Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

During the war, Percy didn't think he'd get this. 

Peace.

He thought he wouldn't live through the war in his darkest moments, sitting on his narrow bunk hoping no submarines were nearby. 

He thought even if he did survive, his father would expect him to return to New York and settle down with his childhood friend, Annabeth. She probably expected it at this point too, if the stack of unopened letters from her stored amongst his personal belongings were any indication at all.

Instead, he survived. When he was discharged, he stayed in Britain. Initially working odd jobs for friends, doing the heavy lifting at charity events for Ms Levesque. It was loud, busy, and most importantly far away from his father and Annabeth and the neighbourhood that destroyed his mother and had decided what he'd be a lifetime ago. Eventually one day he spotted an advert in the paper as he walked from his tiny rooms in a boarding house to Ms Levesque's. Groundskeeper for a house in a little village in Devon near where his friend, Grover, had settled down.

-

Before boarding the train out of London, he caught sight of a beautiful blonde man, rushing to second class before being pointed towards first. He looked more like a model or a god torn from an ancient religion than a real person in a tweed jacket and long scarf.

"- oh yes, right, thank you," cut through the din. Deep and rich, it raised the hairs on the back of Percy’s neck.

Percy paused at the door for a moment before climbing onboard. Pushing away the thought of blond curls bouncing away from him.

The 3rd class carriage on the train was crammed, awkward and sweaty. He was sitting between a man who smelt like he'd rolled out of the nearest bar and straight onto the train and a woman holding a squealing child. 

The next train was small and more or less empty, leaving him in the middle of nowhere on a tiny platform. Percy was grateful when he heard a loud honk and spotted the beaten up car trundling along - it was cold for late February and he couldn't afford a taxi.

"Hey Grover," Percy called, shouldering his bags as he walked towards his old friend.

"Hey Perce, good journey?" Grover asked as he started to pull away. They both wince when he changed gear and the gearbox sounded like it's eating itself. "Still not very good at this," Grover said, blushing. 

Percy just smiled, tired. He was glad he'd been able to come down a day early for his interview with the housekeeper. It was quiet for a moment as Percy just watched the rolling fields stretch far into the horizon before Percy glanced back at his friend. He remembered when they were both stuck in the same boarding school, running a sweetshop from their dorm room. It felt so long ago. It was hard sometimes to remember they're the same people anymore. 

Grover was more confident, comfortable in his own skin. Getting a little thick around the waist from Juniper's cooking. Fingers dancing along the wheel but compared to the nervous boy worrying about Percy getting into trouble for fighting every bully that came either of their ways, he was so relaxed.

"How's Juniper?" Percy smiled.

"God, she's amazing. She's refusing to close the florist shop despite being six months," Grover beamed, looking proud despite his words. “It wouldn’t surprise me if I have to fight her on going straight back to work. I think she likes the shop more than me sometimes.”

Percy couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face.

Once Grover started telling Percy about the little life he’d carved out in the year since VE day he didn’t stop, not until they jolted to a stop in front of the shop. 

Underwood Florist in bright white capitals above the window front. Arrangements of flowers filled the window and through the window Percy spotted Juniper sitting on a stool behind the counter chattering away with a customer.

A silver eyed woman in trousers was leaning on the counter, she turned around and nodded to Percy and Grover as they entered.

“Ms Artemis,” Grover nodded.

“Mr Underwood,” Artemis responded with a nod, before extending her hand with a raised eyebrow at Percy.

“Percy Jackson,” he answered the unspoken question, trying not to wince as her grip tightened.

“Nice to meet you. Juniper mentioned a visitor, though I will warn you there isn't much for a tourist to see,” Artemis smiled but it was all sharp edges. Her eyes, colder than the stars, sent shivers up and down Percy's spine, feeling like prey pinned in place.

“Well I was actually hoping to stay for a while,” Percy said, taking his hand back.

“Oh?”

Percy hummed, nodding before turning to greet Juniper who had waddled out from behind the counter. “Lovely to see you as always Juniper,” Percy murmured.

Artemis looked at him curiously for a moment. “I should get going, I’m supposed to have dinner with my brother tonight. I’m sure I’ll see you all around.”

She disappeared before Percy could stumble over an appropriate goodbye. But before he had long to berate himself on his manners or lack thereof and how well that would go down in a small village Grover was flipping the open sign in the window to ‘closed’ and Juniper was leading him through into the back where the stairs leading to their flat was.

The living room was snug and warm despite the chill outside - Percy managed to suppress the wince at the number of dollies thrown over the tables. There were only two bedrooms, one for Juniper and Grover and the spare for Percy. One small bathroom and the smallest kitchen Percy had seen, even compared to the one in the New York apartment he had grown up in.

-

Percy was glad that the interview with the housekeeper was first thing in the morning, he wouldn’t be able to manage his nerves otherwise. If he had time between waking up and knocking on the door to think he’d drive himself up the walls. 

The walk up the driveway to the house was long enough to have him antsy as it was.

When the door opened Percy reacted first and registered the lady after. "G'morning. I telephoned last week about the gardener job?" Percy smiled, hoping he achieved trustworthy and not devious.

Then his smile dimmed slightly. Was this the housekeeper?

She was younger than he'd expected. From books his mother read to him when he was small and she had a moment's rest and summer's spent as the "poor cousin" in his father's house, he'd expected a greying, short lady. Organised, plump and authoritative. Instead a beautiful, wild woman in her mid twenties who had thrown the door open with maybe a little more force than strictly speaking appropriate. 

“Good morning, come on in. I’m Miss Piper McLean, the housekeeper,” She said cheerily, stepping back to let Percy pass, “Although I do need to warn you if you get the job, there’s a side door that leads into the kitchen which would be best for you to use instead of the front.”

Without waiting for a reply she turned and led the way through the house until they came to the aforementioned kitchen.

It was big. Unnecessarily so, if the conversation Percy had had with Grover and Juniper about the owner of the house was anything to go by.

There were two plain and rather uncomfortable chairs placed opposite each other by the end of the kitchen table.

Piper went to sit, indicating for Percy to do so as well.

“Normally I don’t do the interviews, however the owner was meant to be away until April at the earliest. I will warn you he is home earlier than expected, so if you get the job you won’t be able to slack off,” Piper started, “So, may I see your references?”

Percy pulled out the folded paper and handed it over, keeping his face carefully neutral.

Piper looked at them and then looked at them, “You’ve been rather busy since the war ended.” It didn’t sound like a compliment.

“Yes, when I got stationed over here I fell in love with the country but all my family are in the States. So when I stayed, paid work was paid work,” Percy took some relief in the fact Piper nodded along and hadn’t cut him off.

“All? No girlfriend or wife?” Piper asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“No ma’am.”

“No issues working long hours, that means there'll be little time to get a girl. Would that be an issue?"

“No ma’am.”

“You don’t have any formal experience as a gardener,” Piper noted.

“No ma’am. But I used to help on my fa- cousins estate in New York,” Percy responded.

Piper hummed, playing with the corner of the paper in her hand. It's not until she smiled that Percy allowed a spark of hope that this might be alright to flare up. And if it didn’t Grover and Juniper will need help with the florists after the baby comes until he could find something else.

He was half surprised when he was being shown anything Miss McLean thought would be useful to know. The state of the gardens at the moment - overgrown, wild, an unkempt vegetable patch - a relic from the war - lay in the centre of the grounds, a dilapidated boat shed among other things. The locations he’d most likely find his employer in if he should need him, including the man’s study and library. It wasn’t until Percy was being shown out the front door, which made him raise an eyebrow, remembering what she’d said earlier about the side door, when blond brushed-out curls, a scarf and now bright blue eyes came padding out of a room just to the left of the door reading a leather bound book. For a moment Percy wondered if he should introduce himself or bow or something when Mr Blue Eyes looked up and raised a single eyebrow.

"Good morning, I was unaware we had a guest. Piper?" The book snapped shut and a large hand grasped Percy's before he'd processed much beyond he knew that voice and that scarf.

"This is the man who applied for the groundskeeper job," Piper explained.

"Percy Jackson," Percy added.

"Apollo," Mr Blue Eyes said, "Just Apollo to my staff. Are you free to start, say, on Wednesday? 7 o’clock?"

Percy blinked, unsure if he was serious or not. But he nodded all the same.

He thought he heard Piper mutter something about interviews and 'why did she bother?'

But Percy didn't care, he had gotten the job.

“It would be six days per week, Sundays off. And the pay would be average at best. But if you can manage that, I have a cottage at the far end of the grounds which you can have for the time you work here. It'll need clearing out I'm afraid, Piper did warn me the grounds would get out of hand without someone around to look after them but then... I got carried away with other things, so the groundskeeper's cottage has been used as storage unfortunately. Anyway, I'll see you Wednesday, I need to hunt down my tea," Apollo waffled.

