˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ the ponytail incident

It is, obviously, totally normal for friends to want to help each other out before combat. So, of course Percy knows exactly how to tie her hair into a perfect ponytail.

Shouldn't everyone know that?

Who can blame him if he knows his best friend so well that he can easily notice her discomfort with her hair falling on her face when she's sparring? And who can blame him if he wants to help? That's what best friends do.

So he doesn't see anything wrong with standing behind her after she calls for time out, his fingers gently carding through her hair, gathering it into a ponytail, twisting it with practiced fingers and securing it with the hair tie that he just happens to have on his wrist.

"Thanks, Perce." She says, as if it's nothing out of the ordinary.

"Dude, how do you even know how to make a ponytail to begin with?" Leo asks when he hangs back and she goes back to sparring.

"She hates when her hair falls on her face." He shrugs, like there's no more explanation needed.

Leo doesn’t understand, he doesn't know if he wants to, "You do realize you're in love, right?"

But Percy isn't even listening, his eyes already fixed on her and his smile growing when he sees her more relaxed without her hair bothering her.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ the necklace and hairtie

Yes, it's completely and totally normal if she wears a necklace with her best friend's initial around her neck.

It isn't even that noticeable— just a small, golden "P" that rests on her collar bone. Cute and meaningless. She just likes jewelry. This one she especially likes, since she wears it every day.

Clarisse has never noticed it before, but now that she stands in front of her while they drink water after training, the gold necklace manages to catch her attention, sparkling under the sun tauntingly.

Clarisse squints her eyes at it. "Is that... a 'P' on your necklace?"

She lowers her water bottle and smiles, and oh— Clarisse already knows what's coming just by the silly smile on her face. "Yes, for Percy."

"How is that—" Clarisse stops herself with a sigh. "Nevermind."

She's tired of questioning it.

Meanwhile, Percy carries a hair tie on his wrist. Because friends should be prepared for when their best friend needs a hair tie, of course. There’s nothing else to it.

People don't notice at first, it's a simple black hair tie, nothing to question.

But Percy fiddles a lot with it during meetings, snapping it against his skin when he's bored. And he doesn’t let anyone take it or borrow it from him, "anyone has an extra hair tie?" and he's silent because he's sure as hell not giving his.

Nobody really understands why until he ends up losing it and he's frantically looking around for it as if it's such a precious object he just lost and not a simple hair tie.

"Hey do you know if I left the hair tie in your cabin last afternoon?" He asks her when they sit together for breakfast.

"No, but you can have this one if you want." And it's that simple. He nods. And she takes it off her hair to give it to him.

This one is not even a black hair tie, but rather a lilac scrunchie that definitely clashes with his orange camp shirt. But Percy is grinning like a child opening christmas gifts, and you best believe he won't lose this one.

"Is that her scrunchie on his wrist?" Katie Gardner squints at him when he walks past her table.

"Yes, and he's wearing it like it's a promise ring."

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ the kiss on the cheek

And of course it's normal for her to greet him with a kiss on the cheek every time.

Hi? Kiss on the cheek. Bye? Kiss on the cheek. Training? Kiss on the cheek. Breakfast? Kiss on the cheek. Seeing him after capture the flag? Kiss on the cheek. It was simply her way of greeting. Him. Only him.

So when she was late for a cabin meeting and rushed past him with a distracted, "Morning, Perce!" without a kiss?

Percy kind of freezes. His eyes follow her as she walks away, looking like a kicked puppy.

He proceeds to spend the rest of the day sulking. No sign of her around. No kiss on the cheek. By dinner, he's still weirdly quiet.

Grover asks first. "Dude, are you okay? you look like a child that got his candy stolen."

"She didn’t kiss my cheek today." He mumbles, more to himself than to his friends.

Piper looks like she wants to throw her fork to his head. "Is this whole thing just because she didn’t kiss your cheek?"

"Why didn’t she? Did I do something wrong?" And he's pouting, dramatically sad about it.

Grover raises an eyebrow at Annabeth, but before any of them can say anything else— there she is, rushing to the table to take her usual seat beside Percy.

"Sorry guys, had a busy day today." She excuses herself and, like it's second nature, she leans to press a kiss against Percy's cheek. A greeting.

