Chapter Text
It started off good, which with his luck, meant it couldn’t possibly stay that way.
Chiron had IMed Percy to let him know that now was a bad time at camp and to come next weekend instead of this one. Percy had to admit to himself how relieved he was. It wasn’t like he was dreading going to camp or anything, because that would be ridiculous. Don’t get him wrong, he liked camp. He just had a lot of school work to do, and he could use the weekend to recuperate and besides, it had been a long and emotional week for him and Annabeth both.
The last thing he wanted to do was talk to some random campers, while pretending like he wasn’t being gawked at by all the newcomers. Right now, he just wanted to take things easy.
Annabeth looked just as relieved as he felt when he then IMed her that morning, and then of course, she had asked if he wanted to come over to study and really, they had every intention to study.
“Percy,” Annabeth said, exasperated, which let him know he had about two minutes to get it together before she went from ‘fondly annoyed’ to just ‘regular’ annoyed. “You’re overthinking it. Do you want to try again?”
Percy probably was overthinking it, but that didn’t make it any easier. Annabeth’s dorm was lit in the low light of the fairy lights hanging from the other side of the room and the candle that was lit was emitting some very delicious floral smell that helped set the mood.
Reruns of Love is Blind were playing in the background, on the tiny TV that belonged to Annabeth’s roommate, sitting on her roommate’s desk. It usually would be fine because it was a rerun and it was now muted, but his brain wanted to suddenly latch onto the TV instead of the situation at hand.
The desk was scattered with a combination of his stuff and Annabeth’s, a mixture of textbooks, binders, folders, blue prints and designs, bags of chips and cans of pop. Annabeth’s school laptop was centered on the table, turned off, but ready to turn on to type up their papers or projects if needed.
He swore he really had come over to study. They both skipped school the other day- not that he minded though, because what guy didn’t want to skip school to hang with his girlfriend? This just meant that they absolutely had to get work done, and they both had important projects coming up. Percy had been providing his input towards her Senior Capstone Project, and she was helping him with Chemistry.
Things were going okay. Percy could tell they both were frustrated from school, but they were now happy to spend the weekend together, even if Percy was panicking slightly about the timeline. But he’d make it work, he always did, right. That’s how it always worked.
They stayed focused for the first few hours. They had managed to get Annabeth’s proposal submitted, at least, and Percy’s chemistry worksheet was halfway done, so they were making progress.
Annabeth’s roommate had been out with friends since before Percy even arrived, much to his great relief. And then, some time later, she had texted Annabeth to let her know that she’d be sleeping over somewhere else. Percy had been good and pretended like he didn’t care and kept his eyes on his textbook, giving her a vague nod. (His blood was already running south.)
Annabeth had waited a few minutes, with that look in her eye that had his pants tightening even more than they already were, and then she blurted out:
“I would love it if you initiated more.”
Percy hadn’t realized this had been a problem until she said this, and then he started replaying everything over in his mind and realized she was right. He didn’t really initiate sex. Annabeth was usually the one to give him a look, or an indication with something she said, and he was always more than happy to comply.
But when he thought back to it, she was right. He never really initiated it before. He couldn’t explain why. He loved having sex with her and believed him, she had no issues turning him on.
Of course, after Percy realized she was right, he initiated sex right then and there. It had been awhile since they’ve had actual penetrative sex, and he kinda forgot that they hadn't actually had it that much in general. Some things were still so new and even though they’re certainly way past that awkward first time, Percy still had some hang ups and insecurities. Case in point.
Gods, Annabeth would be so upset if she knew he was still overthinking it. She was right. He just needed to try again. He wanted to do this, he wanted to try again, he told her he wanted to try again. His cock had been interested since the minute he knew they’d have the room to themselves for the rest of the night.
Slowly, Percy gripped himself at the base of his cock and pumped himself back up to full hardness. That wasn’t the issue here. The sight of Annabeth naked, sprawled on her stomach, back arched easily made him ready to go, even leaking precum over his fist.