Percy thought he could listen to him talk for eternity - he had that kind of voice.

Over the following weeks, Percy realised the household wasn't what he'd expected when he saw the advert in the paper. But after meeting the man who had brought it, it had started to make sense. It felt like a playhouse brought to life; large windows with billowing curtains, dark wood furniture and a seemingly endless supply of beautiful models, artists, writers, sculptor arguing over philosophy and history and 'culture' whilst nursing hangovers filtering in and out. Somewhere where it should always be summer, bright and hazy and filled with laughter and the crackle from a gramophone in the day time and the radio in the evening.

Percy eventually realised that Apollo didn’t actually have many guests, they were the same twelve or so over and over again. Floating in and out of the house and rarely visiting the garden, due to the state it was in. Nine women who spent most of their time loudly chattering, even when Percy noticed Apollo wincing from the volume, his fingers itching to touch his hangover induced headache. Ms Artemis also appeared, looking just as severe as the first time Percy had seen her, and she tended to bring a blue eyed, brown haired man in tow. The final guest, if Percy could call him a guest, was clearly a lawyer - sorry, solicitor.

The guests were characters Percy supposed. A bit mad, loud, thoroughly obnoxious by and large. But they mostly left him alone as he began taming the wild grounds so he didn't mind their occasional joke about the ‘American in the garden.’

He spent most of his evenings, despite the bone deep ache from the day's work, sorting through the clutter in the groundskeeper’s cottage until he eventually had three clear rooms. 

The kitchen, the living room and his bedroom.

The clutter had been a blessing and a curse, so by the time the kitchen was cleared, Percy had enough crockery and cookware from the various boxes to not need to spend money on those. His bed needed some care though, but Grover had leant him the mattress from his spare room until he’d saved enough for that. But the most useful may have been when Percy had unearthed the copper bathtub from the clutter and managed to take an actual bath in his living room in front of a small fire, built from the wood he had collected from that day's work. 

It had taken almost two weeks but he finally wasn’t dependent on the sink kitchen and a washcloth.

He hoped that Grover wouldn’t mind if he saved for a little teddy bear for the baby before worrying about a new mattress.

-

Apollo barely said a word to him after that first conversation but Apollo's eyes constantly followed Percy as he worked.

Percy at first ignored the looks. Apollo may have been the man who caught his attention on the train leaving London, he may be distracting. But this wasn’t the first time Percy had noticed a beautiful blonde man, he remembered how it went with Jason. He wouldn’t repeat that. 

He wouldn’t.

Instead he had thrown himself into a routine, waking early, and going section by section through the grounds until it resembled a garden for a wealthy gentleman's country home then a jungle. It kept him occupied or at least occupied enough that he wasn’t constantly thinking about blonde curls and blue eyes.

The longer he worked the more Percy realised just how much of wild Apollo had let the grounds get. It was bad enough that Percy had found, one morning near the end of the first month, a half buried pretty neo temple in the woods. His Greek is non-existent but he’s fairly sure Ἀφροδίτη coupled with the statue of a beautiful women, doves painted on the far wall that this was meant to be a temple to Aphrodite. 

Call him paranoid or superstitious but Percy was half convinced he was being watched whilst inside the tiny building. Looking around he saw nobody, just him and the statue. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched though. As the hairs on the back of Percy’s neck raised, he decided that clearing the tree branches, leaves and dirt would become his main priority that afternoon.

He tended to spend lunch with Piper in the kitchen, getting up to speed on anything and everything she decided he needed to know about. Frequently that meant a small affair or alleged affair of a couple he'd never heard of in a village he'd never been to and slowly as they talked they went from Mr Jackson and Miss McLean to Percy and Piper. But that time he decided to ask, “Why… Piper? Why are the grounds this… bad? Surely there was somebody to maintain them over the past few years…”

Percy winced as Piper went quiet.

“It’s not really my place to say… especially not details,” Piper bit her lip, looking down at her sandwich. Percy thought he wasn’t going to get anything else but then Piper started speaking slowly, carefully, “Apollo graduated from Cambridge just before the war started and he had a friend, who loved the garden. Sometimes Apollo used to joke that his friend preferred the garden to him sometimes. Anyway, they both enlisted… Apollo came back, his friend didn’t.”

Percy’s heart sank, “So many didn’t… Is that why there’s a neglected temple to Aphrodite in the woods?”

Piper nodded, “It’s also why his mood is … unpredictable.”

Percy hummed, he had noticed how some days Apollo looked like he never knew a single day of suffering, like they hadn’t all survived a war. But then others he hid away and Percy would only know he was still in the house by the occasional curtain twitch or Piper taking lunch upstairs on a tray.

After he’d stood and deposited his plate and cup in the sink, when he was about to go out the side entrance Piper had mentioned the first time they met, Piper spoke up again, “He’s getting better though, since you came here.”

-

The village near the estate became eerily quiet every Sunday. The church service was long thanks to the nearly ninety year old priest forgetting bits, repeating himself and at least once falling asleep at the pulpit. So Percy took the time to explore the fields and the woods that weren’t connected to the estate in the morning. He started to think maybe this place could be home as the days got longer and warmer as he settled into the steady rhythm of life here.

Once everyone had filtered out of the church, Percy would head over to the Underwood’s. Helping Grover convert the spare room into a nursery, helping Juniper cook and insisting on cleaning when her ankles swelled. Eventually this shifted to insisting they both leave the little flat above their shop, whilst he babysat Flora Underwood, the newest family member.

When Percy wasn’t with his adopted family, he organised his little cottage until it resembled a home before raiding the nearest public library to soldier through a book or two to distract from the endless plants, soil and him . He even sat down and wrote a letter to his only remotely friendly half sibling - Kym -  in the quiet moments, finally letting someone know he wasn’t still in London.

Unfortunately this didn't completely distract him and he realised one day, maybe a week or so after Flora was born, that Percy had catalogued, subconsciously, all those looks away in a mental box for later. The image of Apollo reclining on his chair at the head of the dining room table, in clear view of the French doors and therefore the garden, started haunting his dreams and then his waking hours. An ancient god reclining in his throne. Beautiful. Bored. Apollo wrapped in a silk scarf, poorly buttoned white shirt and linen trousers as if he’s in Egypt and not the southern coast of England.

It got worse when he started picking up on little quirks about his employer. Apollo seemed to be allergic to shoes the minute the weather was warm enough to not give him frostbite. He'd noticed once when Apollo stuck his head into the kitchen to steal an apple that he just wore a pair of thick woollen socks on his feet. Then he had started stumbling onto Apollo lying behind the laurel trees in the garden on a blanket, Apollo would be happily reading under a parasol... in socks regardless as to whether it was sunny or muddy underfoot.

Apollo would catch Percy looking sometimes, the blank face turned to curiosity then to a smug smile. Apollo would go back to looking down at his book. Eventually that progressed to him stretching out, letting his shirt untuck and his back arch.

Sometimes a lazy, deep groan slipped past his lips and Percy would choke on his own tongue before fleeing.

Slowly Percy learnt how Apollo worked, or at least allowed other people to see himself work. He thought he caught glimpses, when Apollo and his friends finally dared venture into the gardens for picnics, of the cracks in the perfect mask his employer wore. Sometimes Thalia or Clio would be talking and Apollo’s eyes would glaze over, and Percy would feel a burning gaze on him suddenly.

Maybe that was all staring at Percy, as he pruned and shovelled and frowned, was. A distraction for a bored rich man.

Percy tried to ignore the staring, the way he automatically logged if it was a good day or a bad one. 

He smiled despite this and the growing weight in his chest. He ignored the way he dreamt of Apollo standing in a patch of mud just a step off the patio eating an apple and reading a book in the rain as the months dragged on. 

He was going to burn up. Ruin this little calm bubble he’d walked into. He knew with certainty that this could only go one way.

This is how it had started before, with Jason, and a heavy feeling settled across his shoulders. Tense. Fuck .

This could only end badly.

Chapter Text

It was the beginning of summer when it started to escalate from a staring competition confined to the grounds. 

In an attempt to spend less time in a place that seemed to be the physical embodiment of the man he was rapidly becoming obsessed with, Percy started having breakfast with the Underwood's every Sunday. In the afternoons the couple would go to the pictures in the town about half an hour's drive away, both for the benefit of seeing the newsreel before the movie and to give them a break from Flora. Sometimes it would be just so they could go for a walk without the pram or a drive to the coast for the day and pretend they were still a new couple.

And for a couple of weeks, that worked. Soothing the mounting panic and denial settling deep within Percy.

But then Apollo stopped nursing a hangover to avoid church every week and instead took a lazy walk with a gift from Ms Artemis; a new puppy, Mrs O’Leary. The pair would traipse through the fields and down the little road through the village. Their route would take them past Underwood Florist’s and down the little lane that led to more fields than the pup knew what to do with. 