And every single one of his friends is able to witness the change in Percy's expression, the way his whole face just brightens. Long forgotten is the sadness and the sulking.

"How is this normal?" Annabeth shakes her head, going back to her food.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ the picture on the wallet

Percy, as a good friend would, has memorized her usual order. "Chicken sandwich with no tomatoes and fries on the side, add honey mustard for those please."

"Does it change anything if I point out that you hesitated with your own order but not with hers?" Jason asks, looking at him as if he's simply ridiculous.

"That's what friends are for." Percy shrugs, taking out his wallet.

"So you know all your friends orders that way? I don't think-" Frank's words trail off when Percy opens his wallet. "What is that?"

Percy pulls out a few dollars before he realizes Frank is talking to him, his eyes fixed on his wallet. "Hm?" he looks down and he smiles at the photo. "Oh, that's y/n."

He proudly opens the wallet wider to allow both Jason and Frank to see the picture of little five year old y/n squinting at the camera with a wide grin and a bandaid on her nose. "Doesn’t she look cute?"

"I— uh— do you just carry it on your wallet?" Jason asks, genuinely taken by surprise.

"Well, yeah? She gave it to me ages ago." And he turns to pay, like he doesn't understand why they're so surprised about it.

Frank and Jason exchange looks and shake their heads in disbelief, meanwhile Percy is already distracted. "Hey do you have those chocolate chip cookies with the colorful little sprinkles on top? She likes those."

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ pink lilies and cherry-minted lip balms

Friends get each other flowers, right? At least, Percy will if he casually spots flowers while grocery shopping with his mom.

It's not his fault that he finds a bouquet of pink lilies, her all time favorite flowers, right when he's walking past the flower stand. They are basically calling for him.

When Sally Jackson looks up from her cart and finds his son holding a bouquet, she smiles knowingly.

"Is there any special dates coming soon?" She teases, knowing exactly what this is about.

"Oh?" He looks down, as if he just realized he's holding flowers. "Oh these? they just remind me of y/n, so I might aswell get them for her."

Sally nods, she doesn't question it, she doesn't try to understand it. Because she already knows.

Except sometimes it really is unbelievable that his son is so oblivious, Sally gets to realize this when she takes a lip balm from the racks by the cash register. "Maybe I should get y/n one of these, she likes them, doesn’t she?"

Percy hums, distracted by placing the groceries on the checkout belt. "Yep, just make sure to get the one that tastes like cherry-mint, you know? the one in the little pot with the silver lid, it's her favorite."

"Percy, how can you know how it tastes?"

Silence.

Percy stops mid-putting the bread down and realizes what he just did.

"I guessed." he replies simply.

Because he's not about to confess to his mother that he knows that's the lip balm she has been wearing since he kissed her for the first and only time when they were twelve.

So what? they had just been friends who had never kissed anyone before. It just seemed fitting at the time that they should share their first kiss with each other.

And it's totally normal if maybe he simply made a mental note not to ever forget her favorite lip balm. Because he's a good friend.

"Perseus, you are unbelievable."

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ the date

Percy felt as if it was perfectly normal to be worried about his best friend going on a date, but worried to the point of sulking the entire day? completely normal.

Yes. She has a date. With some guy Percy didn’t even bother learning the name of. Percy had only focused on the sheer audacity of this guy to be charming enough to get her flowers—roses, seriously? and ask her out.

But it's normal for him to be a little protective over his best friend. That's all it is. He just doesn't want her getting hurt by some dude that didn’t even bother trying to get her favorite flowers.

That's the only explanation for the way he felt something inside him twisting when he saw her before she had to leave for the date, looking all pretty and smiling brightly to go out with some other guy.

That's why he doesn’t do much the whole day, he can't be bothered with training or joining his friends on their impromtu day at the lake. And by the time the night falls, he has been on his cabin for hours, glaring at the ceiling for more time than he'd like to admit.

It's past lights out when there’s a soft knock coming from his door. And before he can even react, she opens the door and slips inside, still in that dress that looks like it's been made just for her, her heels clicking as she holds them in her hand.

