I'm a Little Drunk and I Need You Now

 

Luke is dead. He’s gone. His son was dead.

 

Everyone is celebrating, but he is far from being celebratory. He seeks to be alone, and to mourn his son whose death helped to end this war. Instead, he stumbles upon Percy Jackson sitting quietly by himself in one of the guest rooms of Mount Olympus. He briefly recalls not seeing the boy at the party and had wondered where he’d gone. Hermes supposes here was where Percy had been hiding.

 

He looks tired. He’s just sitting on the bed against the headboard, a leg stretched lazily while the other was bent haphazardly. Percy just simply seemed out of it.

 

Hermes isn’t sure what to make of it.

 

“Bastard. Stole my first kiss, stole my first time, stole everything from me. Now he’s dead. I didn’t even get to scream at him like I wanted,” Percy mutters.

 

The implication is startling, obvious in a way, and yet no one had even had a clue. Hermes feels like perhaps he had been more than harsh on Percy before, and that his recent reconciliation with Percy needed to be redone. He hadn’t understood Percy’s side, but had begged him to understand his.

 

But there had been more to it, he sees now, and perhaps he should make it up to the boy.

 

“Are you alright?” he asks softly.

 

Percy blearily looks up and he sees the boy isn’t aware, and is actually very, very drunk. Hermes hesitantly walks into the room and sits down by him. The bed creaks a little under his weight, but then it’s quiet.

 

“You’ve been drinking,” he states quietly.

 

Percy gives the god a sloppy grin, “Come to lecture me?”

 

He shakes his head, “I’m not your father.”

 

“No, you aren’t. You’re Luke’s,” Percy drawls, but then he leans closer and squints. “I mean you really look like Luke,” it comes out as a mumble. Then uncomfortably, but then a part of him is actually okay with it, Percy is too close and sniffs at his neck. “You even smell like him,” he says wistfully. “Maybe it’s you and your kids.”

 

Hermes pushes him gently away and back to lean against the headboard.

 

“You’re right. I am Luke’s father. And you were right before. I did abandon him. I may not have thought so and I may not have wanted to…but what mattered was that that was what he’d thought. Luke thought I abandon him and that’s how he’d felt in the end.”

 

Percy is silent, staring at him. Then the boy’s lips twist sardonically.

 

“Luke was…no matter what, he just was,” Percy murmurs. “Even after everything, I don’t think I ever told anyone how much I still admired and liked him.”

 

“But most of you hated him,” Hermes answers back, staring intensely.

 

“Too true. I hated him just as much as I secretly liked him. And that was the side I showed the most to everyone, and the only one I would admit to myself. Annabeth, especially, couldn’t stand it. I always told her I didn’t see what she saw in him, but the truth was that I did. He was charming, utterly charming. And handsome. And a real smooth-talker,” and then Hermes realizes that Percy is starting to enter his private memories and starting to forget that Hermes is there.

 

The god feels like he’s invading a private moment and that he should leave, but instead he sits and listens.

 

“And Luke was very gentle. So sweet,” Percy sighs, and Hermes knows for sure the boy is lost in memories.

 

“Go on,” he encourages, hand automatically reaching over to softly caress the bared skin of Percy’s stomach, shirt ridden up enticingly. He doesn’t know what he’s doing and he’s pretty sure he’s not thinking right now.

 

“I’ve forgotten how sweet his kiss was,” Percy sighs again and so Hermes kisses him. Percy’s eyes are blank and unseeing, and Hermes knows what he’s doing and that he knows it’s wrong.

 

He is thinking now, after that first touch, and he realizes what he wants to do. He wants to grieve with this boy who loved –loves –his son just as much as he does, and who hurts just as much, who understands Hermes and the god’s pain.

 

He wants Percy.

 

So he pushes Percy onto the bed and starts unbuttoning the dazed and drunken boy’s shirt, slips it off without a care, and reaches down to take off the boy’s jeans. He slides it off Percy’s slim waist and lean legs, eying revealed skin hungrily.

 

He dives in, licking at Percy’s navel, and then trails his tongue upwards, earning a mewl from Percy. His tongue swirls around one of Percy’s nipples and the demigod gasps, arching into his mouth.

 

Hermes reaches around and grabs the hem of Percy’s boxers, sliding them off in one smooth motion. Without giving another warning, he takes Percy’s cock into his hand and tugs, making Percy go from gasping to squeaking adorably at the unfamiliar touch.