It’s nice enough outside, one fateful weekend, that Percy was trying to wrestle Flora into the pram so he could take her for a walk. But she’s determined to lift her head and kick Percy in the stomach instead of cooperating. And to make it worse, the pram was in the front of the shop so Percy could just start their little trek without any issues, so anyone leaving church early or who hadn’t gone could walk past and see Percy losing a fight with an infant. 

It’s not until Flora ups her campaign of terror to atonal screaming for literally no discernible reason, that the shop bell dinged. Percy thought he was going to have a heart attack as thick golden curls shone in the July sun. 

Flora squawked at being jostled as Percy held her close instinctively but then made a happy gurgling noise, having spotted the tiny Labrador by Apollo’s feet. Or at least Percy thought that's why, unsure if a two month old could actually understand that the little black ball of fluff was a puppy but the screaming didn’t return, replaced by far more ear-friendly cooing. Percy couldn’t bring himself to be angry or embarrassed because,  well, the screaming stopped.

Apollo blinked as he took in the sight of Percy holding this tiny child against his chest. Then he blushed.

Percy nodded to the dog, “Is he friendly?”

“She is,” Apollo nodded and watched transfixed as Percy crouched with Flora in his arms. Bracing for a second to see if the puppy and baby would be okay at eye level before straightening up after they said hello to each other. “I thought you said you weren’t in a relationship.”

Percy glanced towards Apollo, he could feel one eyebrow slowly ascending towards his hairline. “No sir, I’m not in a relationship. Flora is my best friend's daughter. Grover and Juniper Underwood the owners.” He waved his free hand to indicate the shop around them as he spoke.

“Apollo please. Is that how you found out about the job then?” Apollo asked, looking around the small shop.

Percy shrugged before thinking better of it and adding, “No, that was from the advert in the paper. I picked it because of the proximity to Grover.”

Flora was now in the pram, apparently seeing an overexcited puppy was the answer Percy had been looking for.

Apollo shrugged, “It’s okay, Mrs O’Leary was the one leading the way. I think she likes you.”

“I haven’t even met her,” Percy snorted.

“No but I’m sure you could help take care of her from now on? Piper is run off her feet and I can’t walk her all the time,” Apollo said.

“If you want, however I’ll take it out of the hours I’m already working,” Percy bit his tongue but it was too late, a quick thought of how well that would’ve gone down back home or to pretty much any other employer flashed through his mind.

Instead of being dismissed on the spot or chastised, Apollo’s chuckle filled the air. “Of course,” he eventually murmured.

Percy only noticed when Flora giggled that he'd gotten distracted by the flecks of gold in Apollo's hypnotic eyes. And he remembered he was meant to be taking her out on a walk.

As the pair, the baby and the puppy made their way out the shop and down towards the bottom of the lane where the church was to the right and yet another series of patchwork fields were to the left, Percy swallowed his irritation. It felt like God or the Fates or Aphrodite herself decided that this was happening regardless as to how much Percy was against this.

It made his blood boil as his heart leapt at the sight of Apollo cooing at Flora when she sneezed. The mix of Apollo’s gentle humming, Flora’s occasional noises and Mrs O’Leary’s bark made his head hurt - or maybe that’s his blood pressure spiking?

Either way it reminded him of how desperately he wanted this - a beautiful partner he couldn’t get out of his head, a baby and pets - and couldn’t have it.

The irritation bled over into his work life. 

Apollo’s picnic parties became alarmingly frequent. Percy would have to help Piper carry the throws, pillows and a new record player out towards the nicest parts of the grounds - where the flowers were brightest or the sun hung just so the light filtered through the trees, increasing the feeling that this was some sort of daydream, a child’s dollhouse brought to life. Eventually they’d carry out the food and tea and anything else Apollo asked for, that wasn’t completely outside the realms of possibility.

And if Percy made sure Apollo got the cup that needed replacing or the sandwich he knew Piper skimped on the filling then that was between him and whatever deity was actually listening.

He always attempted to stay away from the picnics once they actually started, Apollo’s gaze always felt hot and heavy and it only got worse when they were surrounded by other people. The weight of expectation and social status restraining them, which seemed to leave both of them on fire if the light in Apollo’s eyes was any indication.

Instead he’d take the opportunity to walk Mrs O’Leary around the lake, or bring her with him as he worked.

-

It was hard to tell in the summer haze, with the mist that seemed to blanket the world with nothing but birdsong breaking the silence, what was real sometimes and what was fantasy.

A couple of weeks after the meeting in the florists, and a few days after the most recent of Apollo’s picnic’s, Percy was up early as always to start work. He was shirtless having not quite gotten as far as putting one on when he’d been distracted by the temptation of coffee - a treat he’d brought himself for staying in this job for longer than any other if he didn’t include the naval service.

Percy decided to sit on the chair he’d placed outside his cottage to survey his little patch that Apollo had given him. Unlike the vegetable patch in the main garden that he’d dug up and replaced with Hydrangeas, this one was overflowing with marrows and carrots and beans. Blackberries would be coming in a couple of months and Percy’s mouth was watering at the thought of something sweet that wasn’t dependent on his rations book.

If it wasn’t for the calm that settled over him watching the sun rise and the world slowly wake up he would’ve laughed. It was like a scene from one of his mother’s old romance novels that he thought about using as kindling when they couldn't afford the heating in the winter. The kind where the heroine is always set upon and the suitor is always dashing but otherwise as interesting as dishwater.

Apollo with his golden hair glistening in the hazy early morning light, scarf dangling down past his waist as always, wandered out from in between the thick bushes that hid the main house from the cottage. Giving them both an illusion of privacy. 

Percy’s not sure what’s more ridiculous: Apollo appearing through the morning mist like a Jane Austen love interest or Apollo shoeless as always, carrying a book and saying, “Good morning,” as if this didn’t upset the carefully balanced routine Percy had to avoid doing anything reckless.

Which was difficult. If he was anything after all, it would be reckless.

“Good morning sir,” Percy responded, standing awkwardly with his half finished mug in his hand. Maybe formality will reset whatever this was.

Apollo waved a hand dismissively, “None of the sir stuff. If I had wanted that I would’ve stayed in London with my father.”

Percy only nodded, not sure what to say. Every other time they’d spoken there had been a clear subject, or at least a convenient scapegoat but this? This was different or at least felt different to Percy.

Apollo watched him, amusement making his eyes sparkle. “May I sit with you? It’s nicer watching the sunrise from here than from the house,” Apollo finally asked.

That's a lie. The trees and shrubs are planted and cut in such a way as to block a lot of the sun rising over the lake from Percy's little cottage. It did however nicely frame the sunrise for the master bedroom of the main house.

“Of course," Percy said, nodding to the chair.

Apollo sat with a quiet, "Thank you," that immediately sounded wrong to Percy; nothing about the man sprawled in the chair next to him should be quiet .

Percy wasn't really sure what to do with himself. He remembered his father and uncles sometimes used to have their butlers or groundsmen around them but they would always do the talking and their servant would say something along the lines of "yes sir."

His fingers twitched and Percy felt overexposed, suddenly very aware of his lack of shirt.

Maybe if he slowly shuffled backwards until he could reach the shirt folded in the washing basket Apollo wouldn’t notice?

Before he could even truly gauge how ridiculous that thought was, Apollo glanced at him. "What are you doing hidden away?"

"I'm not," Percy disagreed, he wasn't very good at being back breakingly agreeable.

"But you are. Have you killed someone and need a hideaway? Are you secretly the love child of a royal and an American actress? You look it," Apollo hummed, eye's dancing. At Percy's silence he continues, "No… maybe you've fallen in love with George Orwell's work? Trying your own version of Down and Out ?"

"No Apollo," Percy bit back the retort he actually wanted to say by literally biting his inner cheek hard enough that he tasted blood.

Apollo picked up on it, his eyes shone as he spoke, "Maybe it's a pretty girl? Did she break your heart in London and that's why you escaped to my little corner of the world?"

Apollo stood and crowded Percy, taking the mug from his hands. "No… I think you broke hers, you look like a heartbreaker."

"I am not . And there was no girl," Percy finally snapped.

"So I'm meant to believe I have an Adonis as a gardener, with no story behind it?" Apollo cocked his head as a smile crept across his face.

"I’m hardly an Adonis, sir," Percy breathed, the words escaping before he could think twice about disobeying the specific request to call him Apollo . Percy was far too focused on the fact that those blue eyes would haunt him. 

"Hardly?" Apollo scoffed, "And stop with the sir, it doesn't sound right, at least in the light of day. Call me Apollo, like I’m fairly sure I already said. At least three times now."

"I shouldn-"

"You can and you will or I’ll start my own version of a swear jar. Anyway if I get my way you'll be my Hyacinthus," Apollo hummed.

