Chapter Text
“Admit it, Annabeth. You’re excited to see him,” Piper teased, her tone light but probing, like she already knew the answer.
Annabeth whipped her head toward her so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. “Hell no,” she snapped, too quickly to be convincing. She turned back to the Roman camp below, pretending to study it intently. “I’m admiring their architecture from afar.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie. The buildings of New Rome were captivating, a seamless blend of practicality and grandeur. Columns with delicate carvings spiraled up toward the sky, supporting terraces overrun with lush greenery. The buildings glowed with the warmth of sunlit stone, their symmetry echoing a kind of timeless elegance Annabeth couldn’t help but admire. A large domed temple caught her eye, its golden roof gleaming like a beacon. If she had the time, she’d sketch every line, every shadow.
But she didn’t have the time. And she wasn’t really focused on the architecture.
Her hands gripped the railing of the Argo II so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her mind was spinning, and it wasn’t because of the descent they were about to make. Percy was down there, somewhere. Just the thought of him—his messy black hair, his sea-green eyes that always seemed to hold a glint of mischief—made her chest tighten. It wasn’t excitement she felt; it was something closer to fear.
What if he had changed? What if he looked at her with cold indifference, like the months apart had erased everything they’d shared? Worse, what if he had moved on?
That last thought hit her like a punch to the gut. She’d heard stories about New Rome, the bonds formed here, the sense of community. What if Percy had found someone else? A Roman girl, one who shared his battles and understood his new world in a way Annabeth couldn’t? The idea of him holding someone else's hand, flashing that crooked grin at someone else, sent a sharp pang through her chest. She shook her head, forcing the thought away.
"Alright, guys! I’m dropping the ladder now," Leo’s voice crackled through the comms, dragging her back to the present. "Try not to break your necks on the way down."
Annabeth exhaled, forcing her hands to relax. She was the first to descend, each step down the rope ladder steady but deliberate, as if she could control her emotions through sheer willpower. The closer she got to the ground, the heavier her heart felt.
Her boots hit the cobblestones with a soft thud. She didn’t look around right away, her breathing measured as she focused on her surroundings. The streets of New Rome were alive with activity, demigods in gleaming armor bustling between buildings, laughter and voices floating through the air. It was perfect—too perfect, almost.
Jason landed next, holding Piper effortlessly as he descended. Annabeth rolled her eyes at the display, but her heart wasn’t in it. Her focus shifted as her eyes caught movement ahead.
A tall girl with a dark braid draped over one shoulder stood at the edge of the plaza. Her bronze armor gleamed in the sunlight, and her expression was calm but guarded. The subtle tension in her shoulders, the slight clench of her jaw when her gaze flickered to Jason and Piper, gave her away. Annabeth knew instinctively who this was.
“Reyna,” Annabeth said, stepping forward. Her voice was steady, her hand extended.
Reyna took it firmly, her dark eyes meeting Annabeth’s without hesitation. “Annabeth Chase,” Reyna said, her tone measured but respectful. “Welcome to New Rome.”
Annabeth opened her mouth to respond, but a voice she hadn’t heard in months cut through the air like lightning.
“Annabeth.”
Her breath caught. Slowly, she turned, her heart pounding so hard she was sure everyone around her could hear it.
And there he was. Percy Jackson.
He stood a few paces away, the same and yet completely different. His black hair was tousled as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and his sea-green eyes sparkled with something familiar and yet deeper, older. His posture was more confident, his shoulders broader, his stance steady in a way that hadn’t been there before. But his grin—the boyish, lopsided grin that always managed to disarm her—was exactly the same.
“Percy,” she whispered.
His smile widened, and before she could think, before she could question herself, Annabeth closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. The moment they collided, everything else faded—the bustling camp, the looming tension, even the fear that had gnawed at her for months.
“Hey, Wise Girl,” Percy murmured, his voice low and warm against her ear.
She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands still gripping his shoulders as if letting go might make him disappear. “Hey, Seaweed Brain,” she replied, her voice softer than she intended.
For a moment, it was just them. But then the noise of the world came rushing back in: Piper’s giggle, Jason clearing his throat, and Reyna’s voice, sharp and unreadable, cutting through the haze.
Annabeth glanced over Percy’s shoulder and caught Reyna’s expression—neutral, almost imperceptibly so. Was that a flicker of something else in her eyes? Annabeth wasn’t sure. But the thought lingered.
