<b>Me:</b> Gotta study<p/><b>Brain:</b> Gotta fanfic<p/><b>Me:</b> But homework<p/><b>Brain:</b> Fanfiction<p/><b>Me:</b> No! I have to study and I don't want to fail this cl...<p/><b>Brain:</b> FanfiCTION<p/><b>Me:</b> I said no!<p/><b>Brain:</b> *slowly* gAy fAnFiCtIoN<p/><b>Me:</b> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)<p/></p>
I just really want Percy and Annabeth to have some slow, quiet days together after this quest is over. Annabeth shows up at the Jackson-Blofis house late at night one day, and Sally says, “Oh, honey,” and lets her in, gets her out of her wet jacket and boots, and wraps her up in a blanket on the couch. She gets her a cup of tea and kisses Annabeth’s forehead and goes to get her son, who wakes entirely too easily these days, sitting up at the slightest touch on his arm. “Annabeth’s here,” she tells him, not sure he’s entirely awake yet for the slow blink he gives her, and she follows him as he shuffles down the hall and flops onto the couch, placing his head on Annabeth’s shoulder. Sally watches them in silence for a while before letting them have their space.
Quiet, late mornings in the kitchen, the both of them with bed-head and rumpled pajamas, Percy without a shirt, Annabeth in shorts and his sweatshirt. Percy makes them blue-batter blueberry pancakes and Annabeth sits on the counter and draws her finger across the newest scar on her thigh, the skin still puckered and angry. Percy cuts off the burner and turns to see the look on her face. He stands between her knees and nudges her hand away, traces his own fingers across the line, bends down to press his lips against the slowly healing wound.
Taking Mrs. O'Leary for a walk. Watching TV with Paul. Listening to Sally read excerpts of the latest draft of her novel. Going to the museum. Standing on the subway, Percy pulling her in close, Annabeth hooking her thumb in his belt loop, leaning in.
A whole day spent in bed. Lazy pillow fights; tugging the more comfortable one out from underneath the other’s head. Getting tangled in the covers. Reading. Channel surfing. Watching videos on Percy’s phone. Looking at all the pictures they’ve taken, adventures had, the faces of lost friends bringing tears to Percy’s eyes. Annabeth feels the hitch in his breath as her cheek rests on his chest, and she moves up so that she can wrap her arms around him, situating his ear over her heart.
Slow, lingering kisses. Gentle fingers brushing across long patches of skin, lingering on scars visible and long-gone and the memories they pull forth, touching constellations of freckles and dark ink on forearms. Drifting to sleep and waking up and drifting off again, and murmuring stories in the in-between. Once, when I was ten– my mother used to take me to her store– my dad used to do this thing with his coffee– I miss that safehouse– we went to this fountain and–
Part of one another and yet still curious and separate and whole, learning, still, after all this time. Learning. Remembering. Breathing in time, because they’re both here, together, and they can.
can i just have annabeth canonically basically living at percy’s place
like a moment where percy comes home from swim practice to find annabeth sprawled out on his couch and his mom in the kitchen making cookies for her. and he’s all like, “move over,” and she’s like “no, i was here first.” and percy goes “you don’t even livE HERE” and sally starts laughing from the kitchen and annabeth smiles and says, “you missed a lot when hera kidnapped you.”