 

Percy instinctively tries to wiggle away, but instead Hermes gentles his touch and Percy stills, unconsciously spreading his legs more for easier access to the god. The boy’s breathing has gone back to getting heavier and so Hermes speeds up his caressing, moving from twirling his fingers teasingly around the head of Percy’s member to grasping it fully and sliding it down the entire length.

 

“Luke!” Percy whimpers, and Hermes’ hand stills and the god tenses.

 

It’s his son’s name and it should be his son here with Percy, not him, and it is not his right to touch this boy so intimately, to taste that which does not belong to him, and to savor Percy in all rights he should not.

 

And at the same time, unguarded jealousy and unhappiness floods him, and it is his son’s name Percy speaks when he wants it to be his.

 

Hermes realizes just how depraved he sounds and is.

 

But he makes the choice to continue and pulls his hand away, instead bending down and wrapping his mouth around Percy’s completely hard by now cock, and tastes salt and sweat on his tongue. It’s not a bad taste and he finds he actually likes it.

 

Percy is his first male lover. There are not many of them who take to the same sex, Zeus only once with Ganymedes and Apollo twice with Hyacinthus and Cyprissus. But of the rest of the male Olympians, they stay with women who catches their eye. But Hermes finds he does not really mind sleeping with another male, and wonders if it’s because of who it was.

 

He pulls away from Percy’s cock with a slight pop and pushes his mouth against Percy’s, pressing his tongue against the other’s so that they quickly started to fight for dominance. He slides Percy farther onto the bed and moves more onto him, lifting the boy’s legs up and over his shoulders as he bends over Percy completely. While he kisses the boy artfully, he slides a calloused hand down sweat-slicked skin to cup Percy’s arse, experimentally kneading it before he was sure it was okay to move farther. Then he had a finger near Percy’s hole, slowly wiggling in, and Percy alternately bucks up into his body in surprise as well as violently throwing his head back with a harsh exhalation of breath.

 

The god pauses, waiting for Percy to adjust to the new sensation, before he begins to thrust his finger in and out of Percy. He adjusts his hold on Percy, moving lean legs a little more secure onto his shoulders as he tries another finger and pulls Percy up to bring him into another kiss. When he feels Percy slowly rock against his hand and trying to get his fingers in more, he smirks in triumph in the kiss and adds a third finger, speeding up the pace of his finger thrusts.

 

His own cock is hard and aching, pre-cum already dripping in earnest. He wants to reach down and tug on it, but he’d rather keep his focus on Percy for the moment. He curls his fingers inside of Percy and Percy clenches tightly around them and gives another wild buck as Hermes hits that spot. Then Hermes is thrusting his fingers in and out lightning fast, becoming a little too much for Percy, especially as the god hits that spot every time.

 

Hermes uses the hand keeping Percy up to wrap around the boy’s neglected cock, moving in time with his fingers thrusts, and together they bring Percy into orgasm, the demigod ejaculating into the air and some splashing onto Hermes’ chest and the front of his chiton. Letting Percy rest for the moment, he kicks off his sandals and then slips off his chiton, becoming as naked as the boy on the bed.

 

He climbs back onto the bed, hovering over Percy, before switching the boy onto his front and pulling his arse into the air. Firmly planting Percy’s knees onto the bed, he moves in behind him and guides his cock into Percy’s stretched hole. He slides in and the muscles tense around his cock, and Percy is whimpering slightly, so he goes even more slowly than he’d started. Buried up to the hilt, Hermes stays inside of Percy for a moment before pulling back and slamming back in, causing Percy to cry out.

 

Pausing, Hermes contemplates his next move. A male lover was different and he wasn’t sure how to handle Percy. He wasn’t familiar with anal sex, and he wasn’t sure how much it would hurt and how he could avoid causing Percy pain. But then Percy shoves up against him and he thinks that maybe he should keep going and figure out the works as he went.

 

So he started mimicking the earlier movements of his fingers, thrusting into Percy before pulling out slightly, and then repeating the process. He curves his front over Percy’s back, molding their bodies into a perfect fit, before lifting Percy’s hips and angling himself. He hits Percy’s prostrate once more, and he carefully maintains the position, controlling his pace between too much and too fast to agonizingly and teasingly slow and then back.

 

They reach their climax at the same time, Hermes shooting his seed into Percy and Percy splattering all over the bed, grinding down on the mattress at the same time as Hermes plunges in and out a couple more times for both of them to ride out their orgasms.

