Note: First. Ever. Percy Jackson fanfic. Not my first fanfic, of course, but still. I guess I'm sticking to my field, because, well, this is really the result to anything I plan to write. Please note that the ages here doesn't reflect the ages in the books - well, Percy and Luke would both be well, in their teens. Percy being 15, and Luke being 17. Movie age, si'l vous plait? But anyway. A warning would mean that this is not for people who detests the pairing of Luke/Percy. Stop reading if you do. Yeah.
Disclaimer: Not mine. :/
"How bad did you get burned?" Luke's voice rang through Poseidon's Cabin, his eyes avoided glancing down at the figure laid in the bed. He sounded strained, as if something was holding him back. As if he had done something he knew he shouldn't, had crossed a distinct line.
And he liked it.
"Not bad enough that water won't heal." Percy, too, sounded exasperated, and he rolled around on his bed, though he winced and let out a little squeak that justified he was indeed hurt. Sword fighting with Luke was not the same with sword practice with Luke. One, both of them decided to be serious. One year for Percy, training in Camp Half-blood, and what, six years for Luke? It wasn't time for games, sword fights were serious now. They were both grownups. More or less, anyway.
Percy knew, first hand, of what it was like, to see the world outside Camp. To really fight. Luke would know better, of course.
Sly, and mischievous as always.
"You're getting too reliant on water." He made to scoff, but Percy rolled his eyes.
"Son of the Sea God, Poseidon. Does that ring a bell, Luke?" It was now that Percy propped himself up on his elbows, but he gave out another wince and Luke immediately came to the side of his bed, eyes looking down upon the younger boy.
Luke's blue eyes seemed to twinkle, and staring into them, Percy got the vague feeling of the sea. The deep blue seas.
"You alone should know how getting hurt during sword fights is no big deal." Percy said slowly, as if he tested Luke's anger, Luke's mood. He was only right to do so, because with the dim lightning and the scowl on Luke's face, the boy just looked murderous.
"And you would know how hard it is when the need to strike you comes, and I actually have to feed that need." He would've growled, but instead, he just smiled, a very benignant smile, and leaned forward, his shaggy blonde hair covering a good portion of his left eye, which sent the twinkle to hide. He caught Percy's thin wrist, encircling his fingers there and examined it, as if his life depended on the way his wrist looked.
"Where did I burn you, Percy?" He whispered, rubbing small circles on Percy's wrist. The boy gave out an involuntary shiver that ran through his body and make Luke smirk.
"What does it matter?" Percy shrugged, as if that was the most callous thing to do, but Luke parted his lips and right there, when he looked at Percy like that, all the demigod could see was an angel, basked in blue lightning, and had a scar that ran down his face. Nothing like a cherub, of course.
"Tell me, Percy, or I can't make it feel better," Luke knew Percy was better, he'd been given Ambrosia, he'd basked in the water after, but he still needed to know. When you were the one causing the pain, you barely noted where, or which part you were hurting. More or less, anyway.
"My hand." Percy said stubbornly, green eyes fixed on the space behind Luke's ear. The blonde snickered, but slowly, gently, he brought his lips down on Percy's open palm. It was a soft pressing of his lips, and it lasted for a while before he pulled away and looked Percy in the eye.
"Tell me, Jackson." It was uncharacteristic of him, to act this way, but behind the scene actions, after all the sword fights? Yeah, you were more or less expecting it.
"My arm, and then my shoulder...And my neck," there was a hitch to Percy's voice, but Luke obliged, and for a second Percy allowed a smile to grace his features, the same moment Luke had brought his lips down to Percy's arm, trailing soft, and light kisses there. He lingered there, his fingers running down Percy's back, pressing through the thin cotton of his shirt.
The shoulder came next and he nuzzled it, his fingers now coming up to run through Percy's hair. Oh it was delightful, that feeling. And Percy let out a sound that would've been embarrassing if it wasn't Luke in the room.
When Luke reached his neck, Percy's fingers tangled in Luke's blonde hair and tugged lightly. The older half-blood smirked against the soft, and fluttering kisses, and when Percy leaned against his pillows, he looked down on Luke and for a moment, deliberated.
"Does it still hurt, Percy?" Percy shook his head and closed his eyes, lowering his face to meet the kiss he knew was coming.
It was perfect, then, even if it was taboo, even if it was horrible to the eyes of many.
But the way their lips melted into each other, the way they were still strong fighters, even in this field, everything was just so perfect.
And the perfect ideals would be crushed soon, because this was Luke, and everything either had to be his, go up with him, or go down. And to break Percy Jackson, well, it would be hard work, but who said he wouldn't enjoy it?
I haven't read past the second book.
This is multi-chaptered. Will be, anyway. I hope.
Complications to be explained in the next chapter.