Her head was resting on her pillow, tilted to the side. The muscles in her back flexed as she settled in. Her hair fell over one shoulder, and when she looked at him, he ached in his own hand. She was beautiful.
“Okay, Seaweed Brain?” she asked softly, and Percy heard the insecurity in her voice. There was no pretense of confidence or anything. She was doubting herself now, even though it wasn’t her. She was as beautiful and as hot as ever and he was so turned on. (Horny, though he hated that word.)
Get a grip, Percy told himself, because the absolute last thing he wanted was for her to feel self conscious or insecure.
“Okay,” he told her, determined, and she hugged the pillow closer to her face, closing her eyes and waiting.
Percy positioned himself on his knees, grabbed her hips, and gently entered her. And here was the thing, it felt good. It felt overwhelmingly good, the way it always did. She was so wet, because of him, (glistening, his brain helpfully supplied) which was still incredulous even now. Annabeth grunted against the pillow, and the sound had Percy gripping her hips a little too hard.
It felt great and then Annabeth turned her head to completely obscure her face in the pillow, and Percy got maybe two thrusts in before he started going soft. Again.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his heart sinking.
He tried to stay hard, digging his fingers into Annabeth’s hips hard enough to leave his finger prints. He hoped her skin against his would help as he tried pushing back into her, but he did it too fast and too hard, sort of jamming it in, and all it did was make her yelp.
“Sorry!” he cried and his dick practically wilted. The situation was making him go soft too fast and Annabeth had to have felt it. That thought wasn’t helping him. “Um, hold on, let me just-”
“Okay, stop.” Annabeth held up her hand, palm up, fingers flexing. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, not looking at him. “I’m done. I’m done.”
Immediately, Percy pulled himself out of her, which wasn’t hard to do with his dick now being almost fully soft again.
This was not good. He could hear how hurt she sounded, and she kept her face pressed into the pillow, not looking at him. He knew if she opened her eyes he’d see her cry, and his gut twisted, his heart clenching.
He felt awful. His first real time initiating, and it was a disaster.
“Is it me?” Annabeth whispered. The words got caught in her throat, her voice cracking off at the end. He had obviously hurt her feelings, and he could just see the insecurity rolling off her. “Do I look bad from this angle or something?”
“No!” Percy rushed to assure her. He reached for her, but she flinched away from him, and he thought he might cry himself. “No, Annabeth, I swear. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not you.”
It really wasn’t. Annabeth’s ass was one of his favorite features, not that he ever felt comfortable ever admitting that. Annabeth was gorgeous. There was no way she could ever look bad, in any position. She could have a bad case of bed head, sick in bed, wearing ratty clothing, with a runny nose, and he’d still get turned on by her. He didn’t know what it was right now, but something just didn’t feel right. He just couldn’t explain what.
Annabeth just shook her head, still not looking at him. He was still on his knees, his cock now soft between his thighs, and he knew they were about to enter a territory neither of them had been prepared for.
“Annabeth,” he begged quietly, swallowing against a lump in his throat. He repositioned himself so he was sitting back down instead of kneeling, trying to get some blood flow back to his head. “Please look at me.”
His body was on high alert, thrumming with guilt and shame, and he truly did feel awful. He was too aware of the silence that was becoming them, settling into the room.
They’ve had mishaps before: Annabeth gagging herself, awkward thrusts, not being able to find a rhythm, hands in weird places, etc. Those had all been natural though, and almost expected with them being fumbling teens with no experience.
This was different. This was not an awkward misstep. Percy couldn’t keep an erection with Annabeth like this and he didn’t know why. He initially had no issue getting hard. He never even had to try, it just became natural when she looked at him, and he really had been eager to try a new position. He wasn’t lying when he said Annabeth looked hot on her stomach like this, back arched, ass up, but something had flipped when she had gotten on her stomach and pressed her face into her pillow.
“Annabeth,” Percy begged, more quietly this time. “Please.”
