#lead them both to believe (at least to an extent) that leo is fine and eats a totally healthy and ok amount of food (esp in comparison to d

[tangledinink]

new gemini update was so good as always but I can't stop thinking:

big mama: there's nothing wrong with my sons

splinter: you fucked up two perfectly good kids is what you did. look at blue. he's got an eating disorder

wwhhhattttt? nooo, don't be silly. leo doesn't have an eating disorder.

leo and donnie have eating disorders--

[golddaggers]

cruel summer

pairing: thor x reader;

warnings: well there are some mentions to smut but nothing explicit. maybe some curse words. nothing too extreme. 

a/n: okay so i am drunk and secretly on my mum’s laptop. forgive me any mistakes on it? i guess? and i’m breaking the dry spell on this blog!!! sheesh. i hope y’all like it and send me some feedback. it’s nice, really. 

word count: 2,8k+ i think

[summer]

The first time it happened was unintended. Drinks at the bar after a long, long day, a lot of careless flirting that turned into making out and eventually lead to where I knew I'd always end up: his arms.

In my defense, how was I supposed to say no to Thor? Say no to the gentleman he always was with me, a comforting hand always heavy on my shoulder when I needed it? Heck, how would I deny someone who would seek after me once we weren't in the battlefield just so he knew I was alright? I couldn't.

And of course, I wasn't going to be the one refusing that gorgeous man. So tall, so wild. Everything I wanted. Everything that seemed so out of reach.

But I should have found the will to say no. It was insane. We worked together, damn it. Given, we were both a little alcohol intoxicated and with a pent-up energy that was desperate, clawing its way out of our bodies. Nonetheless, by the end of the night we agreed, between shared breathy laughs in the dark, that we wouldn't do it again. That it was the sensible thing to do.

Lord knows what'd happen if Tony were to find out about this one night stand. We were lucky enough nobody saw us heading back to my apartment, a rented place in Cornelia Street. It was small and somewhat messy, still, the place was enough for the two of us. We christened every single room that night, ending sprawled on my bed, chuckling at our recklessness.

Being around him was easy as gasping for air. Plus, how can I say it? Thor had skills no man before him had showed me. Even the smallest of thoughts about it sends shivers down my spine. I indulge my mind then, contemplating on how easy it was for him to pick up on my tastes. He definitely spoilt me to other men in that aspect. Some others too.

I woke up in the morning after feeling sore everywhere. My legs felt as if they didn't belong to me any more, so I limped my way into the kitchen, finding him in nothing but black underwear. I was suddenly very conscious about my nudity, which was brushed off when he came to me, a childish grin followed by a peck on the cheek.

At that moment, I hoped we could really just keep this as a dirty little secret. It wouldn't happen again, we agreed, so we might as well linger a while longer. Enjoy whilst we could.

How wrong I was, though. Nearly every night along that summer, we kept finding our way towards each other, sloppily kissing while our bodies were one. Surrendering to an overwhelming desire that crept inside us. It felt like he was a strong magnetic force that kept me bound to him.

The bliss came to an unexpected halt when I saw him entirely invested in a conversation with somebody else. I was aware that I was in no place to be jealous, but she was so beautiful. The straight blond hair falling scarcely to the middle of her back, green eyes sparkling with the won interest of him. Body curved like an hourglass. My heart clenched, uneasy. I couldn't control it, not now.

I felt so silly to have trusted our rushed promises between the snaps of his hips against mine. It was obvious he didn't care about me like that, the crazed, jealousy infusing kind of way.  What in Heaven's name was I doing anyway? Was I out of my mind?

It was cruel to have allowed myself to do this. And stupid. We both agreed to no-strings-attached and here I was, so damn knotted. Sinking deep into something with no future. Typical me.  

From a distance, I watched as his eyes followed me out of Steve's birthday party, forcing myself to run to the back yard. I couldn't be around him. Couldn't let him see how wrecked I was.

The grass was wet below my bare feet when I took off my heels, throwing them to the side. At this point, I could feel the alcohol effects clouding my brain, I needed some time to calm down, to get my shit together.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" His hand was warm on my shoulder, "You left in a hurry."

I was sitting on a cold swing, my head resting against the chain. Green grass pickled my feet, it grounded me to the present. To what was truly happening. I often slipped into my thoughts, blocking out everything else.