For now, though, she let it slide. Percy was here. He was real. And for the first time in months, she felt like she could breathe again.
**
“Did you miss me, Beth?” Percy’s voice was low, teasing, like the rolling waves of the sea on a quiet shore. His breath was warm against her neck as he whispered the question, and Annabeth gasped, her body arching into his as he delivered another sharp thrust. Her nails scraped along his shoulders, desperate to find an anchor in him, as if letting go would send her spiraling into some endless abyss.
“Yes,” she sighed, the word tumbling out before she could stop it, her voice trembling with pleasure and the ache of something far deeper. Was this real? Was he real?
She had tried—gods, how she had tried—to keep her distance. She’d gone through the motions, attending the day’s meetings and gatherings like a general should. They exchanged polite smiles over goblets of nectar and managed stiff small talk under the scrutinizing eyes of others. But Percy Jackson wasn’t someone you could hold at arm’s length—not when he was just there. Breathing. Existing. His presence filled every room, every moment, every thought. And her resolve? It shattered like fragile glass every time she let herself feel the pull of him.
Tonight, after the formal dinner, she had fled to the water’s edge, hoping to escape the storm raging inside her. She stood on the embankment, the soft glow of New Rome’s lanterns reflecting on the rippling surface, her mind lost in a tangle of spiraling thoughts.
“What are you doing out here?” Percy’s voice startled her, cutting through the quiet night like a blade.
Annabeth spun around, her heart leaping into her throat. “Shit, you scared me,” she said, clutching her chest as though she could steady the pounding there.
“Didn’t mean to.” Percy grinned, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his posture easy—too easy. The kind of ease that only made her guard shoot up higher.
“I got bored,” she muttered after a moment, her voice faltering slightly as she turned back to the water. The lump in her throat grew heavier.
He stepped closer, his boots crunching softly against the gravel. “You miss me when I was gone?” he asked lightly, though there was a sharpness in his sea-green eyes as they searched her face.
“You wish, Jackson,” she shot back, her tone clipped and dry, even as her chest tightened like a vice. “Most peaceful six months of my life.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and low. “Figured.”
Her gaze flickered to him, and for the briefest moment, she allowed herself to see him. His jawline looked sharper, his hair slightly longer and tousled in a way that seemed effortlessly perfect. There was something in his posture now—a kind of quiet confidence that hadn’t been there before. He looked older, stronger, more... regal. Like the war had shaped him into something raw and unyielding.
And yet, it was him. Percy. The same boy she’d known since she was twelve, standing there with the same boyish grin that made her heart ache. Six months without him had felt like an eternity, and now that he was here, so close she could feel the heat of him, it was suffocating.
“I should go,” she said abruptly, stepping back. The longer she stayed, the harder it became to keep herself from unraveling completely.
“I’ll walk you,” Percy offered, his hands still buried in his pockets, his shoulders deceptively casual.
Annabeth hesitated, biting her lip before nodding.
They walked in silence for the most part, the cool night air pressing against them. The lanterns cast flickering golden light across the cobblestone paths, and the faint hum of distant conversation drifted through the air. Percy glanced at her occasionally, his expression unreadable, as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
They were silent except for Annabeth's giggle when he tripped over a rock, him telling her to shut up in return.
They reached her cabin, and Annabeth hesitated at the door, turning to face him. “Well... goodnight, I guess,” she said softly, the words barely louder than the whispering breeze.
“Yeah,” Percy replied, his voice quieter now. But he didn’t move.
“Percy, I’m tired,” Annabeth said, the words tumbling out in a rush.
“I know,” he said, his gaze steady on hers.
“I should sleep,” she murmured, though her feet stayed rooted to the spot.
“You should,” Percy agreed, but neither of them moved.
And suddenly they were kissing—his hands were threading into her hair, and her fingers clutched at his shirt as if letting go would shatter her. He smelled like the sea, mixed with the warmth of sandalwood and the electric charge of a summer storm. His touch was everywhere, overwhelming and grounding all at once, like the tides pulling her under and anchoring her in place.
She missed him—missed this—so much it physically hurt.
The world around them had blurred into nothing but sensation. Annabeth could barely keep track of time, the seconds slipping away, merging into an endless stream of heated moments. Percy’s hands were everywhere—gripping her hips, pulling her closer, each movement deliberate, powerful. His body was slick with sweat, pressing into hers, as if he couldn't get enough.