Annabeth lifted her head, opening her eyes. His stomach clenched again at the sight of the tears, the way it always did when she cried in front of him, but it was worse knowing it was him responsible for them. He was causing her this insecurity. He was making her feel like she wasn’t desirable and that was not what he meant to do.
Percy had never felt like such a dick before. “It’s not you,” he told her quietly. “I promise, it’s not you.”
There was a beat of that heavy silence, before she nodded, to his relief. She flipped herself so that she was lying on her back, and brought the covers up to her chin. “Okay,” she whispered, not looking at him. “It’s okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about it.”
“You didn’t,” Percy assured her, voice tight and he reached for the covers. Annabeth let him crawl into the bed next to her, adjusting the covers so they fell over both of them. “Sex was on my mind the second your roommate texted.”
It felt wrong to admit and that was the frustrating thing. He didn’t know why.
The whole thing was not okay and though he could appreciate her effort, Percy could also understand enough to know that while she wasn’t kicking him out, she also was incapable of anything else, either. She had meant it when she said she was done, and he knew her enough by now that she was shutting down, all systems off, overwhelmed and out of control.
And that was fine, because he knew her by now to know when she got like that and he loved her, flaws and all, but Percy was suspended there, unsure what to say or do next. He thought that he felt the same as Annabeth: overwhelmed and out of control.
Annabeth took a deep breath, her eyes locked on the ceiling above them. “You didn’t try to start anything though.”
Percy nodded, not knowing what else to say. He had wanted to have sex, but he hadn’t even considered trying anything until Annabeth had asked him why he didn’t initiate. He had initiated sex right then and there and he really did want to, it was so hard for her, but obviously something was wrong.
Annabeth reached for his hand and he let her. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Percy. But I think maybe you don’t like to initiate sex.”
His first thought was to protest and tell her she was wrong, but he saw the trepidation on her face and he forced himself to exhale and he squeezed her hand. “I don’t know what it is. I love having sex with you.”
Annabeth smiled, but it was tight and tense. “I guess you’re just a gentleman, huh?”
It was supposed to be a light joke, and she didn’t mean anything by it, but he flinched. Something stirred within him, like repressed memories trying to break their way to the surface, but not quite getting there.
When he didn’t respond, Annabeth rolled over onto her shoulder to look at him and sighed. “It’s okay, Percy. We’ll figure it out together.”
And despite all his worries, Percy couldn’t help but look at her fondly, because it was such an Annabeth thing to say. He really hoped she knew it wasn’t her, and though he didn’t think she ever would be mad at something like this, he knew it must be frustrating. He was frustrated at himself and overall, it was pretty embarrassing.
He hoped he did figure out what this was, because he did not want this to happen again.
Percy liked to play a game sometimes. He called it, “What can my subconscious conjure up for me tonight?” Sometimes, his nightmares were very unoriginal and they just replayed him making the wrong choice and not giving the knife to Luke. Or, his brain replays him and Annabeth falling over and over again.
Other times, he got creative in his sleep, like when his mom first announced she was pregnant and he had that dream of all the gods having baby bumps. Percy could appreciate those ones. They kept things interesting, at least.
Dreaming of Smelly Gabe wasn’t something he did often, and not something he’s done in a very long time. Even the night of the party, surrounded by all the alcohol, hadn’t made him think too much of his ex stepfather.
It’s more of an old memory than a fully fictionalized dream, which makes it worse. Percy had never known Gabe had been hitting his mom until at the very end, but he had known Gabe was a terrible person earlier than that.
It had to have been the summer, because Percy was home from school, and he looked to be maybe 9 or 10. Percy was himself, only not in control of his dream body, and he could do nothing but force the dream to play out as it had done in reality.
They were in his old apartment and the stench of it almost made him gag, and then he quickly became nose blind, just like he had in real life. His mom was home from work but still dressed in her old candy shop uniform. She was younger here, but somehow, she had more worry lines and wrinkles. She looked exhausted. She was serving Gabe and his poker buddies beer and various dips, and it wasn’t an unfamiliar scene, but it still made Percy uneasy.