"And be killed by a discus you threw?" Percy whispered.

"Hopefully not, maybe Achilles and Patroclus instead?" Apollo tried.

"So I die in battle pretending to be you and your grief is so all consuming it leads to your death? But at least our ashes are mixed together?" Percy countered.

"Interesting way around… Echo and Narcissus?"

"Who's trapped pining and doomed only to parrot phrases back to whom?"

"Hades and Persephone?"

"Are you asking me to kidnap you? Or vice versa?"

"Atalanta and Hippomenes?"

"I would like to avoid being transformed into a lion."

"Anthony and Cleo-"

"Are all of your pairings romantic and doomed?"

"What kind of gardener from the rougher side of New York knows so much about Greek mythology?" Apollo asked.

"I -"

"I will work you out eventually," Apollo promised. "You're… a curious creature."

And with that he stepped back, turned on his heel before striding back towards the house. Disappearing between the bushes as if he had never been.

Nothing more than a dream.

After that Percy tried to forget.

Privately Percy decided to change tracks. Instead of whatever dance Apollo was trying to entangle him in or being secretly spiteful in a way reminiscent of little boys in close proximity to pigtails, he decided to hide away until he didn't have feelings. No longer feel the pull that's slowly built and built in the months since the train. Being in a relationship with Apollo at all would be dangerous, the punishment if they were caught was unpleasant and no amount of Daddy's favour would help. Not this time. To make matters worse, Apollo was his employer and landlord. Hence avoid and forget.

Which would have gone perfectly if not for the fact Apollo refused to be avoided or ignored.

At least twice a week, Apollo repeated his morning visit. Sometimes it looked more like he'd been up all night, having not changed out of the previous night's clothes. Others he was quietly reading next to Percy in the vegetable patch whilst Percy ate his breakfast. Percy learnt quickly that Apollo liked the sound of his own voice, he couldn’t blame him since he did too, so the quiet didn’t last long. Instead Apollo filled the silence with a handful of lines he particularly liked.

Percy was half convinced he was becoming an expert on half the Romantic poets - particularly Blake - and knew an unnecessary amount about various Renaissance painters. Well an unnecessary amount so long as he ignored how the warm feeling in his chest grew at Apollo's little excited kick, and his head tilting towards Percy just before he started reading to him. 

" Tyger, Tyger burning bright -"

" In the forests of the night . You've already read that one," Percy interrupted, a smile playing on his lips.

"Yes but I like that one," Apollo mumbled, a small pout on his face.

Percy melted despite himself.

"Sorry for interrupting then," Percy snorted, then caught himself as he went to nuzzle Apollo's curls.

Fuck.

Then Percy found Apollo "waking with the sun" as he called it, even outside of the days he came to visit Percy's little cottage. The timing worked out so that Apollo would be having his first cup of tea in his second floor office with a view of the garden or on the patio around the time Percy was starting to cut the grass or clear up the next section of the garden. But Percy found Apollo did seem preoccupied with something, he just wasn’t divulging what and it wasn’t Percy’s place to ask.

Although that did mean that Apollo had frequently fallen asleep shortly after lunchtime and Percy couldn’t work out if Apollo was more adorable or handsome whilst sprawled out on the wicker chairs on the patio surrounded by notes and ledgers. What he could agree on, was this was not helping with his overall plan to move on.

-

Apollo padded through to the kitchen one afternoon, the sun pouring through the windows to spotlight him as always. With a wide grin that seemed to shine, he announced that after reading Three Men in A Boat again he wanted to use the little boat shed and the lake. So after lunch Percy and Piper needed to clear out the tiny boat house to the side of the little lake on the grounds. Percy would've been angry if the summer’s heat wasn’t so overbearing that it made it hard to string coherent thoughts together. 

The image of Apollo cuddling Mrs O'Leary hadn’t helped though.

"I know Piper likes Virginia Woolf, Sappho and any feminist author I can find but what about you, Percy?" Apollo piped up from the threshold of the boat shed. It's just the two of them now as Piper had headed back to the house.

Percy wished Apollo was entertaining guests today. Then he would be left alone and he could take his frustration out on the little shed in peace. Instead he forced himself to relax enough to attempt nonchalance.

"I don't really … I'm not a massive fan of books," Percy shrugged.

"You're not a fan of books?" Apollo raised an eyebrow.

"Why would that be surprising? I prefer more physic- sports," Percy winced as his brain spiralled towards the gutter as the unsaid ‘ physical activities ’ echoed in his head.

"Well you seem to have a decent knowledge of mythology and you don't mind when… when I read aloud," for the first time Apollo looked unsure.

"I … I prefer being read to than reading myself. And it's whatever you like and get excited over," Percy decided that was enough show of trust for the day and that inspecting the boats they'd pulled onto the grass earlier was a better use of his time and energy.

"Percy… Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off?" Apollo asked.

"Apollo?" 

“Trust me."

Percy doubted that would be the wisest decision he had ever made. But he found it easier than breathing recently, and that he didn’t hate that fact as much as he thought he would’ve.

It turned out Apollo had once been a fairly reasonable sailor however hadn’t gone near anything remotely approaching a boat since his rowing days in Cambridge so Percy having the afternoon off became Percy the Oarsman on the little battered vessel. He grunted as sweat dripped down his brow and the sun branded his neck.

Apollo was lounging in front of him, hand trailing in the water, hat and head tilted back as if the more sun he got the better. Mrs O'Leary was tucked in between their legs.

“I’ve been thinking maybe we’re Orpheus and Eurydice?" Apollo suddenly breaks the silence when they get roughly halfway across the pond.

“Excuse me?” Percy asked, raising his head.

“Don’t you remember I’m trying to come up with a parallel for us?” Apollo raised a delicate eyebrow.

“I … is there an us?” Percy grunted.

“If you said yes,” Apollo shrugged, shifting the angle of his hat. He soothed Mrs O’Leary as she whined.

“If I said yes?” Percy echoed, he was the one to break eye contact first. His eyes caught on a tall man on the shore, watching them. “I think we’re being watched.”

Apollo followed his line of sight and let out a laugh, “Hermes, my brother, he’s come a few times with Artemis. He won’t mind waiting a few moments for us to finish up.”

“No,” Percy said, wincing as it sounded too final. Too much like an answer to an unasked question, but which one was still up for debate, “I mean, we can always talk another time. I’ve only seen Hermes three or four times in almost seven months of working for you.”

Apollo was quiet and Percy found himself hating that more than the chaos of emotions the man before him pulled out of his throat.

“Tell me about them?” Percy asked, trying to prompt Apollo out of his sudden stretch of silence.

"Surely you know it?” Apollo scoffed.

“Tell me anyway,” Percy grunted as he leaned back, oars kicking up out of the water for a moment.

“Orpheus… was given a lyre by my namesake, his father, Apollo," he started, sounding unsure, "He was betrothed to the beautiful Eurydice and their marriage was blessed by Hymenaios himself. She passed shortly after the wedding when a snake bit her when dancing with nymphs in the woods. His grief was so profound that his song brought mortals and gods to tears alike. 

“Eventually Orpheus journeyed to the Underworld, to bargain with Hades and Persephone. They agreed to return Eurydice upon one condition, Orpheus led her out of the underworld and did not look back until they had reached the surface. He… He couldn’t keep his side of the deal,” Apollo got a distant look in his eyes. He stopped talking, and visibly dimmed.

“Did they live happily?” Percy grunted, in between strokes.

Apollo frowned, looking back at Percy.

“Did they live happily even if it was only a short period between being married and her death? Do you think that's something to aspire to? Brief but bright enough to risk Hades?” Percy smirked despite himself.

“I don't remember.”

"You don't remember,” Percy echoed and he’s starting to feel like Apollo had it right a few guesses back before he added, “Why do you always go for tragedy or remember the tragic bit?”

“Tragedy … has been a loyal companion for years, far more so than any person,” Apollo mused.

“That sounds depressing,” Percy commented, surprising himself with his answer as much as Apollo.

“Is this the part where I remind you of your station?” Apollo asked, but there’s no heat in his words. He didn't even look offended, as if he agreed on some level.

“Is it?” Percy bit his cheek. He could taste copper.

Apollo said nothing, turning away from him as the boat hit shore and Hermes approached. “Brother!” He shouted, waving madly as he stood, shakily. He hopped out of the boat, sinking ankle deep into the water as he scrambled towards the other man.

Percy stayed frozen in the boat, running over the conversation they just had, the past few months and tried to wrangle the fear gripping him back into a box. He was terrified actually. It felt like he was in quicksand the more he struggled the worse his situation got. It was getting harder and harder to be the groundskeeper who maintained even the illusion of professionalism when it was so easy to just be himself. 

It was so easy to just get swept up.

