The second the cabin door closed behind them, Percy spun her around and lifted her up, pinning her against the nearest wall. With a yelp, Annabeth revealed the giddiness she had been feeling as they walked to her cabin after yet another day of planning and fighting monsters on deck. Instinctively, she secured her legs behind Percy's back and held onto his neck.
"Percy!" she complained, but her laughter betrayed her complete lack of annoyance.
He pressed against her and kissed her deeply. Annabeth loved the feeling of Percy's hungry mouth devouring hers. They broke apart and Percy set her down, his hands still on the back of her jeans.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly, smiling that dorky smile she loved so much. "Couldn't resist. I've been holding it in all day." He walked towards the bed and plopped down, kicking off his shoes.
That morning, after they'd woken up, they had had a quick conversation, whereupon a few rules had been stipulated.
Rule number one, no telling. This had been Annabeth's suggestion, even though she knew Percy he was barely the gossiping type. No, she was the weakest link in this equation, and she had been especially concerned about keeping things from Piper, with whom she had started to grow close, and she feared her best friend, daughter of Aphrodite or not, wouldn't completely understand Annabeth's need for intimacy.
How could anyone? When the devil cobwebs of Arachne had pulled her into that pit – that awful pit, she had completely given up hope. Her life had flashed before her eyes, when her legs had gone over, she silently kissed her dream of living a life with Percy goodbye. The utter desolation of dying so young and the sheer panic she experienced, though overpowering, had been quickly extinguished the second Percy had let go of the edge of the pit, when they both tumbled together into Tartarus.
At least we will die together, she had thought, and the selfishness of that simple yet comforting idea haunted her still.
And then, then there had been Tartarus itself. The torment and the pain and the misery of the experience clawed at her dreams, like a recurring nightmare that would never, ever leave her, and she knew it. She could now brag about having first-hand experience with PTSD. And yet Percy had been there all along. He had been there with his sword (and pen), his strength, his sense of humor – he had been completely and utterly by her side.
How could she not want him, need him, desire him, wish to be one with him?
No, Piper wouldn't understand her urgency. She would probably just worry, she would advise her as best she could, remind her of their mostly incomplete task ahead, and suggest they slept in their own cabins, at least for the time being. She might become a less violent, yet much more persuasive chaperone than Coach Hedge had ever been. Rule number one, no telling.
Rule number two, no unnecessary PDAs. This rule came hand-in-hand with the first rule. Percy had suggested a few chaste kisses wouldn't hurt, they had kissed in public before, and Annabeth had relented. She wouldn't have been able to go a day without kissing Percy, and she knew from experience that fighting monsters, however secondary, required a bit of motivation. Kisses were good motivation. However, they had both come to the conclusion that French kissing would have been a bit of a stretch – the last thing they needed was to have that conversation with the younger members of their posse, Frank and Hazel. Hazel was thirteen years old, way too young to be introduced into the world of French kissing, however delicious it was. And there was also Leo, who Annabeth pinned as a bit of a pervert in the making, yeah, nope, no way she was going to have that conversation with him. Rule number two, no unnecessary PDAs.