Most of the times, she lingers on the door to wait for Percy to give her permission to step inside— as if he would ever tell her to leave. But not this time, this time she walks quickly and doesn’t even stop at the edge of the bed or sits like she always does.

No, this time she simply crawls into bed with him.

"Hey, how did—" He gets cut off when she suddenly wraps her arms around him, burying her face against his chest.

"Missed you." Her voice is muffled against his chest, but he's able to understand. "So much."

Percy wraps his arms around her waist almost instictively, pulling her closer to him. "You saw me this afternoon."

"Still missed you." She replies. "Especially after that date."

He chuckles softly, his fingers carding through her hair, her fingers curl slightly against his shirt, and he tightens his hold around her. And it feels right.

"Was it that bad?" He asks, keeping his tone light, as if he didn’t spend the whole day brooding.

"So bad." There’s no hesitance. "He talked about himself the whole night, barely asked anything about me. And when he did, and I brought you up, he got all weird."

Percy's hands stop on her hair for a second, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Weird?"

She shifts slightly, nuzzling her face against the crook of his neck. "He told me that we should probably distance ourselves a little because people thought we were dating and he almost didn’t ask me out because of you."

"That's ridiculous." Percy laughs, but it even surprises him how forced it sounds, how his stomach twists.

She pulls away now, barely really, just enough to look at him. "Yup, ridiculous, right?"

They both look at each other, her fingers still curled in his shirt, his arms still securely wrapped around her waist. And neither of them moves.

After a moment, he whispers, as if he couldn't allow himself to speak any louder because it might break the whole thing. "Have you ever thought that maybe... it isn't so ridiculous?"

His heart is pounding, his gaze glued to her, waiting for a response. "Yes, maybe it isn't ridiculous, maybe—"

Percy doesn’t let her finish her sentence, he can't. Because the moment she confirms what he has been thinking about, it's like his body moves instinctively, his lips suddenly crashing against hers.

Cherry-mint lips welcoming his like they've been waiting for this for a long time, his hand brushing over the delicate chain around her neck, fingers pausing just for a second on the tiny gold letter that hangs on it.

And it's exactly what it should be. Soft. Sure. Familiar. Comforting. And even better than that first time they kissed back when they were twelve year-old kids convinced that all they could ever be was friends.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ the kiss

The next morning, nobody notices the change— because there has not been any evident change in the way they act. Everyone just thinks that the clingyness, the kisses on the cheek, the hugs, are just part of the routine already.

Until they're getting ready for capture the flag and, as usual, Percy helps her with her ponytail. It isn't anything that people haven't seen already, No. So everyone just rolls their eyes at them, mumbling about how oblivious they are.

"How many more months do you think will take them to finally realize?" Clarisse mumbles, putting on her helmet.

"Who knows? It could be years, they—" Grover's words die on his mouth when Percy suddenly leans to kiss her.

Kiss her. Percy is kissing her. In front of everyone.

He doesn’t even realize that people have stopped to look at them, because as he pulls away, the only thing worth his attention is her smile as he says. "You'll do great out there, angel."

"I swear if you tell me you're only friends after that, Jackson." Leo tells him after she runs off to go find her spear.

"There’s gotta be more in the Big House, right?" Percy suggested. "Maybe Chiron has a secret stash of Captain America?"

"I checked," you lamented. "Mostly just old copies of National Geographic and a very confusing instructional manual on how to care for pegasi. I just... I miss the new-story feeling, you know?"

Percy nodded slowly, his mind already churning. He hated seeing you bored. More than that, he hated that "quest-brain" was usually reserved for life-or-death situations, but right now, his only mission was to bring that spark back to your face.

Sneaking out of Camp Half-Blood wasn't exactly easy, but Percy Jackson had a certain reputation for breaking rules when the motivation was right. And you were the best motivation he had.

Around 11:00 PM, while the harpies were busy patrolling the outskirts of the woods, Percy slipped out of the Poseidon cabin. He didn't need Riptide for this mission—he needed a backpack, a bit of mortal cash he’d been saving, and a very fast way to get to a 24-hour shop in the city.

He knew a place in the city that stayed open late for "serious collectors." It took some dodging, a very questionable bus ride, and a lot of luck, but he made it. He stood in the aisles of the comic shop, looking completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of glossy covers.