This was a moment I wanted to keep.

"I'm fine," I shrugged, croaking out a response, I didn't want him to know I was crying, "I mean it. I just needed to catch some air."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Thor, I am," Wiping away the tears discreetly, I hoped my puffy eyes would go unnoticed, "You don't have to worry about me."

There was a shift in his breath, a low chuckle, and he stood before me, one hand cupping my cheek. In that position, he looked even more massive than he already was and it made me feel tiny, meaningless.

Molten deep blue bored into my soul when I dared to look up at him. He was lost, unsure what to say, how to deal with me when I was like that. I knew Thor didn't want to hurt my feelings or burn the bridge that kept our friend in place. He was scared. Just as I was.  

"I always will." Thor whispers then, deep and certain, "We are, as you say it, screwing things, are we not?"

"What do you mean?" My mouth suddenly feels dry.

"This, being together-"

"The thing is, we aren't," A huff slips from me, "We aren't together, Thor. Isn't that what we agreed? That it was too risky to date?"

"I recall us saying we would test things, that this… It was a trying out."

I got back on my feet then, his figure still dwarfing me. There was no refraining on touching him, my hand gently palming his strong torso, avoiding his eyes - Yes, we would try to make it work. But could we? It was easy to destroy everything at this point.

The thought of breaking up with him, severing the ties that bound us together… I don't think I would ever fully recover. It wouldn't ever be the same. That heartbreak was the kind time couldn't ever mend.

Thor was so gentle when he lifted my chin, I melted into him, a smile pulling up the corners of my lips.

"Do you want to leave this party? Go somewhere else, just the two of us?"

"What if somebody sees us?" Anxiety peaked, sweat hoarding under my bare armpits, "You know how they can be with inside dating."

A laugh fills the buzzing silent night, cutting through the insistent crickets' sound. He tugs me even closer, arms around my waist lifting me up off the ground just a hair. With forearms bare, I could feel the full extent of his sizzling skin on mine.

Our lips brush in a tender kiss, it's quick and soothing. In that moment, I feel I would stay there forever.

Wind stings my cheeks and the sky cracks. I chuckle, cocky. It feels nice to know I evoke such strong emotions on him. Powerful, even.

"Let's leave. Now," A subtle command underneath his composed voice, "I cannot…"

I tilt my head, feigning curiosity, which is dismissed as fast as it came. The night breeze dips colder, my body starts to shiver, he can notice very well how I am in need of warmth. Likewise, I notice what he means. The reading between the lines. I smile.

We leave, then. Sneaking out from different places. I tell Natasha I feel a little bit under the weather, I blame the glasses of champagne. She seems to believe. I don't know what Thor tells the others. It doesn't matter.

Later, I am pouring myself some water. Chilled, I am thirsty for it. Thor's still half asleep in the bed, snug to one of my pillows. There's this urge, for me to watch him, to observe the soft creases by his eyes, so peaceful. Not the warrior I know, just a man. A tired man.

He's been through so much.

My lips, they're still rather swollen, press against his forehead. He sighs, tightening his arms to the soft of the pillow, mumbling for me to get back. It's cold. It's late. I indulge, finding my place amidst his arms.

Yes, I would stay forever.

If he'd let me.

[late fall]

The nightclub was trembling with the loud song. It had been Wanda's idea. A celebration for Tony and Pepper's engagement. She held a strong point, we needed a break, all this pressure on fighting had taken its toll, each and every one of us were in need of a light gathering.

Brown leaves floated around me. Alcohol pumping through my veins. I needed air, needed to think. For about a month now, Thor had been gone. Said he needed some time to think, to gather himself after losing his brother. I understood. Of course.

Only after I heard that Jane had returned to the United States I truthfully comprehended. It was never about Loki, no. He needed to find out if he had got over his ex and that reached my gut like a sharp knife.

That is why you should never cultivate hope. It's deceiving and impelling to get you hurt. To be surrounded by the knowledge I was his band-aid… That forced tears to cloud my vision. I had to end this. Everything.