He was getting more and more attached to the garden, the quickly growing baby and the quicker growing puppy. The stability that came with seeing his friend regularly for the first time since school and Piper's version of housekeeping, which looked a lot more like drinking tea in the kitchen with her boots on the work surface, was grounding in a way he hadn’t had in years. 

And then there was Apollo. 

He was like the sun and Percy just a planet lucky to be orbiting it, even if it will one day consume him entirely. Maybe Apollo should suggest the Sun and Icarus next time and maybe Percy will agree for once.

He’s dimly aware of Apollo and Hermes walking away and back towards the main house. He’s dimly aware that he managed to pull the boat ashore and pull a tarp over the top to keep it from rain. He’s even dimly aware of the course his body takes him on.

When he actually managed to pull himself back together, he was standing in front of Aphrodite's temple. As that sank in, his panic lessened, giving way to resignation. Each step into the temple felt like he had lead in his shoes.

He sank to his knees in front of the statue.

And then he did something he literally never did. Maybe it’s the fact that her gaze seemed to speak to him in a way the cross in his stepfather’s church never did. Maybe it’s the fact the building raised the hairs on the back of his neck like he’s not actually so painfully alone.

He prays.

For what he wasn’t sure. He’s sure he’s doing it wrong and that Aphrodite was the last person he needed. As he sat there and shook, staring at the base of the statue, he slowly lost the pain and the fear attached to his resignation. He was left with just the quiet understanding that his beaten up heart knew what it wanted and wasn’t letting it go. 

That he had to be okay with that.

Or at least try to be.

He'd tear himself to shreds otherwise.

This hollow, shaky acceptance, led them to spending more mornings together, even walking into the village together on Sundays. Apollo proved that rowing was like riding a bike - you never truly forget how to - the third time they took the boat across the lake together and Percy’s hand was hurt from an incident with a knife in the kitchen. Despite the fact Percy was entirely unnecessary, Apollo still insisted on taking Percy with him and Mrs O’Leary every quiet afternoon. And Percy found himself falling into whatever this was so easily once he let go.

So easily the meetings in the morning, slowly went from the groundskeeper’s garden to Percy’s front room to the doorway leading to the stairs. As they hovered - neither quite ready to rush the moment - Percy’s back pressed against the wooden frame, he buzzed with energy. It was painfully early, he hadn’t had coffee or tea yet, but this was the most alive he had felt in years.

“Icarus,” Percy murmured, any louder and he was worried he’d break the moment.

Apollo hummed, eyebrow raised.

“Icarus and the Sun,” Percy clarified.

“That’s not a romance,” Apollo murmured, eyes dropping to Percy’s lips. “It’s a metaphor for man overreaching his limits…”

“It felt like one,” Percy shrugged, “Burning up from getting too close to something you desire but shouldn’t have.”

Apollo’s palms cupped his cheeks, thumbs scraping across Percy’s stubbled jaw. His mind was racing as Apollo’s face came closer, head dipping to close those last few inches. 

The kiss was gentle. So soft Percy almost missed it as his heart lurched. Electricity racing up and down his spine, finger twitching.

He moans into the kiss.

It’s been so long… his hands shakily came up to hold Apollo's waist.

And then the metaphorical wheels came off; different blue eyes, straight blonde hair and a scarred lip flashed across his mind's eye. He froze.

"What's wrong?" Apollo purred as he moved to kiss Percy's jaw.

"N-nothing," Percy groaned out, screwing his eyes shut for a moment. It hurt a lot more than it should. And the pain, when Apollo's presence disappeared so fast Percy's centre of gravity was thrown off, was overwhelming.

Apollo's beautiful face had lost his smile, eyes turning slightly wary. "Sorry, if I overstepped," Apollo eventually said stiffly, clearly unused to apologising for anything.

Percy shook his head, his fingers itched - wanting Apollo closer and much, much further away at the same time. "It's fine... just I…" Percy trailed, annoyed at himself for not being able to translate the intense clash of feelings into a coherent string of words even to himself let alone to Apollo right now.

Apollo watched him for a few moments before realisation seemed to dawn on him. A lightbulb seemed to turn on behind his eyes and he stepped back. “From getting too close,” Apollo echoed.

Percy's fingers twitched and his stomach lurched . Apollo was pulling away and he couldn't work out how to coax him back. How to get the smile, the twinkle in his eyes and the endless mythological and historical references back.

The rest of the day and the one that followed were the first in weeks that Percy didn't feel Apollo's eyes on him. Not once.

Chapter Text

Percy felt like he was holding his breath as the minutes dragged by with no word or sighting of Apollo. The whole world seemed to standstill. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Until Sunday finally stumbled into existence.

Percy's normal Sunday plans had been disrupted by Juniper's mother visiting and he had entertained the idea of spending it with Apollo. Quietly. Privately. More a wishful thought than an actual plan. But that wishful thought had quickly turned into a burning need the longer Apollo spent hiding away.

It was reckless, desperate and a little out of left field - maybe a little too much given it hadn’t been that long or particularly well defined in reality. But if Percy thought dancing around each other for months was painful… It was nothing compared to the distance and the silence now. Not knowing if Apollo was just having a longer down period than usual or if his freezing that morning had shattered something fragile and new was worse.

He missed the steady presence of Apollo, the way the world seemed to shift around him - bend to him -, and not just visibly around the house but by his side.

It's messy, because after years of annoying teachers and endless cane based nightmares his handwriting was still dreadful, scratchy. But it's there. Ink on paper and in his worn hands.

He ran over the short note in his head, nerves running wild:

'I love you as one loves certain obscure things,   

Secretly, between the shadow and the soul.'

P

He translated it, not sure if Apollo would understand the original. The poem used to remind his mom of his father when she first found it. She'd said it so often when it was just the two of them he thought he'd only ever associate it with her - no matter how ill fitting. Until now. Now it's him. It's Apollo, first and foremost.

Percy toed off his boots to not track mud past the kitchen and into the rest of Apollo’s home. As he walked through the hallways he debated whether this would get him fired or closer to Apollo. In the end it was a mute point as he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had to risk it. 

Chase Apollo just a little since Apollo had spent this whole time chasing him.

At first, he thought he’d find Apollo in his bedroom. Since that’s where the man would hide away on the bad days but the door was left ajar and the curtains pulled back, window slightly open and curtains blowing in the wind.

Next he tried the library, where else would a bibliophile hide? No, nothing. Just the tranquil, still space filled with books and shafts of light from the high windows.

Finally Percy came to the study, by this point he started worrying that Apollo had actually left the village in the night, especially as he couldn’t hear anything through the thick wooden door. Then he worried about what he’d say if he did find Apollo. The nervous questions scratching at the back of his consciousness floated to the forefront. Would Apollo be upset with him? Was this crossing some line in the sand he was unaware of? They never really clarified anything. Percy never actually said yes. He was so preoccupied with worrying about repeating The Jason Incident that he never considered falling into the same trap his mother had. Or would Apollo just be confused because he was simply buried under work and didn’t think anything of the past few days?

Before Percy could spiral completely, he heard a whine inside. Mrs O’Leary. And then he heard a shaky voice quietening her down.

He didn’t need to think anymore.

Percy slipped the note into his trouser pocket and opened the door.

The study was a mess, the papers had been strewn all over the desk and some had made their way onto the ground. There were piles of books and a flute about half a foot away from its case. Apollo was hidden behind a couch near the fireplace. His feet sticking out from behind it.

Mrs O’Leary came barking out from her owner’s hiding space. Her little tail wagged too fast to properly track.

Percy scooped her up, and quietly made his way towards the feet that tensed when Mrs O’Leary moved and the click of the door slotting back into place resonated throughout the quiet room. He murmured Apollo as softly as he could, wincing slightly as the feet disappeared and he rounded the corner of the couch to see Apollo in a ball.

He was still wearing his silk scarf, though this time over pyjamas. His normally perfect curls were frizzy and one was determinedly sticking out in the exact opposite direction to all the rest. He looked tired, eyes bloodshot behind the wire frames he used for reading.

Percy had never been more entranced.

In the moment where their eyes met neither of them said anything, both trying to process what they were looking at. And then Apollo blushed and started trying to push himself up.

Percy didn’t let him get far. Sinking to his knees and wrapping an arm around Apollo’s middle.

“Please talk to me,” Percy said, gently encouraging Apollo to fall back down but this time with his head cushioned by Percy’s arm. Mrs O’Leary wiggled in between their bodies, cold nose pressed against Percy’s thin shirt.

“Only if you talk to me,” Apollo’s voice was scratchy, like he hadn’t spoken in a while.

“His name was Jason,” Percy murmured, “We were young, we were a bit reckless and got sloppy and now I’m here and he’s not.”

Apollo stared for a long time, so long that Percy thought he’d missed the mark. Eventually Apollo said, “Promise me you won’t laugh?”

