirked. "That was a trick, Hood. A trick that worked, and won my team the battle. Seems pretty Hermes-like to me."

Jason shook his head, refusing to be put off by the slightly dismissive tone in Dick's voice, and gave the other man a sly grin. "Well then feel free to trick me again next time. To win your team the battle, that is."

Dick cocked his head to the side, seemingly surprised by Jason's response. "You'd have to be pretty gullible to fall for the same trick twice."

Jason nodded. "True. I suppose you'll just have to think of some new ones then."

Dick shook his head. "I already have. I'm a Hermes kid, Hood. I have a million tricks up my sleeve."

Jason leaned forward more, their noses touching in an Eskimo kiss. "Then I can't wait for you to try them all on me." Their foreheads touched, and Jason could tell that Dick wouldn't resist another kiss. "Let's see how many I fall for." Then they kissed again, Jason pinning Dick to the tree and Dick's arms wrapped around Jason's neck. Jason knew that, trick or not, this kiss was just as good as the first one.

'Who knows,' Jason thought to himself as he continued to kiss his enemy. 'Maybe if I fall for enough tricks, I'll fall for the trickster too.'