"Did you miss me, Annabeth?" He asked again, his voice strained, low, teasing, as he drove into her again, the sound of his body against hers filling the room. His words were thick with the weight of desire, but there was something almost smug in the way he said it, as if he already knew the answer.
Annabeth gasped, feeling him hit deeper. She couldn’t even catch her breath before the next thrust came, his pace fast and relentless. “Yes,” she panted, her voice a mixture of frustration and pleasure. She didn’t want to admit how much she had missed him—how much she still wanted him—but there was no hiding it now. Her fingers curled into the sheets as her body reacted to him, arching against his every move.
Percy’s breath was heavy, hot against her skin as he shifted his weight to lean over her. His lips ghosted along her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin beneath her ear. He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling as she tried to keep up with the intensity. He smiled, his lips curling into something darker, more primal.
"Fuck, I can feel myself moving inside you," Percy groaned, his hand sliding down her body to rest over her lower stomach. The pressure of his palm against her made everything more intense, more real. He moved her hand to feel it, his fingers gripping hers tightly, forcing her to touch where their bodies met.
Annabeth’s breath hitched as she felt him—his hard length throbbing inside her, his thrusts taking on a desperate rhythm. She could feel everything—the way he filled her, stretching her, moving in deep, relentless strokes. She moaned, her body tightening even further in response to him, the world around her narrowing to just the two of them. It was too much, but it was never enough.
"Can you feel it, Beth?" Percy asked, his voice almost strangled with need, his body pushing harder against hers. "Can you feel me fucking you like this?" His words were filthy, rough—everything she didn’t want to admit she needed.
Annabeth’s breath caught in her throat, the words slipping out of her mouth without thinking. "Yes," she gasped, her hips bucking up to meet his, her body unable to resist the pull, the ache for more. "Yes, I can feel it."
Percy’s hands were everywhere—on her hips, on her waist, gripping the back of her thighs as he shoved deeper into her. His rhythm never faltered, his body moving with relentless force, taking her, fucking her with a rawness that had her gasping, her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.
“Fuck, Annabeth,” he groaned, his voice deep and hoarse. “You’re so tight... so fucking perfect.”
Her nails dug into his shoulders, the pressure building inside her again, like a spring coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust. She couldn’t stop it—couldn’t stop her body from responding, couldn’t stop herself from needing him, wanting him in a way she’d forgotten was even possible.
She had tried so hard to stay away from him, to keep her distance, to pretend she wasn’t aching for him. But when he was here—just standing in front of her, looking at her like he couldn’t wait any longer—it all came crashing down. She’d been fooling herself for months, telling herself she could keep it together, but now it was too late. She needed him.
Percy’s pace quickened, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room. Annabeth could feel the way her body responded to him, every nerve alight with the sensation of him inside her, his hands on her, his lips claiming hers in hungry, messy kisses.
"One more, Anna," Percy croaked, his voice breaking, desperate. "Can you handle one more?"
Annabeth didn’t even have time to respond, her body already reacting to his words. She could feel it building—faster, harder this time. She could feel her walls tightening around him, could feel that familiar pressure building in her core, ready to snap.
“Yeah percy, keep going baby” she moaned, the word barely escaping her lips, her chest heaving as she met his thrusts, her body finally surrendering to the inevitable.
With a final, deep thrust, Percy’s breath hitched, and Annabeth was thrown into the waves of pleasure. Her body shuddered, the orgasm crashing through her like a tidal wave, leaving her trembling in his arms, barely able to hold onto him as everything went white.
Percy wasn’t far behind. He groaned, his hands gripping her tighter, his pace faltering as he finally reached his own release. He collapsed against her, breathing heavily, his body still trembling from the intensity of it all.
For a moment, everything was still. They were both gasping for air, their bodies intertwined, the world outside fading into nothing. Annabeth's body still trembled with aftershocks, and she could feel him against her, the heat of his skin, the way his breath mingled with hers.
She should’ve said something. She should’ve pulled away, stopped herself from getting lost in it all. But as Percy’s lips brushed against her ear, his voice a low murmur, something shifted.
"Gods, I missed you," Percy whispered, his hand running down her side, tracing the curve of her waist. And for the first time in a long while, Annabeth felt the tightness in her chest loosen, just a little.