“Okay,” he muttered to himself, squinting at a shelf. “She said she hated the new direction of the Spider-Verse, but she loved the gritty noir stuff. And something about a limited run of 'Saga'?”

He spent an hour talking to a very confused clerk, describing your tastes with surprising accuracy. He bought anything the guy recommended that sounded like something you’d enjoy. By the time he headed back to camp, his backpack was heavy with the weight of twenty different worlds.

He managed to sneak back into camp just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. With great stealth, he crept toward your cabin, slipped inside, and carefully arranged the haul at the foot of your bed while you were still dead to the world.

You woke up to the sound of whispering.

"Do you think it’s a sign?" "Maybe it's a blessing from Hermes? He's the god of trade, right?" "Or maybe Athena felt bad because she's getting bored of her own books?"

You rubbed your eyes, sitting up and squinting at your cabin mates who were huddled near the end of your bed. Your brow furrowed as you looked down.

Sprawled across your duvet was a literal mountain of color. Brand new issues. Graphic novels with spines that hadn't been cracked yet. A limited edition variant cover of your favorite hero. It was a sea of ink and high-quality paper.

"What...where did these come from?" you asked, your voice thick with sleep. You picked up a copy of a new indie series you’d been dying to read. It was crisp. It smelled like fresh ink and possibilities.

"We don't know!" one of your siblings exclaimed. "We woke up and they were just... here. Did you pray to your godly parent last night? Because if so, I need to start asking for a new bow."

You ran a hand over the covers, your heart hammering. For a split second, you wondered if it was divine intervention. But then, you caught a scent lingering on the paper. It wasn't ozone or olives or the smell of a god. A demigod to be precise.

It was the faint, unmistakable scent of sea salt and New York City air.

You didn't even put on shoes. You grabbed the nearest hoodie, threw it over your pajamas, and bolted out the door of your cabin.

There, sitting on the bottom step of the porch, was Percy. He was leaning back on his elbows, looking a little sleep-deprived but utterly content. When he heard the door fly open, he turned his head, and that drop-dead gorgeous smile—the one that always made your knees feel like they were made of jelly—spread across his face.

"Good morning," he said, his voice a bit gravelly from the late night. "Find anything good to read?"

You didn't even say a word. You launched yourself at him, nearly knocking him off the step. Percy let out a surprised 'oomph' as you tackled him into a hug, your arms locking around his neck.

"You went into the city!" you cried, pulling back just enough to pepper his face with kisses. One on the cheek, one on the forehead, three on the nose. "Percy, you idiot, you could have been caught by the harpies! Or thrown out of camp! Or eaten!"

Percy was blushing a deep, frantic red, his hands coming up to steady you on his lap. He was laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he tried to catch his breath between your frantic "thank yous" and kisses.

"I—I mean, it wasn't a big deal," he fumbled, his voice cracking slightly. He was clearly overwhelmed by the physical affection, his ears turning pink. "I just...I missed seeing you look excited. The days were getting boring without you telling me about character arcs."

You cupped his face, looking at him with so much love it felt like your chest might burst. "I love them. I love you. You are the best boyfriend in the history of demigods."

Percy let out a shy, lopsided grin, finally relaxing into the embrace. He tucked a lock of your messy morning hair behind your ear, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

"Yeah, well," he whispered, leaning in to bump his forehead against yours. "Anything for my favorite little nerd."

You felt your own face heat up at the nickname, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you just hid your face in the crook of his neck, grinning like a fool.

"I'm going to make you read them with me," you threatened playfully.

"I figured," Percy sighed happily, tightening his grip on you. "Just...maybe explain the multiverse stuff slowly this time? My brain only has so much room."

The afternoon sun was beginning to dip, painting the interior of the Poseidon cabin in shades of amber and sea-foam green. It was quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of the tide outside and the frantic flipping of glossy pages.

Percy was propped up against a pile of blue pillows at the head of his bed, his legs stretched out. You were tucked firmly into the crook of his arm, a brand-new Spider-Man comic spread across your laps. You had been talking for twenty minutes straight, and you hadn't even reached the whole Green Goblin Saga yet.