“I promise.”

“His name was Thamyris,” Apollo murmured.

Percy tried not to snort.

“You promised!” Apollo rasped but there was a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Sorry, sorry… just it changes the whole Hyacinthus line a little. Tell me about him?” Percy reached out and gently started rubbing his thumb along Apollo’s side.

“We met in choir practice in our first year, bonded over our unusual names,” Apollo started, ignoring Percy’s raised eyebrow, “He was so beautiful, dark hair, wicked smile and a voice that left people in tears... Father had gifted me this house a couple summer's prior so when one thing led to another… we ended up here. It was only meant to be a weekend but it ended up being the entire summer, and the next. It was perfect.” Apollo’s voice cracked at the end.

“He loved the garden didn’t he?” Percy murmured, smiling encouragingly.

Apollo nodded, glasses shifting so they were crooked. “I- We- there were a few spats. But most of the time it was good, but then…”

Percy pulled him closer, face crumpled with concern. He quietly hoped Mrs O’Leary would move before she’s crushed. 

“It- It’s fine," Apollo tried to soothe and Percy almost quipped that wasn't it meant to be Percy looking after him, "Well it’s not fine but … we enlisted right out of university and were separated. We got long enough to promise we'd write and come back to here, this house, after it was over.

"I was in Naval Intelligence on the south coast because I speak German, Russian and Italian … and possibly because my Father put a word in. None of my siblings were allowed forward positions, not even Ares and he wanted that. 

“Thamyris wasn’t so lucky, he died in Africa. 2nd September 1940…” Apollo trailed, eyes widening as he realised exactly what he’d said.

Percy blinked, surprised, “The 2nd? Today? Today! You were going to spend the anniversary of his passing in here? Alone?”

“I wasn’t alone, I had Mrs O’Leary…” Apollo trailed.

Percy felt an irrational stab of annoyance amongst the overwhelming worry but shoved those aside as he’s done countless times before to focus on the fragile man in front of him. Gently stroking up and down his arms, once he'd discounted the anger there was just the overwhelming need to comfort him. Let him know his life didn’t end just because his first proper romance had.

It took a little time but Percy managed to coax him up onto his feet, and helped him onto the couch. It was an old, vintage one that looked more designed for a regency lady to pose on than for someone to actually relax on. 

Percy sat with Apollo’s feet in his lap. Gently digging his palms into one foot, until Apollo’s body started to sag.

“I’m taking the day off by the way,” Percy eventually broke the silence.

Apollo laughed, loud and surprised. It sounded like someone had wrenched it from his throat.

As Percy watched the tension slowly melt out of Apollo, then those beautiful eyes closely sliding shut, he couldn't help but feel grateful that he hadn't just left the note on Apollo's bed or slipped it under the door.

By lunchtime, Apollo had had both feet massaged, fallen asleep twice - and by the dark circles under his eyes, he needed it -, and curled up into Percy’s side with one of the books thrown on the floor. 

If it wasn’t for the occasional sniffle, this would’ve been the most blissful impromptu day off Percy had had the entire time he’d worked for Apollo. Sure the afternoon’s on the lake were lovely but in here, there was the pleasant warmth and crackle from the fire he’d lit when Apollo had taken his second nap, Apollo’s bodyweight pressed against him and Mrs O’Leary warming his toes as she snored away. It chased the anxiety and sadness from the last few days away. Blew life back into Percy’s weary bones in a way not even little Flora had managed to. Made him feel warm and safe and sleepy.

It had been a while since he slept properly.

There was a knock on the door as Percy teetered on the edge of sleep.

Before either man could react the door creaked open and Piper filled the doorframe, tray of sandwiches and pot of tea in hand.

Percy froze, if you asked him, he’d swear his heart stopped beating. For a moment, he felt a lot younger and a lot less dressed. He blinked and Piper looked like an older, sterner woman but the shrieking didn't start. He blinked again and Piper was Piper, with a small smile tugging at her lips and an arched brow. The tray was on a coffee table just in front of them by the time Percy felt his heart start to thud like a jackhammer again, “I’ll go get another cup,” was all she said.

After the door closed with a creak and a click, Percy became more aware of Apollo stroking his arm gently. Percy turned his head to look at Apollo, perfect eyes watched him from behind elegant glasses. He felt dreadful and not just because he thought he was seventeen again for a few horrible moments. He was meant to be the strong one today, looking after Apollo in his mourning.

“Piper is wonderful, although sadly not everyone is,” Apollo started quietly, testing the waters, “But I don’t make a habit of keeping employees or guests or family who would… gossip or cause problems about finding you with me. You’re safe Percy. You’re okay.”

Slowly Percy relaxed enough to pick up a sandwich, encouraging Apollo to do the same. It was both needed since neither had had breakfast and a useful distraction from the question clearly on the tip of Apollo’s tongue.

Why exactly had Percy run 3335 miles from his family?

“Percy, can I ask what that was -,” Apollo was cut off by the sound of the door and Percy could have kissed Piper as she hurried back in.

“There we go, do you need anything else?” Piper asked, raising an eyebrow.

It rose even higher when Percy meekly muttered, “No, thank you.”

Apollo was quiet as well but Percy didn’t know if he actually acknowledged Piper’s question or not. All he registered was that Piper left the room with Mrs O’Leary following her until the door shut and the not-so-little pup bounced up and down trying to coax and scratch Piper back into the room.

Silence descended as Mrs O’Leary quieted down.

“I’m going to sit here and drink tea. When you are ready to talk about whatever that was, I’ll be right here,” Apollo said gently, one leg folding over the other as he relaxed back into his seat.

“What if I don’t…”

“You don’t have to say anything today,” Apollo said. Although Percy wasn’t looking at him, he knew Apollo was smiling but Percy was too grateful at not having to finish the sentence to be annoyed by that.

“Okay,” Percy murmured eventually, privately wondering when was the last time he’d accepted comfort of any kind let alone this - an open invitation.

By the time the fire had died and both men were more centred, they heard Piper hitting the gong that signalled dinner was ready to be served.

Percy turned to look at Apollo with a confused scowl. He was fairly sure the gong was only used when guests were here.

Apollo just laughed, fingers reaching out and smoothing over the wrinkles, “I think she didn’t want to disturb us by coming and getting us.”

Percy stared when Apollo stood and stretched, his shirt riding up. The annoying voice in the back of his head said that staring was inappropriate given the exact circumstances but his eyes stayed glued to that slither of exposed skin nonetheless. 

“Have dinner with me?” Apollo asked, his deep voice made Percy shiver.

Then his words registered and Percy’s head snapped up to look into amused blue eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Apollo snorted. His beautiful face was so red from crying, it made Percy want to pull him back down and wrap him up in a blanket.

Instead he stood, and made his way to the door. “I’d love to,” He said as he reached the door, one hand grabbing the doorknob, another slipping into the pocket with the note. For what felt like the hundredth time today, Percy froze, where was the note?

As casually as he could manage, he turned and looked towards the couch where Apollo was still standing. He couldn’t see the slip of paper and before his panic became a tangible, noticeable thing, Apollo smiled at him and started walking towards him, “Come on, Piper doesn’t like lateness.”

Percy thought Apollo seemed to radiate happiness the rest of the night. He was worried that this was an act to make Percy feel like he had improved Apollo’s mood or the calm before the storm. But like most things about Apollo, Percy found himself in love with it, whatever it was. 

He almost forgot about that missing note. Almost.

-

After that day Percy was allowed more and more access to the house. It crept up on them until it felt strange for their mornings to not start off with Apollo having breakfast in Percy’s cottage and end with Percy curled up on Apollo’s thighs in the light of the various fireplaces in the main house by the evening. But Percy, at no point, found his note or Apollo bring it up. Maybe the gods had looked kindly on him and had Piper sweep it up, unnoticed.

Percy found it hard to worry about the note when Apollo would look at him with that bright smile, like he'd personally scattered the stars across the sky. And as the weather turned and Apollo received less guests but he stayed keeping himself busy until Percy was free. 

Apollo loved Halloween, which shouldn’t have surprised Percy as much as it did. The entire week leading up to the night Apollo walked around in costume. Although Percy only teased him when Apollo would bravely venture outside of the comfort and warmth of his house. The toga was ridiculously short and surely too cold for late October anyway?

He was so busy winter proofing the shed, finishing raking and bagging the fallen leaves and sorting out the draughty groundskeeper cottage that he forgot to ask why Apollo was dressed up and buzzing with excitement. And it definitely had nothing to do with the dangerously short golden toga. Definitely.

So it was only during lunch on Thursday, four days since the first flash of toga and skin, that Percy asked Piper about why Apollo was so ecstatic.