They fell asleep, bodies still tangled under the weight of the night, drifting in and out of consciousness. The room was dark, but the heat between them was undeniable, pulling them back together like magnets. Annabeth woke first, her skin still buzzing from the last few hours. She shifted, feeling the unmistakable pressure between her legs—a hunger she couldn't shake.
Her body called for him again, and she couldn’t ignore it. She turned toward him, reaching out for him in the dark. The softness of his skin, the heat of his body against hers—it was too much, and yet, never enough.
"I'm all out, Percy," she moaned, voice thick with exhaustion, but there was a hint of longing she couldn’t suppress. She didn’t want to seem weak, but her body betrayed her every time.
"I'm serious," she added, her hands pushing against his chest, but the moment she spoke, he pushed into her again, slow and deliberate. The feeling made her gasp, and her breath caught as she felt the pressure build again.
“You said that four rounds ago,” Percy groaned, the words dripping with a playful but demanding tone, but his body didn’t falter. He moved with purpose, never rushing, but always hitting that perfect spot, his thrusts calculated and relentless.
Annabeth’s hands shot up, grabbing the headboard, her nails digging into the wood as his rhythm took over. Each time he snapped into her, she felt the pulse of something deep within her, her body instinctively arching into his, craving more. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, so much so that she couldn’t even keep track of how many times it had happened—how many times her body had melted under him.
Her thoughts were a whirl of pleasure and need. She should have been embarrassed by the way she felt, the way she couldn’t stop wanting more, but she wasn’t. She was here, in this moment, with him. There was no room for doubt, no space for uncertainty.
"Fuck, Percy," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. Her body was shaking from the effort of keeping up with him, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn’t quite catch. Was it even possible to feel this much? To feel so... full?
“Do you feel it, Beth?” Percy rasped, his voice low and edged with something she couldn’t quite place. He reached down, pressing her hand to her stomach, where she could feel the movement of him deep inside her.
Annabeth’s breath hitched. The sensation was too much. Her entire world narrowed to just him, the steady rhythm of his body against hers. She could barely think. Could barely breathe.
"Can you feel it?" he asked again, his hands gripping her hips, pushing her into him with a sense of desperation that matched her own.
She was lost, drowning in the moment. Her body was on fire, her mind a blur. “Yes,” she gasped, barely able to keep her voice steady. "Yes, I can."
Percy groaned in response, his pace not slowing. It wasn’t fast, but it wasn’t gentle either. Every movement sent waves of pleasure crashing through her, building up again like a storm gathering strength. It was too much, and yet not enough. She wanted more.
"Kiss me," she begged, her voice pleading, raw. Her fingers found his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for the connection that only his lips could give her. He responded immediately, his kiss deep, soft but urgent. It was as if he was trying to reassure her that he was still there—that this moment, this connection, was real.
Her lips parted under his, her thoughts scattering, and for a moment, all that existed was him and her and the heat that swelled between them. There was no past, no future—just this. Just him.
"Annabeth," Percy muttered, pulling back slightly, his lips brushing against her neck. He sounded almost... possessive, the way he said her name. “No one fills you the way I do, right?”
Annabeth’s heart pounded, her breath ragged. She didn’t want to admit it—didn’t want to show him just how much she needed him, how much she craved this—but she couldn’t lie. Not now.
“No one ever,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Her body was humming with the truth of it, with the undeniable pull that only he seemed to know how to satisfy.
Percy’s lips curled into a small grin, his eyes dark with something that made her pulse quicken. “Am I the only one who does it properly?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, but there was an edge of sincerity in it.
Annabeth’s breath caught. She should have said something else, should have played it cool, but the truth was already out there. Her body was a mess, and her heart was too.
“Yes,” she breathed out, her fingers digging into his skin, “You’re the only one.”
His hands tightened around her, and she felt the final shift as he moved harder, faster, deeper. The moment stretched on, longer than it should have been, until she was completely undone, completely lost. There was nothing but him, nothing but the overwhelming, consuming feeling of being with him like this.
As their bodies finally slowed, both spent, Annabeth felt a strange sense of calm settle over her. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but they were tangled up in the sheets, bodies pressed together in a way that felt natural, perfect. She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to break the silence that had fallen between them.
Percy’s lips found her forehead, pressing a soft kiss there. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, and for once, Annabeth believed him.
Her fingers found his, intertwining, and she let herself fall back into the warmth of his touch, the weight of the moment, and the knowledge that this time, things were different. This time, they were both all in.