 

Tired out, Percy mumbles something before collapsing onto the bed and falling asleep. Chuckling in amusement, Hermes moves Percy over a bit before lying down himself, pulling the boy closer to him before falling asleep as well.

 

He’ll talk to Percy properly tomorrow when they woke up.

 

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Percy is wide awake. He knows he’s even more tired than he was yesterday, he knows his body has become even more sore than the day before, but now a lingering bout of pleasure is running through his body and he knows he’s naked and he knows there’s a warm body behind him and he knows there’s an arm wrapped possessively around his waist –

 

He bites his lip to stop the ongoing thoughts milling through his head and thinks about instead about what had happened.

 

He drank. And he had continued drinking. And he remembers things going hazy and a vague conversation with someone before he remembers lips descending onto his and his whole world becomes dazed pleasure and unclear memories.

 

Gathering his courage, he pries the arm off of him, which is surprisingly very hard to do, and moves away to gaze at the person he’d gone and slept with. Because that ache in his arse, his spent cock, and his exhausted body is speaking volumes and there’s no way he didn’t have sex.

 

His face pales and he buries his face into his hands.

 

Of all people, he had to sleep with Hermes. Of all people, he slept with the father of the boy he still likes and hates at the same time, and also the same son he’d just killed.

 

What does that say about him?

 

He spots his clothing and gets off the bed to start putting them on; glad at least they seem to be intact. He winces as he pulls his jeans over his arse, but tries to keep his mind off the reason for the pain. Then he spots the shoes he’d stumbled out of before he’d gotten on the bed yesterday, and pulls them on and leaves without waiting for the god to wake up.

 

He stumbles into the hall and starts panicking about being caught there alone. He quickly starts walking in any direction, luckily finding an exit into the streets of Olympus. There are minor gods passed out here and about, as well as some awake and joyfully chatting with one another. Some of them even spot Percy, eagerly waving and smiling at him.

 

He plasters on a smile and keeps walking, hoping no one would come closer and actually try to talk to him.

 

He feels like crap, even though his body feels wonderful, because inside his emotions are everywhere and his body is still sore and tired.

 

“If you could spare a moment, Perseus?”

 

He doesn’t grit his teeth even though he wants to, but instead turns to face Athena.

 

“How can I help you, Lady Athena?” his voice is quiet and he has no energy to try and put a front up for the goddess.

 

She tilts her head curiously to the side and studies him, but doesn’t speak. Then she takes a hold of his shoulder and starts directing him somewhere, and he realizes they’re heading to her home.

 

“I would like to talk to you,” Athena tells him steadily, seating him at her table.

 

He nods jerkily, avoiding looking at the goddess straight in the eyes.

 

“I do not approve of the relationship between yourself and my daughter.”

 

It’s blunt but honest. He shrugs.

 

“There isn’t a relationship.”

 

“Pardon?” There is genuine question in her voice, but there is something else that says she knows something.

 

Percy’s lips twist sardonically.

 

“I don’t like Annabeth that way. I guess you could call it displacement. The one I did like wasn’t available so my feelings transferred over to someone more appropriate and whom I’d rather see myself with.”

 

“Love is an irrational concept. You should be talking to Aphrodite rather than myself. It is her domain after all.”

 

Percy snorts and almost sneers, “I don’t think I’d be able to handle talking to her. Besides which, she’s no help at all unless she can get something out of the relationship.”

 

Athena nods at him in acknowledgement and a small inconceivable smirk.

 

“Aphrodite claims to be the goddess of love, but even with all the love in the world, she will not care if it does not amuse or interest her in some way.”

 

“Also, I’m talking to you because you brought me here to talk about it first,” he chances a cheeky grin and is rewarded with a smaller, amused one. “I’m surprised you’re not angry I don’t return Annabeth’s feelings.”

 

Athena sighs in reluctance, “What can she do? She cannot force a gay man to love her.”

 

He tilts his head in question, mimicking her earlier movement.

 

“I knew at the least that you didn’t return my daughter’s feelings, though you didn’t know until yesterday or perhaps today. And I have a hint to whom you do love…loved.”

 

He nods.

 

“I will not question exactly who it is and I will not speak of he to anyone,” she goes over their conversation quickly in her head. “It is strange to cross logic and love. Logic and love do not mix.”

 

“And yet sometimes they do,” Percy says quietly, and both of them are silent.