His stomach twisted. He was hiding behind the corner, peeking out from behind the wall. He should be in bed, why wasn’t he in bed? A nightmare, maybe? He wanted his mom, but his mom was busy with his stepfather.
Sally leaned down to grab something, and like it was a natural occurrence, Gabe leaned over to smack her ass. All his poker buddies started catcalling and whistling, and Gabe made a crude remark that Percy hadn’t understood at that age and his mom-
His mom, his poor mom, just stood up and smiled gracefully, and kept serving them their beer and seven layer bean dip.
The memory ended and Percy woke up at once, like some invisible force was shaking him. He didn’t wake up gasping or screaming or anything like that. It hadn’t been a nightmare, but it was still a bad dream, and he stared up at his ceiling and told himself Smelly Gabe was long gone and they were way past that now.
Percy wasn’t sure how long he stared up at his ceiling, listening to the sounds of the city and telling himself he was fine, that everything was fine.
Gabe had been a monster, Percy’s first monster. But he was gone. Dead. Never to bother them again. It was an odd memory for his brain to pull up, and he was frustrated at himself for doing so. He would rather dream of Kronos or Tartarus. Hell, give him the weird baby bump dream again.
Why his brain decided to torture himself with something like this, he didn’t know and he was so annoyed and angry. He wasn’t sure how long he just layed in bed and stared up at his ceiling, but he knew it was long enough for the sunlight to break through his window.
Oddly, that made him think of Apollo and who was pulling the sun up if he was now a mortal and then he thought he didn’t actually care enough to find out.
Percy got up to take a shower. The water cascaded over him, but it didn't bring him the full relief he thought it would, like it couldn’t wash away the memories. His one saving grace was at least he didn’t have to go to camp anymore, though that was a small consolation prize. It’s always just one thing after the other.
Paul and his mom were up in the kitchen by the time he finally got out of the shower and got dressed. They were both standing at the counter, a glass mixing bowl in front of them. From the ingredients laid out, Percy thought it might have been pancakes, which made him frown, but it wasn’t like he could admit he didn’t want pancakes because he just had them with Annabeth earlier this week.
“Sleep okay, baby?” Sally asked, turning briefly to look at him.
Something flashed in her eyes but it was gone by the time Percy pulled out the kitchen table chair and sat down. “Sure. What about you?”
“Okay,” Sally answered easily, turning back to add the flour into the mixture. Gods, Percy really didn’t want pancakes again. How was he going to get out of this one?
“I had the weirdest dream,” Paul said in a cheery voice. He handed Sally the eggs, resting his hip against the counter. “I dreamt I was a bird funny enough, and I had to go to work as a bird, and nothing else had changed but all my students kept calling me Birdman!”
As someone who had spent some time as a bird, Percy didn’t find that nearly as entertaining as Paul did, but it was less horrifying than his own dream.
“I read somewhere that dreaming about birds means you’re in perfect harmony with yourself,” his mom stated fondly. “Paul, can you hand me the blue food dye?”
Paul rummaged around in the cabinets before scratching his head. “Huh. That’s weird. I swear we still had half a bottle but I can’t find it anywhere.”
Ah. So that was what they forgot to replace. Percy and Annabeth had used the last of food dye and Percy had made a mental note to grab more, and then Annabeth had wrapped her arms around him, and Percy had slipped a hand down her pants and-
Oops.
“Must be your pregnancy brain,” his mom joked, not thinking anything of it, and Percy had to hide his smile.
“Must be,” Paul said with a laugh.
It all happened so fast, too fast for Percy to even process. It was stupid. It was so fucking stupid. Paul was reaching for the broom, because there was flour and glass on the floor. Percy knew this. He understood this.
Sally was mixing together the batter in the glass mixing bowl, and she reached for something, another ingredient possibly, Percy didn’t know what exactly. Her baby bump got in the way, knocking over the bag of flour, and in Sally’s rush to grab it before flour spilled over everything, her arm failed out and the mixing bowl came crashing down.