“Ms Artemis is coming over, it’ll be the final visit before the spring,” Piper said. She shrugged as she thumbed through her cookbook, trying to find the dessert that Ms Artemis liked last time. She paused for a second, a page pressed between her forefinger and thumb, “Why? Concerned about getting the talk?”

Percy raised an eyebrow at that. “I don’t know what you mean,” He said stiffly.

-

Percy realised what she meant the moment Ms Artemis had him cornered in the library. She's not in costume, muttering something about "childish men" as she had brushed past her beaming brother earlier. Her eyes are still piercing and sharp as glass, her hair pulled back and arms crossed.

Percy dressed in the tunic, golden painted laurels in his hair, that Apollo convinced him to wear definitely felt like a child about to be reprimanded. Or eaten.

"I know," Ms Artemis started, "And I'm aware my brother is old enough to make his own mistakes but if you hurt him or take advantage, I will hunt you down and skin you. Understood?"

Percy nodded. "I have no intention of-"

"Shh, I don't want to hear promises. Anyone can promise anything, doesn't mean they won't do it. I want to see my brother happy," Ms Artemis cut him off.

And then she was gone.

It took a few moments for Percy’s body to relax, and his brain to reboot. He absentmindedly wondered whether their parents had looked into those eyes and the sky blues of Apollo's and decided they were definitely the Huntress and the Bright One or if they had just inadvertently hit the nail on the head.

Percy shook his head and started his hunt to locate a friendly face. Which is easier said than done since the house had been steadily filling with Apollo's guests for his annual Halloween Party.

Percy had had a sinking feeling after more cars pulled up than normal. And now he felt validated as he moved past people in costumes, some shared enough facial features with Apollo's siblings that Percy had already met for him to know he needed to smile and nod as he passed from room to room.

Eventually he managed to get to the door to the kitchen and spied the back of Piper's head. But before he could actually hide in the relative safety of the kitchen, he feels a hand clamp around his bicep and a high pitched giggle filled his ears, "You must be Percy!"

Percy went rigid as he glanced down at the beautiful blood red manicured hand clawing into his skin. The hand retreated but Percy was painfully aware of the eyes on his back.

He took a breath and turned to come face to face with a woman so beautiful she could be an actress or a model. "Nice to meet you…"

"Aphrodite," the woman said.

Percy tried not to snort. Working for a man called Apollo with a twin named Artemis - nevermind his own family - had taught him to not laugh at weird names. Instead he nodded and murmured, "So how do you know Apollo? His sister-in-law?"

"Yes," Aphrodite nodded.

Percy blinked.

Before he could come up with something to say the same hand looked around his arm in a death grip before pulling him away from the kitchen. "Let me introduce you to everyone. Don't look worried, we only bite."

"Don't you mean 'we don't bite'?"

She only hummed in response. "Oh look! Let me introduce you to Dionysus. He'll love you."

Percy made eye contact with a gorgeous young man that looked utterly bored and incredibly irritated about being poured into a harlequin costume.

Somehow Percy doubted Aphrodite’s claim that Dionysus will love him.

Chapter Text

“Ah you’re the Australian?” Dionysus greeted.

“American.”

“Hermes mentioned you, Peter,” Dionysus continued as if Percy hadn’t said a word.

“Percy.”

“Aren’t you a little overdressed for a gardener?” Dionysus finished, pointedly looking at the costume Apollo thrusted him into.

“I think that’s between my employer and myself and none of you-,” was all Percy managed to get out before long, slender fingers grabbed his wrist and pulls . Aphrodite squawked in indignation checking her nails over as Percy’s pulled out of her grip.

"Sorry Aphy,” Hermes called over his shoulders, not sounding particularly sorry, as he steered Percy away. When they were half way across the room, Hermes laughed. “What made you think talking to those two would end well? That's like willingly jumping into a cage with a lion and a leopard.”

They weaved through the rest of the house towards Apollo’s library, Percy started feeling dizzy with the speed and seemingly endless turns. He’s sure there’s more direct ways to the library.

“Don’t you want to join your wife? I’m sure I can find Apollo on my own,” Percy offered, nodding towards the pretty, short lady dressed as Cleopatra. He thought Apollo had introduced her as Peitho.

Hermes frowned for a moment, “I’m not married, Percy.”

“But I thought that…” He trailed off as they passed a rather loud crowd, spotting Dionysus smiling up at a statuesque woman in the distance. Then his eyes catch on familiar golden curls. Relief flooded through him and before he could properly think it through he was plastered against Apollo’s side. He’s not normally shy, nor quiet but the hungry and calculating looks in most of the guests eyes were unsettling. They looked like they were trying to work out if he was on the dinner menu and had escaped Piper, rather than a welcome guest.

Apollo didn’t seem to mind, as he wrapped his hand around Percy's wrist - a welcome, if unexpected, weight - a smile playing at the corners of his lips for the rest of the night.

-

Piper’s knowing smile grew day by day as she caught Percy leaving the library or study more and Apollo coming back from breakfast with Percy frequently. It would bother Percy if he wasn’t still indulging himself, he was happy and that was a rare enough thing that he didn’t want to ruin it by worrying about possible futures or the rumour mill in the village.

The latter was proving harder though. The visits to Underwood’s Florists to escape the grounds and the beautiful man who owned them had turned into long walks with Mrs O’Leary and Apollo before they all crammed into the Underwood’s living room for Sunday Lunch. Apollo seemed to have an affinity for small, petulant creatures so took to Flora almost as quickly as she did to him.

It was one lazy Sunday afternoon, before Apollo and Percy had to bundle up that Grover finally cornered Percy. Apollo was off helping Flora wash her little fits after she’d smashed her dinner to pieces as opposed to eating it.

“You know I know,” Grover started.

Percy froze. Grover was looking at him with so much kindness and love that Percy knew before Grover spoke that he didn’t need to tense but he couldn’t help it.

“It seems he makes you happy,” Grover started, making sure Percy was looking him in the eyes. “Juniper and I are happy for you. You’re my oldest friend, we love you,” He continued when Percy remained silent.

The next couple of breaths were shaky. His mind blank as it slowly sank in that he wasn’t going to lose his little family. His voice wobbled as he said, “thank you,” all in one rush of air and the amount of relief pouring through his system only doubled when he heard Apollo’s singing and Flora’s giggling getting louder and louder as the two approached the corner Grover and Percy were in.

“Apollo? Can we go for a walk? I think I’m going to sleep,” Percy said, squeezing Grover’s forearm and offering him a small smile in the hopes he’d get that it wasn’t because of something bad. He just needed a moment.

It was silent in the field the trio ended up in, the air was crisp but, without the breeze, not unpleasant. Mrs O'Leary kept bringing a stick to Percy, who'd throw it gently and then watch with a gentle smile as she ran off to pick up a different stick - despite being six months old she still hadn't learnt how to play fetch.

“ I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries/ the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself ,” Apollo said, gazing at the sky above them. Voice cutting through the pleasant silence.

“That’s the next two lines of Pablo Neruda’s sonnet after the two I wrote on that note-,” Percy said, eyes going wide as Apollo lifted the piece of paper up.

“The note fell out of your pocket,” Apollo said with a smile, “It took a moment for me to find the original work because I didn’t recognise it. And then I spent an irrational amount of time debating which lines to say to you."

Percy said nothing for a moment too long. Apollo's gaze dropped to meet his and his brow arched, "D-did you mean it for me? I presumed you did but you… don't seem particularly happy."

"You are… fond of me?" Percy nodded, wincing at his own word choice.

"I think it's a little more than that," Apollo slipped the note back into the pocket he'd been keeping it in before grabbing Percy's wrist. Thumb trailing along his wrist.

Percy thought for a moment in that dreary field, with Mrs O’Leary collecting sticks and Apollo glinting in the fading light like a painting that had faded overtime, this was the most content he'd been in years. This was the most settled he'd felt.

Here in this field with the man he loved, their dog and the knowledge his oldest friend, Juniper and Flora were still there for him regardless - still loved him - he finally felt like he’d found a home.

Percy found himself leaning in until he could nuzzle his nose into Apollo's neck. Eyes sliding close and smile tugging at his lips.

Eventually the silence was broken by Apollo, sneezing and sniffling.

"Shall we head back? Warm up?" Percy murmured, not wanting to move from his hiding spot but also not wanting Apollo to develop a cold.

"No," Apollo said, and Percy had a sudden vivid image of a seven year old Apollo being just as stubborn if not significantly cuter.

"Yes, I'm not sure Piper would want to nurse you back to health after you've spent too long outside," Percy smiled despite himself, thinking that Apollo with a red nose, pyjamas and silk scarf pretending he's worse than he is would be painfully endearing.

"Piper's too busy," Apollo agreed, "But you could. "

"Have you forgotten I'm your gardener?"

"I mean… you could not be?" Apollo said slowly.

