PERCY'S JOURNEY TO THE TOP OF THE WORLD | PERCY JACKSON X READER

Chapter Twenty One

Percy's pretty sure that he'll hate himself for it later, but he lies flat on his back and uses one arm as a makeshift pillow. His skin is going to itch from the grass and his hair's going to have questionable signs of nature in it, but it's worth it to get to close his eyes and hear Luke play—one of the few things that can quiet Percy's constantly whirring mind entirely.

He can hear conversations going on, the indistinguishable chatter with laughs and outraged cries here and there, but it's just as much music to his ears as Luke's playing is. Percy hums along to the song once he catches on at the chorus, and it isn't until a hand rests over his arm that Percy remembers Y/N's beside him at all.

"You look peaceful," she comments, and Percy kind of wants to point out that she just interrupted said peace, but he supposes she's worth it. She squeezes his arm, the one that's half-pinned beneath his head and now half-pinned beneath her hand. For whatever reason, Percy's involuntary reaction is to flex.

Now, years and years from now, Percy's sure he'll be sitting around in his living room with his mother by his side and a few kids running around wreaking havoc while his wife tries to tame them, and he'll be able to laugh about this moment. But for now, Percy gives an internal, minute-long groan that hopefully expresses to his subconscious how much of a piece of shit it is.

"Did you just—?"

"I wasn't—"

Y/N laughs before he can even finish his explanation, but she doesn't move her hand either. He can't tell if he's winning or losing, here. "You just flexed. Didn't you?"

"It was a reflex," he says meekly.

"Was it now?" Y/N sends him a look, and Percy can't think of any interpretation other than, plainly, I'm flirting with you.

Which, honestly, couldn't Y/N have picked a time where he'd just done something really cool? Like successfully performing a skateboard trick of high difficulty, or winning some medal at a swim competition. That would have been a little easier to swallow, and he doubts he would be blushing half as much as he is now. Maybe if he closes his eyes, it'll just go away.

"Don't be embarrassed," Y/N says, and she runs her hand up his arm until she's gripping his elbow. Percy's pretty sure his facial expression reads pain pain deep and terrible pain. "It was a nice reflex, if that helps."

"It doesn't," Percy says, or, rather, squeaks. He keeps his eyes shut tightly, tries to convince his blood vessels in his face that they really don't have to do that whole dilating thing he learned about last year in health. They could just, like, not respond to Y/N's touch at all, since that would make Percy's like a good fifty per cent easier.

Instead of leaving Percy alone and letting him wallow in his shame that'll probably make him blush for decades to come, Y/N lies down beside him. Percy could cry. "I didn't mean to embarrass you; it was just funny."