“Okay, so you have to understand,” you said, your finger tracing the iconic red-and-blue suit on the page. “Peter Parker isn't just a hero because he has powers. He’s a hero because he’s constant. He’s the guy who misses his rent, fails his classes, and burns his toast, but he still spends his last five dollars on a churro for a kid who’s having a bad day. It’s the 'friendly neighborhood' part that matters, Percy!”

Percy nodded, his head resting back against the wall. He was trying, he really was. He liked the idea of a guy who got bitten by a spider—though he’d personally prefer a radioactive shark—but the sheer volume of "lore" was starting to make his brain feel like it was vibrating.

“Right, right,” Percy murmured, his voice a bit airy. “And his uncle…the one with the speech?”

“Uncle Ben!” you chirped, your eyes wide and shining. “'With great power comes great responsibility.' It’s the core of his entire existence. But then you have the multiverse! You have Miles Morales, who is a literal icon, and Gwen Stacy, and the fact that in one universe, there’s a pig named Peter Porker—”

“Wait wait wait…back up,” Percy interrupted, a small, sleepy smile playing on his lips. “A pig? Like, a full-on farm animal in a mask?”

“Yes! Spider-Ham!” You turned toward him, your entire body radiating excitement. “And he’s just as valid as the rest of them! But what’s really tragic is how Peter always loses people he loves, yet he never stops trying to be good. It’s like he’s cursed by the universe, but he refuses to let it break him.”

You launched back into an explanation of the Symbiote and how it was actually an alien life form that thrived on Peter’s negative emotions. Your hands were moving in the air, mimicking the web-slinging motions, and your voice was full of that infectious, nerdy energy that Percy had come to crave.

Percy, however, had stopped looking at the comic five minutes ago.

He was watching the way your nose crinkled when you talked about the Green Goblin. He was admiring the way your eyes seemed to capture all the light in the room whenever you got to the "good parts." To him, you were more interesting than any radioactive spider or multiversal threat. You were vibrant and brilliant, and the fact that you cared so much about these stories made him want to memorize every single word you said, even if he didn't quite understand the stakes of the "Secret Wars."

He tilted his head, his sea-green eyes soft and dazed. He looked like he was watching a masterclass in something beautiful.

“Percy?” you asked, suddenly stopping. You looked at him, your eyebrows knitting together. “Are you even listening? I just explained the entire Gwen Stacy bridge incident, and you didn't even gasp.”

Percy blinked, snapping out of his trance. He felt the familiar heat of a blush creeping up his neck. He rubbed the back of his head, his hair even messier than usual from leaning against the pillows.

“I—uh—I heard the bridge part!” he fumbled, his voice cracking slightly. “Very high. Very sad. Green guy on a glider. I’m on top of it, I swear.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, leaning in closer until your noses were almost touching. “You’re lying. You were staring at me again, weren't you?”

Percy’s blush deepened until his ears were bright pink. He let out a huff of a laugh, his gaze dropping to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again.

“Can you blame me?” he mumbled, his voice dropping into that low, sweet register that always made your heart skip. “You get all…sparkly when you talk about this stuff. It’s hard to look at a drawing of a guy in spandex when I’ve got the prettiest girl at camp right here.”

It was your turn to fumble. The "Spider-Man" lecture died in your throat as your face turned a matching shade of red. “I—well—it’s important lore, Percy! You can’t just skip to the romance!”

“I like the romance,” Percy countered, his lopsided smile growing wider as he saw how flustered you were. He reached out, his hand sliding behind your neck to pull you gently back into his chest. He pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair.

“You’re just a cute little nerd,” he whispered, his voice full of affection. “My little nerd.”

You groaned, hiding your face against his shirt, though you were smiling so hard it hurt. “I’m a literary analyst of the superhero genre, thank you very much.”

“Sure you are,” Percy chuckled, tightening his hold on you and pulling the blanket up over both of your legs. “Now, tell me more about the spider-pig. I think he’s my new favorite.”

You spent the rest of the evening explaining the Spider-Verse to him, and even though Percy eventually drifted off to sleep with his head resting on yours, he did it with a smile on his face, dreaming of web-swinging and the girl who made the world feel a lot less scary. Because he didn't truly care about the heroes in those comics, you were the only hero he needed.

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