Glass splattered all over the floor and the contents of the bowl had exploded, leaving flour in her hair, over the counter, on her apron, and on the floor with the shattered glass. The sound made Percy gasp, a cold shock running through him, his ears ringing.
“Don’t move!” Paul yelled. None of them were wearing shoes except for him. He was wearing the slippers Percy had gotten for him the previous Father’s Day. He had gotten Poseidon a similar pair, which he had rubbed in Triton’s face, because Triton hadn’t gotten Poseidon anything for Father’s Day, which was the only reason Percy got Poseidon something in the first palace.
Oddly, this was what Percy was thinking of, as he sat at the kitchen table, frozen in disbelief and fear and something else he couldn’t describe.
Paul turned to Sally, and Percy felt his heart sink to his stomach, and Paul raised his hand-
Somehow, Percy got to his feet, so fast that the kitchen chair had clattered to the floor in another loud crashing sound. He didn’t think he processed that though, just like he was’t processing the fact Paul was reaching for the broomstick that was leaning against the wall, on the other side of his mom.
The next thing Percy knew, Paul was hunched over, cradling his face in his hands, and his mom was shouting.
It was his mom saying his name that broke him out of whatever he was under. She had to say it a few times, because Percy’s ears were still ringing and his brain was lagging behind, not able to comprehend anything that was happening.
“Percy,” Sally managed to say again, this time louder but just as horrified as before. Her eyes were filled with tears, looking from her son back to her husband in disbelief.
“Oh gods,” Percy muttered, swallowing thickly.
Paul’s breathing was ragged, still hunched over in pain. Percy caught the sight of his cheekbone, red and swollen and already angrily jutting out of his face at an unnatural angle.
Percy leaned over and promptly vomited all over the kitchen floor.
In the books, they would describe something like this as “everything passed in a blur” but truthfully it wasn't anything like that, at least not for Percy. No, he was all too aware of the vomit and glass on the floor. All too aware of the way his stomach was cramping and the way he kept apologizing over and over, his voice getting higher and more desperate each time.
He was extremely too aware of the way his mom wouldn’t stop crying and poor Paul-
The ER was crowded, as it always was, and Paul was towards the bottom of the totem pole, which meant they weren’t seen for hours. Percy felt guilty about that too.
By the time Paul was seen, his cheek had finally started to bruise into an ugly purple color. They then had to wait even longer for the X-Ray, and then even longer than that for the X-Ray results. The only good news was that Percy had missed his eye by a fraction of an inch, but Paul’s cheekbone was definitely fractured and had to be reset. It looked painful.
They had left their apartment in the morning and returned hours later long past nightfall. Paul received a prescription for a narcotic pain medication, but wouldn’t be able to pick them up until the next morning.
Percy was ready to tell the ER doctors everything, baring his soul for the world to see, because he would never, never expect Paul to lie for him.
To his surprise, Paul had told the ER doctors he was playing baseball with his stepson and Percy had accidentally swung the ball at his face. It wasn’t a very believable story if you asked Percy. It was winter and every baseball field was filled with snow, but if anyone didn't buy it, they must not have cared enough to ask.
To say everyone was exhausted was an understatement. It was the kind of exhaustion that sunk into their bones and weighed them down, the kind that weighed on your mind and made you want to sleep for hours. Percy felt like he could sleep for hours, or maybe he could sleep for the rest of his life. He thought he’d be okay with that.
They made it all of maybe five steps into their apartment before Percy was already opening his mouth to apologize again.
“Enough,” Sally told him, effectively cutting him off. She shook her head, holding up her hand, and shrugged out of her coat. “Baby, please.”
“I already forgave you the first time, Perce,” Paul said, not unkindly.
Because of course he had. Paul was a nice guy who was nothing like Gabe. He never would have hurt his mom or Percy, and of course he forgave Percy for punching him, even though Percy didn’t deserve his forgiveness or his kindness.
It made him all the more frustrating and he wanted to run again, but running last time hadn’t solved his problems, and it wouldn’t solve it now.