 

“Come, Perseus. I know you wish to leave Olympus, and quietly. If they see you are with me, they will not bother you,” and she holds her arm out and he takes it and doesn’t say he feels like a lady, even though the twitching of her lips says she knows what he’s thinking. At least that’s what he’s thinking she’s thinking.

 

They’re passing through the streets arm in arm, and Percy is suddenly aware of others pointing and whispering at them.

 

“There will be rumors,” though he’s not sure what kind of rumors will come to pass, he still recognizes the telltale signs of gossip mongering ready to be founded and spread through the grapevine (as is the case in every society, immortal and not). Perhaps they will be saying that Athena has finally given her consent for Percy to date Annabeth. No doubt it would quickly reach Aphrodite, who would be quite pleased at the “news.”

 

“Let the rumors come. They will not bother me.”

 

“Did you love Dr. Chase, Lady Athena?” he asks her quietly.

 

They’re still walking and it is only because he is walking so close to her that he catches her slight falter as he asks his question.

 

“Yes,” she answers him sincerely, looking straight forward. “I am not sure why I would be telling you this, and yet perhaps it is because you of all people would understand and would not betray my confidences to anyone. I see him now…Frederick is happy, but now I feel regret. Sometimes I wish I had not made those vows to be physically chaste, that I could be with him even if only once. Though it is too late now. I wish things could have been different, that I could have made a different choice with him.”

 

“Vows don’t have to be kept,” he says nonchalantly. “You made those vows. You can break those vows. It’s your choice and no one is forcing you to keep them, only yourself. What right would the rest have in holding you to your vows? And what right do they have in judging you anyway, if you don’t want to? Besides, it’s not like their opinions matter. You should only care what you think.”

 

“Wise words coming from someone many don’t expect to be wise,” the tilt of her lips makes him smirk slightly.

 

“Is that teasing coming from the Goddess of Wisdom I hear? Oh wow, I must be hearing things.”

 

She rolls her eyes, “You must be.”

 

They reach the end of their destination and the doors to the elevator slide open.

 

“I will not say anything of your infatuation to…him,” Athena reaffirms quietly.

 

Percy steps in, but before the door closes, his arm shoots out to stop them, and he faces Athena one last time before his departure.

 

He takes one of her hands into both of his, holding it aloft strangely tenderly and giving her an odd soft smile, visibly filled with sorrow.

 

“Next time you fall in love, and you know it’s true love, don’t hold back and keep a hold of it with both hands and never let go. Don’t make that mistake. I did, and I just let it slip right through my hands. I made that mistake and now I have nothing to show for it. Don’t let love pass you by.”

 

He steps back and the doors close on him, hiding him from view and leaving behind an astonished goddess.

 

He’s tired, but he has to keep going. He has to keep occupied, keep his mind busy so that he doesn’t think on things. So he’s out of the building, hailing a cab, and heading back to camp. Everyone is still asleep from the late night partying, so he makes his way quickly to his cabin and starts packing his stuff. There’s a knock on the door and he’s surprised anyone is up at all at this hour to greet him.

 

He’s even more surprised to see Clarisse La Rue on the other side of the door.

 

“Can I come in?” she asks awkwardly, and he steps back to let her in.

 

She sits on his bed and glances around, noting the bag and opened drawers.

 

“You’re leaving?”

 

His head jerks in a nod and she nods back.

 

“Summer will be over and senior year is around the corner. I figure I should head out and avoid the crowd,” the double meaning didn’t escape her. Percy didn’t want to be crowded with praise or questions and whatnot.

 

Or his friends asking him if he was alright.

 

“Princess is going to be pissed off.”

 

Percy couldn’t help forming a wry grin.

 

“She’s going to have to be. I’m not ready to face her and I don’t know how I’m going to explain…some things to her.”

 

“What –that you’re gay and there’s no way you can like her?”

 

He blinks, but inwardly shakes his head. Clarisse has the oddest thing about having a keen eye for the strangest things.

 

“Something like that, yeah,” his grin turns a little more upbeat.

 

“See ya then, Kelp Head. Don’t forget to keep in touch,” she pushes herself off the bed quickly and heads to the door, turning back to glance at him. “No one will judge you for loving Luke, you know. And Annabeth…she’ll get over it. Someday.”

 

“Thanks, Clarisse. Good luck with Chris,” he says sincerely and then the Daughter of Ares is gone.

 

He returns to packing.