My tiny black dress didn't do much for the fall weather, but it took me several minutes to realise I was shaking from the cold, not my compulsive crying. I wanted to go home, so I did. Tugged Nat by the elbow, she seemed worried, though she didn't ask why my eyes were puffy and tiny mascara lines stained my cheeks. I told her to send Pep my apologies.

Leo greeted me when I returned home, his bright orange fur tickling my calves as he rubbed himself into me. Poor thing, he wasn't used to me being gone for so long. I had found him not shy from two weeks and, in the meanwhile, hadn't picked up any new missions, hence all my time was for him.

It clicked, at that instant, work was my way out of this situation I threw myself in. Plus I was sure kicking some douchebag's ass would at least make me feel avenged. I'd pretend it was him.

"Your mama will come back to you," I murmured, already tucked into my bed, my cat's green eyes staring at me in plain curiosity, "Be sure of that."

Next thing I know, I'm in a different state, running. Trouble followed wherever I went, so I was counting on that to find some sort of peace of mind. To let all my insecurities behind. And it sufficed.

At first, anyway.

Tony would call Friday evenings, surprised that I had finished things already. To be fair, I trained for this, a warrior's mind prepared to find the best solution in the smallest of time. My father, should he be alive, would be proud.

Hotel rooms were passive, cold. I hated being there, the neat wallpaper and golden furniture. Only during those nights, in which I wasn't tired enough to ignore my surroundings, I would think of him.

In my memories, it came his smile first, a hand stretched before me so we could dance in the middle of my living room, under the pale light of the moon sneaking past the window. I felt so safe then. Laughing like a child.

Eyes closed, my mind drifts. I see everything and I cry. No one cares if I am loud, so my sobs fill the room, the pillows being thrown away. I hated that I allowed myself to be led on, to be a mere, ordinary replacement.

My phone lit in the black, a few nights later, a single text showed. Come back. That simply wasn't enough now.

[winter]

Reality sinks in at ease, my entire body aching. Last thing I remembered was being in a fight. Two guys, maybe three. I knew I could take them, wouldn't have said yes if I assumed otherwise. Or maybe I was being extra reckless.

Either way, it came with a price. A deep pungle of a knife, just below my ribcage, I was lucky to be back in New York, lucky to find in me to call Steve, lucky that he picked it. Crimson red pain washed through me, I lied still in his arms.

After, all turned into a blur. There were bright, white lights above. A clean, septic-smelling room. Slouched on the couch, long legs pried open, Thor slept. So alike to my dreams, I deemed to be asleep.

The soft grunt of pain spilling past my lips woke him, deep blue into me. I looked the other way, this was much harder.

"Why… I tried talking to you."

"I know," My voice is coarse, I must have been asleep for hours, "I didn't want to hear you. Didn't want to face reality."

He stands, mighty, handsome.

"What reality?" A wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows, he's confused, I realise, "Birdie, tell me."

"Don't call me that," I frown, it's much too intimate, "Not when you are about to break up with me. I know about Jane."

There's a moment of stillness, Thor doesn't come any closer to my bed. Confusion switches to a hint of anger. I feel he's about to say I am not entitled to say anything about Jane when I called Steve first. Steve, my old crush. His friend. He doesn't like to know he was the last to be aware of my injuries.

Or at least I think he feels this way.

"What about Jane?" He asks then, a large hand grasping one of my own, "I have the right to know," His voice is soft, "Please."

"I heard Pepper telling Nat. I just… Well, you were always so in love with her!" Shameful tears escape, "I thought…"

"Thought she would come back and I would open my arms to someone who left me?" Bitterness soaks his remark, "Look at me," It's childish, but I don't, I want him to touch me, to smoothly grip my chin and make me look at him, which he does, rough fingertips just right on my skin, "I should have made it clear that all I wanted was to be with you. From the beginning. Somehow I think all of this is my fault-"

"Thor…"

"Let me," Thumb strokes my cheekbone, I nod, "It is my fault because I let you think I was not serious about this. My fault I complied to your request to keep it between us."

The thrum of my heart intensifies, I can feel it on my ribs. Never in my life someone had made me so nervous, anxious. I have isolated myself, pushed him out of my life, yet, here he is, apologising for something that wasn't his fault.

I wanted to hug him.