“Oh, baby,” Sally whispered. She sat down onto the couch, with a little help from Paul, who sat down next to her.
Percy’s knees suddenly buckled, threatening to give out from underneath him, and he sank into the recliner, putting his head between his legs. He tried to breathe, just to get some air in his lungs, but even that was hard to do. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”
“You can’t keep going on like this, baby.” His mom reached for him but he curled away from her, shaking his head. She hesitated. “We can’t go on like this.”
“I know,” Percy repeated. “I know, I know, I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Paul-”
“Talk to me,” Sally begged, leaning forward to angle herself closer to him. “Baby, talk to me. You never talk about anything. I can’t even start to comprehend what you went through, but talk to me. Please, Percy. I am begging you.”
Percy just shook his head and slumped back. What could he even possibly say? “I thought Paul was going to hit you, which is stupid because I know he wouldn’t ever do that. But he raised his hand fast, and you had dropped the mixing bowl, and I guess something in my brain got activated. I’m sorry.”
There was so much more he wanted to say, but he didn’t know what he would even begin or even how. How could even begin to explain something he didn’t understand?
Paul tried catching his eye, but Percy found he could only look at Paul’s bruised face for so long before he had to look away. He was scared he’d throw up again if he looked at it too long.
“This is my fault,” Sally whispered and Percy’s head snapped up to look at her. “This is because of Gabe, isn’t it?”
“Mom, no, this isn’t your fault.”
How she could even blame herself was mind boggling to him. No, no it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his, and that just made him even more miserable. He had no one to blame but himself and he felt dizzy.
Her mentioning Gabe wasn’t helping him. His stomach was cramping and he really hoped he didn’t puke again. His palms were already sweaty, and he kept rubbing them over his knees which didn’t do anything.
With his mom and Paul looking at him like that, he felt suffocated. He knew that wasn’t fair to them, and he owed them an explanation, but that didn’t make it any easier. Gabe was a sore wound he thought had closed years ago, and realizing it was open and raw made him want to push it away and pretend like it wasn’t there.
“Baby-”
“It’s late,” Percy said, getting to his feet. His heart was beating so fast he was worried it would fall out of his chest and his palms wouldn’t stop sweating. “I’m going to go to bed.”
Neither one of them fought him on this and he unsteadily made his way to his bedroom, praying that dizzy feeling disappeared. He was so angry and frustrated at himself. He never felt so useless.
He didn’t even bother trying to sleep. For one, he was too scared what his brain would conjure up, because he had a feeling it wouldn’t be anything goofy after the day he had. Two, he wasn’t tired. His body was too alive with adrenaline, that fight or flight response that had his entire body shaking and fighting itself.
There really was no point in even trying and so he opened his curtains and looked out his window the entire night. The moonlight shone into his room and not for the first time, he couldn’t help but wonder if Artemis missed her brother.
Sometime in the morning, there was a knock on his door. Percy pulled his sweatshirt over his head and got out of bed. A quick glance at his alarm clock showed it was a little past 4 in the morning, which meant his mom was most likely sleeping, and when he opened the door, he wasn’t surprised to find it was Paul standing there.
Paul looked nervous, which made Percy feel bad. His own stepfather couldn’t even be alone with him in a room without being worried he’d be decked. Paul rubbed the back of his neck and wouldn’t make eye contact. “Hi, Percy.”
“Hey,” Percy said casually, trying to avoid looking suspicious. Whatever this was, he had a feeling he wouldn’t like it. He wasn’t sure how he was going to tell Paul that he didn’t want to talk about anything, which wasn’t fair to Paul, but Percy just did not have the energy. It had been a long weekend.
“Can we talk?” Paul asked and Percy looked at his alarm clock again. “I know it’s early,” Paul added, finally making eye contact with Percy before quickly looking away. “It won’t be long.”
Percy shrugged and allowed Paul to step into his room. “Sure, I guess. Everything okay?”
