Description: Demigods are immature. Percy and Luke are no exception. Percy/Luke, fluff, most likely OOC.
A/N: Um...choppy OOC mess? Not quite sure what to say about this. It was really fun to write though! ^_^
I'm not positive where this would happen in the timeline either, but it's really just for fun. Enjoy, if you can. Haha.
Out of all the traits that demigods inherit from their non-mortal parents, there is one that is universal. Every single demigod, no matter their parentage, has the ability to be a downright immature brat.
Mentally, Percy thought, the kids at Camp Half Blood had the mindsets of five year olds most of the time. Sure, in dire situations they'd be ready to take on pretty much anything, but not most of the time. Certainly not as the better part of the Hermes Cabin, the majority of the Aphrodite Cabin, and a small sect of the Ares cabin joined together to loudly chant, "Percy and Luke sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G."
No, demigods were certainly not mature.
Percy's face flushed as he pushed up from the Poseidon table, scuttling out of the building and away from the words.
Luke had finished lunch earlier. He was probably out practicing by then. He didn't want to see Luke though. Percy's head was reeling with anger, an aftershock of the embarrassment that had rushed through him before. It was Luke's fault really—it was his fault for causing the whole misunderstanding—and there was no reason to want to see him.
Slowly, he came to a stop, digging the toe of his shoe into the dirt below him. Undeserved anger, displacement…he'd definitely inherited something from the godly side of the family, and it wasn't just the powers.
They'd just been fighting, he and Luke. It'd been like every other sparring match they had, throwing jabs, dodging the others, and then he'd fallen back and Luke had somehow come toppling down after. Percy's fingers had twisted themselves unintentionally into the other boy's shirt, shuddering as Luke's lips fleetingly brushed his neck (by accident, of course).
The blonde hadn't said anything. He just smiled, shrugged, and pulled himself up. It had been enough to start rumors though. Why the rumors had taken off so well was a mystery to him.
The Aphrodite's cabin spread half-truths and misconstrued interpretations of the facts all the time. Normally the rumor would flare up, someone would get seriously close to being beaten to a pulp (or actually being beaten to a pulp if one of Ares children happened to be involved), and then it would die within the half hour. No big deal. This one had been going on since early that morning though, when the sparring match had taken place, and refused to die out. He didn't understand it.
He'd never made advances towards the other boy. Luke had never made advances towards him. And, most importantly, he wasn't gay. He wasn't gay, he didn't like boys, and he certainly didn't like Luke. Not that there would be anything wrong with it if he did. Annabeth just might kill him, though.
Sighing, he shoved his hands into his pockets. One hand wrapped tightly around Riptide, a nervous habit he'd picked up recently, and he ran his thumb carefully down the edge. Someone cleared their throat behind him and he immediately jerked around in response, whipping the pen out of his pocket.
Luke looked amused, lips unabashedly pulling up into a grin reserved for only the Hermes kids as he stood before him. His scar pulled taught on his skin with the movement, and it became a smile reserved only for Luke. Percy stared for a moment, then realized that he hadn't uncapped Riptide and was holding his friend at pen point rather than sword point. He quickly pulled the pen back, shoving it into his pocket, his eyes gluing themselves to the ground.
"Uh…" he muttered. Articulation seemed a fine skill to possess when facing monsters, gods, and even Clarisse, but somehow it just didn't like to stick around in such situations. Percy wondered if there was a god that specifically ruled over speech, one that just liked to mess with him, and silently cursed that god if he or she actually existed.
"Percy, I heard you headed out on lunch pretty quickly earlier." Well, at least Luke was still articulate. A one sided conversation seemed better than a no-sided one. Percy nodded, focusing on the other boy's shoes. One was double knotted, the other slowly coming undone. He contemplated commenting on it as the silence between them failed to alleviate itself, but in the end decided against it, instead bringing his face up to meet Luke's again with a deep breath. It shouldn't be so hard to talk, he berated himself, but it was.
"Earlier…" he trailed off again, waiting for Luke to say something. Instead, the blonde raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side and waiting for him to continue. Percy cleared his throat and said, "Earlier…we uh…look, I know that events were kind of misconstrued and the, uh, the other kids were just being…childish about it, I guess." He shoved his hands in his pockets again, reaching for Riptide anxiously and forgetting the previous fiasco. He turned the cap around on the pen without removing it, waiting for a response.
Finally, Luke shrugged. He reached out, placing a hand on Percy's shoulder, his smile reaching something near the level of earnest. "I'm sorry they were being childish, Percy, but I'm not really sure what events you're talking about. What exactly happened earlier that could be misconstrued, Percy?"
That had to be at least the third time Luke had said his name, and in the span of three sentences. Percy shifted uncomfortably, forcing himself not to jolt away when Luke took a step closer, murmuring his name again. "Percy, I'm not sure I understand. What exactly happened?"
"I—you—I fell and you fell on top of me," Percy forced out. He didn't think he'd ever been this close to the other boy when they weren't fighting. He smelled good, not that Percy was intentionally trying to discern this fact. Oh no, on the contrary. He was trying to think of anything but this fact. Thinking of things like the fact that he wasn't gay. He'd just never liked a girl in his life. "And then…"
Luke pressed on. "And then?"
"You kissed me—my neck, uh…" That wasn't what he meant to say. That was how it had been misconstrued. Luke, however, seemed anything but offended.
The hand not steadily holding onto his shoulder reached up and brushed across Percy's throat. "Percy," Luke began quietly. Fifth time he'd said it, Percy thought. "You think I kissed your neck, Percy?" Luke asked. Sixth time.
"I, uh…" The incoherency was returning. Percy's grip tightened on Riptide as he tried to control the urge to turn tail and run away as fast as humanly possible. "Yeah?"
A small, breathy chuckle found its way off Luke's lips and Percy shivered. "Well P—"
The younger boy cut Luke off before he could say it again. "Would you stop saying my name already?" he snapped, realizing somewhere in the back of his mind that the hand not holding Riptide in his pocket had wrapped itself in the bottom corner of his friend's shirt. All he got was another chuckle in response.
Luke leaned down the small distance that it took so that his mouth was beside Percy's ear, warm breath dancing across his skin mischievously, and said, "No, Percy, I will not stop saying your name. I like saying your name Percy, and just so you know, you would have no doubt that I had kissed you if I did. If I had, it would've been something like this."
Before he even had time to comprehend the words Luke really was kissing him, lips pushing against his own, teeth scraping his lower lip and sending shivers down his body. The other's mouth went parading down his neck in a valiant march of delicious suction and teeth and tongue. He gasped in air, eyes squeezing shut tightly. Not gay, don't like this, not gay, don't like this. Luke pressed at a particularly sensitive spot and Percy arched himself against him, the next words escaping his mouth in a muddled daze. "Damn it, I'm gay," he hissed, and it wasn't what he meant to say, but most of what he'd said wasn't what he meant it to be.
His fingers tightened around Riptide, a gasp escaping his mouth, and the cap popped off. Lucky for him, Luke had fast reflexes.
The blonde stumbled back, and they stared at each other, gasping in air. Percy wasn't quite sure what he looked like, but he was pretty sure it was something along the lines of "oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-that-just-happened-and-why-in-Hades-did-that-just happen". Luke just looked triumphant.
A moment more of gasping in air and Luke grinned widely, glancing down at the sword in Percy's hand. It had ripped through his pocket, but luckily done no more damage than that. He looked back up at Percy, waggling his eyebrows.
"Is that Riptide, or are you just happy to see me?" he asked, and Percy couldn't help but laugh.
Demigods, he thought, we're freaking immature to the last.