"This time away helped me to realise I am very serious, because all I could think about, dream about, was you. Little and armourless in my arms," Blue flickers, it's bright, shiny, a sea in daylight, "I love you. And I am sure that is the worst thing you have ever heard."

A smirk crosses my face, I can't help it. There's nothing I can say. I whisper, like a secret, a confidence, that I love him too. Have been loving him for quite a while. It was torture being away from him and I meant it.

Nobody could convince him to leave, not when the nurse came to change my bandages or Tony swung by to talk. Our hands rested intertwined the whole time.

Track of time was something we didn't focus on. I cried at some point, regretting the way I acted. It was my tendency to break things I loved, to be insecure they'd leave anyway then taking one step in advance. It's better to leave before you get left.

Thor comforted me, pulling me to lie closer. The bed was small, so we had to be super snug to one another. I wasn't complaining. I missed the warmth. Missed the light conversations.

We filled in the blanks, talked until we could do nothing except enjoy the nice silence. Sleeping together. An old, yet renewed, intimacy.

Now I was sure I'd stay there forever.

"Promise?" The sun was peeking through the curtains, I was still sleepy, soft between his arms, "Promise you will stay forever?"

I smile, eyes closed still, a syrupy happiness spreading as fast as the daylight embalming us.

"I promise," It's hushed, meant for him, "Forever. All your summers."

A happy, smooth laugh slips from him, Thor brings me closer, a tight embrace. I feel, after everything, truly happy. A cruel summer, a happy winter.

There was no doubt from this forward, they'd all be happy. I was certain, that was everything I needed from him to completely surrender. Certainty.

I surrendered.

--

tags!

forever

@sea040561 @momc95 @qxeen-of-hearts

marvel

@frenfics @mrscutiefandobhaz

thor

@lancsnerd @odinson-barnes @rishlo​ @desia22

[desperauxtilling]

nothing without you (jason/nico)

or, the one where jason and nico are estranged and nico shows up bleeding on jasons doorstep because he didnt know where else to go

inspired by the wonderful @fuocogo. happy jasico saturday, friends!!

Jason’s in his same clothes from yesterday so Nico assumes he hasn’t slept. He glances at the dim digital clock on the stove. “It’s four in the morning,” he tells Jason, who only nods as he turns around, dishing some food onto a plate. “Why are you cooking hamburgers?”

Nico isn’t running away.

That’s what he tells Will when he’s stuffing ambrosia and nectar into his knapsack, raiding the infirmary for all it’s worth, and pushing him off from trying to give a goodbye kiss. That’s what he tells Hazel when he’s telling her that he’ll be gone for a few weeks and not to worry, trying not to read into the wrinkles of her brow in her watery projection.

He’s loathe to believe there’s a manticore nest causing this much trouble in a college town, but his father pays well. He’s offering him more missions lately, trying to draw him out of the slump he’s fallen in. It’s been… what, a year and a half? No, longer, since Jason left for college.

Jason didn’t cut them off.

That’s what he told Nico when their calls got few and far between. Before and after he left both camps for good to get a space his own in a city far away. That’s what he told Leo and Piper when they came over uninvited and he told them that yes, he loved them, but he wasn’t taking guests and wanted a warning next time.

Jason is the one who ran away. Everyone thought it would be Nico. But Jason needed away from his powerful father, his haunting mother, and everything that gave him that baggage in the first place. He loves his friends, loves the camps, but it was too much for him. Nico understands. It’s selfish, but he wishes he could do the same. And as angry as he is at Jason for leaving, he isn’t nearly as upset for Jason not asking him to come with.

Nico isn’t alone. He has Hazel, he has Reyna. Percy and Annabeth now have reforged--or, finally forged a friendship with him. Even Will, to an extent. That’s gotten less sour even after their breakup. Piper has become an unexpected heart, and Leo and Frank can relate to his geekier tendencies.

But Jason… Jason’s absence leaves this obnoxious itch. It’s a scab and it won’t bleed, he’s too careful when he picks at it for that, but it itches the back of his mind and every part of his skin that Jason’s ever touched and behind his eyes since he can only see Jason in his memory now.

It’s itching on every bus ride. He would shadow travel but he wants to save his strength for the manticore nest, and he likes the contemplation of long, lonely roads. It’s itching when he reaches the hole in the wall blinking beastly eyes back at him. It’s itching cold and he freezes when a manticore slinks out and lunges for him because he’s suddenly not seventeen, he’s just a child back on that snowy mountain with his sister and there’s no Percy, no Jason, he’s just alone.