Paul shut the door behind him and stood awkwardly in front of Percy. He was making Percy nervous. Either they were about to have a very uncomfortable conversation, or Percy did something embarrassing, like leaving his dirty underwear in the laundry room again, or maybe Paul saw Percy drink out of the milk carton (he knew it was a gross habit, Annabeth and his mom already got into him about it).
“This is awkward,” Paul stated and Percy tilted his head to the side. Percy personally wouldn’t say this was awkward, just uncomfortable. “Listen, Percy.” He took a breath, steeling himself. “When you google something, you really need to clear the internet history, yeah?”
Percy was confused for all of five seconds, trying to connect his internet history with punching Paul, before his stomach swooped and his face fell before he felt it heating up in flames.
Oh my gods, he thought.
The other night, after he had gotten back from Annabeth’s dorm, Percy had borrowed his stepfather’s laptop. It wasn’t something he did often (the laptop, not the shower.) Technology use still made him uneasy. It was better now that he was older and didn’t smell as pungent, but he still avoided technology if he could. He even hand wrote his papers and projects, and then gave them to his mom or Paul to type up for him.
But he knew how to use technology, contrary to popular belief. He just never could justify it outside of school work, but well here’s the thing. Annabeth had said she did her own research, right? She had even watched porn. If she could do that, then he could do some googling.
Which he had. He didn’t know what exactly to type, so he had typed Dick went soft during sex and the first few results he got were all for supplements pertaining to erectile dysfunction. Did he have erectile dysfunction? He was only 18, and he never had a problem before.
He had kept scrolling. He was on edge as he did so, half worried about monsters and partly because he was seeing a lot of results that kept saying it could happen due to alcohol. Percy didn’t drink. Medication. He wasn’t on any medication unless you counted the brain food Annabeth sometimes gave him. Medical condition? No, he didn’t have anything like that. Performance anxiety?
Did he have performance anxiety? He had been nervous as hell the first few times, but he had gotten Annabeth off a couple times now. It wasn’t like he thought she would judge his performance or anything like that. Besides, Annabeth had been a virgin as well: it wasn’t like she had anything to compare it to, which had helped his nerves initially.
And anyway, Annabeth was pretty vocal. She let him know if he was making her feel good or if something felt wrong. He had the normal amount of nerves any guy would have the first few times, but no, it wasn’t performance anxiety.
Percy had retyped feeling guilty over initiating sex and kept scrolling, hoping for different results, but all the results were mostly just guys scared of rejection, which made them scared to initiate, and Percy wasn’t scared of rejection. Annabeth had asked him to initiate more, so he wasn’t sure why he had an issue initiating, but it clearly affected his ability to stay hard.
The googling had gotten him nowhere and with a sigh, Percy closed the laptop and returned it to Paul. He hadn’t even thought about clearing his internet history, because he didn’t know that was a thing in the first place. All he ever had used the internet before previously was for school work. He didn't know it kept history: a history that clearly, Paul has now seen.
Hades, just take his soul now. Forget anything he had ever been through before: this was the worst moment of his life. This had to have been some kind of cosmic justice.
“Um,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say, and he suddenly found it very hard to look at his stepfather, and not because he had punched him the day before.
Paul, for his part, looked just as embarrassed. “I don’t make a habit of snooping, you know, but you had closed a tab I had previously kept open, and I needed to go into the history so I could reopen it.”
“Um,” Percy repeated dumbly, his tongue suddenly too thick in his mouth. His stepfather now knew way too much about him, and he didn’t think he’d ever look Paul in the face again-which he already struggled to do, because looking at his fractured cheek bone made him feel ill.
“I thought about not bringing it up,” Paul admitted and Percy thought about jumping out his window, “but then you punched me and well, I can’t help but think your issues are related.”
Normally, Percy thought Paul was a pretty cool guy, if not a little dorky. That didn’t mean he was ready to discuss his sex life with him. In fact, he hadn’t wanted either of his parents to know he had a sex life to begin with. It was embarrassing, especially his problem, and yesterday had made everything worse.
“I know it’s none of my business,” Paul continued, eyes somewhere above Percy’s head. “But from what I’m seeing, maybe you didn’t quite get the search results you were looking for?”