What a stupid mistake.

Nico grips his bleeding stomach and slumps against a crumbling wall. Shit. The manticores are fading into dust, now, but one of their tails pierced his right side in his foolish frozen state. He tries to breathe and coughs red specks into his hand. Double shit.

Camp Halfblood isn’t too far away. He might be out for a day or two after shadow travelling in this state, but he could do it. Then again, he thinks of Will. Nico would rather take his chances alone than get lectured by Will about being careful and taking care of himself and not running away. Well, he isn’t running away. But he knows he won’t believe him. Hazel and Reyna, wonderful though they are, probably won’t either. He doesn’t want to risk their disappointment. Gods he loves them but he knows they’ll just look at him like he’s an ill fourteen year old again. He can’t handle that right now.

Nico isn’t sure where to go.

Well, that isn’t true. Nico has friends, he has options. But there’s only one place he wants to go. The only place he’s wanted to go out of everywhere he’s been the last almost three years. Gods, has it been that long? He just wants to see Jason again. Because Jason is the one who ran away and now it’s up to Nico to chase him. He lets that thought consume him and steps into shadow.

He hits his head on the door of an apartment when he emerges from the darkness and hisses. The wound on his stomach gapes open, no matter how tight his fist clenches in his shirt. He uses his other to brace himself against the doorframe. He hears shifting, footsteps inside. A familiar weight casting shadow behind the door. Nico almost sobs.

When Jason opens the door, he stops cold. His golden hair is slightly longer, now, curling lovely over his ears. It shines with his imperial glasses. His eyes are still that annoying sky blue that gave Nico courage to brave heights again. He wonders if he’s changed any in Jason’s eyes while he takes in Nico standing on his doormat. There’s a shocked almost smile curving his lips before he sees the blood Nico’s trailing on his boots and Jason’s paw print patterned doormat. How dorky, Nico thinks in his haze of consciousness. “N… Nico--?”

Nico opens his mouth to speak but his throat is so dry, blood coating the back of his tongue. His vision is getting hazy. The thought occurs that he isn’t sure what he would say even if he wasn’t bleeding all over Jason’s doorstep. “... Didn’t know where else to go,” he whispers. That’s when he gives up standing and sinks to his knees. At least the mat is cushioned.

“Oh--oh no, shit,” Jason curses. He tries sliding his arms under Nico’s to help him stand but it only makes him groan in pain. Black spots dance in his vision. “Nico--” His voice cracks. He sweeps him up in his arms and Nico lets his head loll on Jason’s shoulder. He’s warm. He still smells the same--cool air, damp autumn leaves. He steadies his tone and kicks the door shut behind him. “Stay awake, Nico.”

“Mmm,” he mumbles back. Jason must not realize how hard that is, with Nico cradled in his strong, warm arms. Jason sets him upright on a couch and Nico wonders if it’s simply coincidence that everything he owns is so soft and welcoming. It’s not fair.

Jason’s footsteps recede and Nico’s left shivering and gasping for air, but soon enough he’s back with ambrosia, bandages, and some other essentials. “I need to take off your jacket and your shirt, Nico, so I can get a look at the wound. Is that okay?”

There’s no need to be so respectful when Nico’s baring his guts on Jason’s couch, but he appreciates it. He nods and Jason carefully, quickly peels the clothes off of him and rolls Nico onto his good side to inspect the wound.

“Oh, Gods,” Jason mutters. The snip of scissors. Cold cloth and a stinging in his wound. Jason’s fingers gracing his lips, prying his mouth open to feed him ambrosia. However long, Nico remains in a vaguely conscious state, wondering if maybe the manticore actually killed him and his father’s just granting him one last lovely vision in his last few moments of life.

Jason’s brows knit in concentration while he cleans and stitches the wound. His tongue sticks out of the side of his mouth, just slightly. A cute habit Nico noticed long ago. His glasses are crooked from his frenzy to save Nico. He tries to comment but it only comes out a long wheeze.

“Save your strength,” the son of Jupiter murmurs, resting a hand on his pulsing stomach.

Nico forces his shaking hand over Jason’s and squeezes it. Reaches a little farther, straining his wound to fix Jason’s glasses and brush a lock behind his ear. Worth it, he decides even when his vision blurs. Jason’s wide eyes are clear and in a moment of impulse, while Nico’s wrist is pressed to his cheek, he turns his head and breathes him in. The flutter of his lips is almost a kiss. Almost.

Maybe an hour passes when he’s done bleeding and Jason’s bandages are taut across his ribs. He stares at the ceiling, a soiled, pale yellow that Jason, only Jason, has managed to make feel homey. He’s slumped against the couch at Nico’s feet, wiping sweat from his brow. He hands Nico a bottle of water which he greedily gulps down.

Now that everything’s clearer, it’s more sour, too. Some of his resentment toward Jason is rising again. Jason was more than happy to stitch Nico up, no questions asked, but he doesn’t want to deal with the repercussions of showing up at his doorstep. But really, what was Nico expecting? Some easy fix and happy ending to the stillness that’s stifled them?

Now he’s awake enough for his wound to sting and regrets to sink in. The blanket Jason draped over his legs is the heaviest lead. He slowly caps the water bottle. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jason says. Silence stretches between them as Jason gathers up the scattered medical supplies. “I’ll go set up the guest room. I think you’ll be more comfortable there. You can stay as long as you want.”

Nico pulls the blanket up over his shoulder with a wince and closes his eyes. “I’ll be gone by morning.”

Jason stands abruptly. “But… you’re injured.”

He waves a dismissive hand to show Jason he’s fine, no matter how much his stomach throbs in response. “I’ve had worse.”

“Had wor--” the son of Jupiter repeats softly. “Nico, it’s been years. Are you all right?”

Nico turns to lay on his stomach, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. He’s embarrassed himself enough already. Who is he to call Jason selfish for doing exactly what Nico may have done? He’s too close to this situation and too full of emotion. Maybe he’ll come back in another week, or month, or year, once he’s decided he has something to actually say. “Good night, Grace.”

Nico sleeps fitfully, drawn in and out of consciousness by his wound. He hears Jason mulling around sometimes, restless, rearranging things in his apartment. Sometimes he sits at the foot of the couch. Sometimes he sits so close that his hair touches Nico’s, soft blond tufts drawn into his dark, sweat-soaked strands. It could all have happened in a manner of minutes or hours and Nico would be none the wiser to the passing of time.

He wakes up when it’s still dark and he can breathe with his side again. Jason’s left his jacket and a camp shirt at the edge of the couch, since Nico’s own was too torn to mend. The shirt seems new, hardly worn. Perhaps Jason took it with for a memento, only for it to become too heavy and burdened with the past, and letting it find home in the dark recesses of a closet or hamper. Soft and purple, it smells like Jason, so he lets it slide.

Sometime during the night Jason removed his boots and set them beside the couch. Probably hoping that would entice a more comfortable Nico into staying longer. Nico’s lacing up his boots again when he smells something delicious. His stomach growls and he has to admit, he’s curious and starving, so he follows his nose to a quaint kitchen.

Jason’s in his same clothes from yesterday so Nico assumes he hasn’t slept. He glances at the dim digital clock on the stove. “It’s four in the morning,” he tells Jason, who only nods as he turns around, dishing some food onto a plate. “Why are you cooking hamburgers?”

He sets two plates on a small, weathered round table. “I was hoping to catch you for breakfast before you go.” And I couldn’t sleep is left unsaid.

He’s finding it harder and harder to hang onto the frustration he feels toward Jason. “Burgers, though?”

“Only food I remember you liking.” He gives a lopsided grin, kind, apologetic. Nico’s resentment melts so easily with just a look from him. It’s unnerving how quickly Jason can disarm him with the smallest motion of his lips. Even moreso that Nico lets him. Welcomes it, even. He’s missed it the last… however long Jason’s been gone.

He squints, scooting the chair aside to take a seat, insisting, “I do eat other things.”

Jason sits too. “Like?”

“Chicken tenders.” He’s talking with his mouth full and Jason can deal with it.

“You’re joking.”

He licks burger grease from his fingertips. “Half-joking,” Refuses his napkin just to watch Jason squirm. “Pizza’s good, too.”