It was comical, how nervous and red Paul was, standing there in his own pajamas, refusing to look Percy in the eye. Percy felt just as embarrassed. This was probably the worst thing that had ever happened to him, and again, Percy had just punched Paul yesterday.
But. Paul was right. He hadn’t gotten the search results he had been looking for, That was the frustrating thing about adding sex to their relationship. As much as he loved having sex with her, Percy didn’t know how to talk about some things, and if he was being honest, neither did Annabeth. He hadn’t known what to do in that situation, and even now, he still didn’t know what to do.
“I don’t see how it’s related,” Percy said. He hated how defeated his voice sounded even to himself. He scratched behind his ear, wishing he had a time machine to turn back this entire weekend.
Paul nodded, choosing his next words carefully. “You punched me because you thought I was going to hurt your mom in a way you have seen her hurt before.” Paul waited for Percy to nod cautiously before continuing. “I’m thinking your sex problem-”
“Gods, Paul, please do not call it that-“
“-is because initiating sex makes you feel like you’re being disrespectful,” Paul went on, as if Percy hadn’t interrupted. He looked at Percy expectantly. “Like maybe how Gabe disrespected your mom in the past? Objectified her, possibly?”
It hadn’t been something Percy considered, but it made sense when he thought about it. Percy had always waited for Annabeth to make a move. Sometimes he got a little handsy, but that was always after Annabeth had already made it clear she wanted to have sex. Even now, he struggled to call her hot or to use vulgar words like “horny”, even though he didn’t mind being vulgar if Annabeth started it.
They joked he was a gentleman, that he was Sally Jackson’s son, but now he couldn’t help but think that didn’t even scratch the surface of it all. There was probably so much more to it than that, something Percy hadn’t even realized on a subconscious level. It was always there though, and that was obvious when he looked back at it.
“Right,” Paul said when Percy didn’t say anything. “Right. Listen, it’s an uncomfortable conversation, and we don’t have to talk more about it. But look, Percy, that issue you had? It can happen for a variety of different reasons, and from the looks of it, it may be a mental thing for you. Maybe explore why that is.” Paul tried going for an easy smile, but it came off more as a nervous grimace, especially with his fractured and bruised cheekbone.
Percy cleared his throat. “Okay. Thank you Paul,” He meant it. Yeah, he was embarrassed, and yes, he still wished for the ground to open and swallow him up whole, but this was more insightful than anything he had seen on the internet.
And again, he had punched Paul, so maybe this was a justified punishment.
Paul clapped him on the back, looking just as relieved as Percy felt that the conversation was over. “No problem, Percy. I know it’s embarrassing but I’m glad we could talk.” Paul thought for a second. “Okay. One last thing and I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you this but I feel like I have to say it anyway. Sex is a big step in a relationship. I hope you don’t take it lightly. I trust you two are being safe, but if you’re mature enough to have sex, you need to be mature enough to be able to discuss these kinds of things, you know? Sometimes mishaps do happen and you have to learn how to roll with it.”
It was actually good advice, not that it made it any easier to hear, so Percy just nodded and hoped Paul never, ever brought this up again.
He suddenly thought of something and he caught Paul by the arm before he could open the door. “Um, Paul?” Percy swallowed nervously, eyes flickering around his room. “I know I’m in no place to be asking you for favors right now but you aren’t going to tell my mom, right?”
Paul inhaled sharply before exhaling slowly, gathering his thoughts. “You know, normally I would never even suggest keeping secrets from your mother.” Percy cringed. Paul put his hand up. “However. Man to man? Yeah, I think we can keep this between us. Just remember to clear your internet history, okay?”
“Okay,” Percy mumbled and tried not to slam the door behind Paul.
He wasn’t ready to talk about Gabe. He wasn’t ready to talk about his mom. He wasn’t ready to get into why he had punched Paul. He wasn’t ready to talk about what it was like growing up. But . . . maybe he was ready to talk with Annabeth.