“I thought our American cuisine would offend your good Italian sensibilities,” Jason chuckles. He seems less concerned with eating, instead watching Nico through lidded eyes. He wonders if that’s because Jason is too fond or too tired.

“I’ll go easy on you just this once,” Nico replies. “For old time’s sake.” Demigods don’t traditionally live long, so the last few years apart may as well account for an eternity, if how much he missed Jason is all he has to go on.

They lapse into a comfortable silence and Nico is happy to gorge himself while Jason watches, somewhere between amused and concerned. “You’re eating.” Nico blinks. “I mean, uh--it’s good. You’ve got your appetite back.”

Nico snorts. “Lot of good that does me. Will says I’m not likely to get any taller.” It only has an eensy bit to do with the malnutrition that’s plagued Nico most of his life.

At the mention of his name, Jason’s brow creases. He lingers on the bite in his mouth, as though it’s become lead, hard to swallow. “How is Will, by the way?” He thumps his chest with his fist.

“Fine. Annoying. You know how he is.” Nico sucks the grease out of his hamburger bun. “We broke up a while ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jason’s response is so flat and unsympathetic that Nico almost laughs. So he calls him out on it. “You’re not.”

He sighs and eventually agrees. “No, I’m not.”

They don’t talk much. Nico wants to fill him in on everything that’s happened, or relate some story or joke to him, but he has to delve into a long string of explanation that makes Jason’s eyes sag. So they give up on talking about camp and Jason doesn’t talk about his mundane mortal charade.

All he says is, “It’s nice. I feel like I can breathe for once. There are monsters, still, sometimes. But it’s quiet. Peaceful. Almost perfect.” His gaze flickers across the table and the son of Hades squirms in his seat. There’s an unspoken regret there, heavy as autumn rain. Nico can feel that same weight in his chest. It’s a little hard to breathe, suddenly, when Jason’s looking at him like that. He takes Nico’s greasy, calloused hand in his own. So warm, so perfect. “You could stay, if you like. Not forever. Just...”

Gods, Nico wants nothing more. He bites his lip, brushing his thumb over the back of Jason’s hand. “You left for a reason. Right?” And the manticore’s claws have nothing on the ache of his heart. His voice is deep and deadpan. “It had to be a good reason for you to leave like that.” To leave me.

Jason bows his head. “I thought… at the time, I thought it was a good reason. Lately, I’ve been having doubts.” Nico does not bare his heart, does not inflict upon Jason every scathing word and teary night that’s attributed to his absence. He just stares at Jason and drinks in the sorrow seeping through his hands into Nico. And it all comes crashing into his chest when Jason apologizes in the softest voice Nico’s ever heard.

“I know.” Nico lets their fingers intertwine. They sit at the table holding hands, food left forgotten on their plates, and the next time he blinks it’s sunrise. Sweet mauve tints Jason’s glasses through the kitchen blinds. He’s giddy and fourteen again, all the hurt and heart in the world when Jason gives him a smile.

“I can’t shadow travel back home like this,” Nico says finally. Jason blinks. “And I don’t feel like taking public transportation back to New York.”

A smile widens Jason’s face. “You mean--”

“I’m injured,” Nico reaffirms. “I’ll need food. If it’s not too much trouble--”

“Are you kidding? Of course not!” Jason stands and spreads his arms for a hug then abruptly pauses. “Oh. Sorry, uh, I forgot. No touching.” As if they hadn’t been holding hands for the last twenty minutes. Maybe longer.

Nico raises his arms just so Jason can slide his around his waist. “You’re the exception, remember?”

The sunrise isn’t what tints his face pink when he approaches Nico for a hug. It’s firm and comfortable. He missed this feeling so much. Jason’s warm arms around him, the way his head nestles in the crook of Nico’s neck, how his breath settles on the edge of Nico’s ear, the snug clasp of his hands at Nico’s low back.

“I can’t believe it took this long for this place to really feel like home.” Jason’s voice trembles when speaks.

Nico sighs and sinks deeper into him. He can’t believe it’s taken this long for both of them to accept that. So he kicks off his boots and tells Jason he’ll stay for dinner tonight (That’s all I can say, no promises) and they’ll go from there.