Perch froze, worry gripping him, he liked it here and had convinced himself the other shoe wouldn't drop. He thought things were going well. The last five minutes flashed through his mind, trying to work out if he had said something wrong.

Apollo pulled away and the hollow feeling in Percy's chest sharpened and intensified.

He looked at him, sky blue eyes boring into Percy's. Percy blinked at him, noting that the urgent, cautious look on Apollo's face didn't exactly match firing Percy and kicking him out but the nerves were still there.

"Percy, I'll hire another groundskeeper so don't worry about your work being reversed. And you could… move to the main house?" Apollo smiled brightly but Percy thought his ears were ringing and he's not sure that his heart was still beating.

"Wha'?"

Apollo chuckled, "Please live with me, you can always take one of the guest rooms if you don't want to stay in mine?"

"Yeah," Percy rasped, blushing at the way his voice caught in his throat. His fingers twitched, "Yes, I'd like to move in with you."

It struck him, when they returned home, that this was the first time he’d been allowed into this room by Apollo. This was the first time he could really linger and see the most private parts of this impossible man. 

Apollo's - their - bedroom may have been sparsely decorated. It was beautiful, like the rest of the house. Just empty. A bed, an oak dresser and wardrobe, fireplace and a single wooden chair that was more at home in a school’s classroom than in a wealthy man’s home. But when Percy approached the bed he realised the bedding was finer than anything Percy had had even at his father’s.

They hadn’t tried to be more intimate than a foot massage here or there since that kiss at the end of summer but that ache for physical contact, for Apollo pushing him down onto the bed had only grown. And as the nights stretched on, he found it harder and harder to not close the slither of a gap between the two.

-

Percy found himself one dark November afternoon wishing he had never woken up. Had just rolled over and ignored his life. Maybe then he wouldn’t have Piper shrouded in three wraps having not been able to find her coat trudging towards him. She looked worried and Percy thought for a second something was wrong with Apollo or the Underwood’s. Instead she worried him further by touching his forearm and saying, “You need to come to the main house.”

It took him a moment, maybe it was the fact Piper had actually touched him, or the way her eyebrows gently pulled together.

He tried to control the apprehension he felt as he took his gloves off before following Piper through the house and into Apollo’s study. In the past couple of weeks of living together, Apollo never summoned him. He'd come and find him himself or just wait until their paths crossed naturally. 

This time, everything was immaculately clean and nicely ordered in the study. Apollo, himself, was wearing a suit and leaning against his desk. But Percy was unable to appreciate the way it hugged him or the rare sight of Apollo without his trademark scarf, because of the tall man that he’d seen before. Much younger but he’d still seen them.

A worryingly familiar silhouette poured into a black suit. Dark eyes turn to look at him and he’s grateful that he at least managed to look politely bored and not disgusted. “Master Perseus,” the man nodded. 

Percy tried not to wince, “Proteus. Drop the master bit.”

Technically they were half brothers, but Dad had buried this fact under so many documents and red tape, that he was able to get Proteus to work as one of his retainers. There was about fifteen years between them which may as well have been a thousand years when they first met but now… it felt endless. Two strangers who knew they were similar, knew they shared stories but knew nothing about the other one. Nothing important anyway.

As neither man volunteered anything and the staring contest became protracted, Apollo shifted. Coughed. “So, you were saying you’re here to see Percy?”

Proteus broke eye contact to glance at Apollo, Percy thought he saw gratitude in the murky green depths of his eyes.

“Yes, Perseus, you should probably sit down,” He said, sitting down himself to appear less threatening.

Something about the way Apollo wouldn’t look directly at him, Piper’s open concern and Proteus beating around the bush made Percy sit. His mother had taught him when was the appropriate time to bend and when was the appropriate time to not. This was definitely the former.

“I’m guessing my letter to Kym is how you found me?” Percy asked.

Proteus nodded, “That’s not why I’m here though… Perseus… Percy , I’m very sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but Father passed away a month ago.”

Percy froze, he didn’t blink. All he could hear was the roaring of blood in his ears.

“Unfortunately, the funeral has already taken place but when the will was read… Percy?” Proteus stopped, ducking his head to try and get a better look at Percy’s face.

One moment Percy was staring slightly off to the side, more towards the fireplace over his brother’s shoulder than at Proteus. The next, Apollo was crouching down in front of him, hand gripping Percy’s knee and warm blue eyes dripping sympathy.

Percy nodded at the steadying look in Apollo’s eyes before looking back at Proteus. “Sorry, you were saying?” It came out surprisingly calm, but Percy wasn’t letting the reality that he felt like a hurricane was tearing him to pieces bleed through. He couldn’t. Not right now.

“Father left you the summer house on Long Island and $12 000,” Proteus said, calmly.

Percy shoved down the confusion of getting that much money and instead asked, “Any conditions?” He had learnt the hard way that their father was a complicated man and even the most benevolent, altruistic act came with strings or an ulterior motive.

“None,” Proteus reached into the briefcase Percy hadn’t noticed before, it was sitting on the ground leaning against the side of the sofa, “He did however leave you this letter. Nobody’s read it.”

Percy took it with a small nod but didn’t open the letter. Instead he played with the corner of it, feeling physically sick. He didn’t acknowledge when Proteus stood, saying something that sounded distinctly like which hotel he’s staying at to Apollo before making his way out of the room.

“I just always thought I’d get to see my father again. I don’t know why - it certainly wasn’t based on logic. But I thought I’d at least have…” Percy trailed off.

“Have time to prepare?” Apollo’s voice was soft. His arms coming to hold Percy’s middle, for a second Percy registered that he’s not wearing his blaser anymore, but it disappears back into the chaos soon enough.

“Something like that…” Percy curled into his side, “We weren’t on the best terms when we last saw each other.”

Eventually Apollo pulled him up, and nudged him towards the door. For a second Percy’s heart broke thinking this was a dismissal. That their time together had been an illusion, made up by a lonely, isolated man in his adopted country. Irrational but he felt untethered and old fears and fragmented thoughts held more sway than they should at that precise moment. But then Apollo’s hand wrapped around his wrist and led him from the study to the master bedroom. Percy could have cried in relief.

The bedroom was warm despite the fire being low, weak light filtered into the room through the window despite it being only four in the afternoon.

It’s not until Apollo had tucked him in and laid down next to him that Percy started arguing. “Apollo? What am I doing here?”

“Stubbornly working as my groundskeeper when you could just relax around the house as my lover?” Apollo smirked, despite the inappropriateness. 

Percy batted Apollo’s closest hand but with no force behind it, snorting. For a second a smile crossed Apollo’s face before he spotted the letter still clutched in his hand.

“Are you going to read it?”

“Later.”

“Percy,” Apollo sighed.

“Why am I here?” Percy tried again. "I should get back to work. There's stuff to do…"

“You looked like you needed to lie down and I thought I’d take you somewhere safe,” Apollo didn’t reach over the narrow gap between them. It didn’t matter he could’ve laced their fingers together and kissed him, it would’ve felt just as important. Just as intimate. “This whole house is safe. For you. For me,” Apollo shrugged, “In here? In our bedroom? Nobody will come in aside from myself and Piper. Better than letting you walk alone around the grounds in the cold… It’s not the most appropriate time to say this but … I love you, and I’m not letting you grieve alone.”

“Oh,” was all Percy said.

“Oh,” Apollo echoed, a faint sad smile gracing his perfect face.

Percy tried to ignore how Apollo’s confession had thrown delight into the mix as his emotions swirled and tumbled too much like the waves near the Montauk summer house. He tried to ignore the urge to rip open the letter and see what was in it. To be honest, he’s not sure what he’d want in it, what would heal any of the wounds that scream every time he thinks back to his teenage years. Well anytime he looks back full stop. If the letter was literally just a blank document all the way through to a full blown apology, either option would be distressing to read and change nothing. 

His Dad was dead. His Mom too.

He was just richer and the owner of the house where he was conceived one winter’s eve, the wrong side of the Atlantic for his current life aspirations. One that’s filled with old memories and promises and pain.

As an attempt to distract himself, Percy decided to ask a question that had caught his attention months back, “Why did you hire me?”

Apollo frowned.

“Why did you hire me? You just took one look at me and said ‘can you start on Wednesday?’ You didn’t check with Piper about how I interviewed, didn’t even ask if I had any experience in gardening,” by the end Apollo was blushing and Percy was wondering when he broke through the wall of refined, slightly aloof beauty and got to whatever this was.

“I -,” Apollo cleared his throat, “I have a type. Even if you were only someone I watched at a distance, I just wanted - I mean if you had turned out terribly I would’ve dismissed you. Not to say I was thinking of dismissing you at any point, I -”

“You’re starting to ramble,” Percy cut in, warmth starting to blunt the worst of the pain. 

“What I’m trying to say is you’re gorgeous and I didn’t expect us to end up here,” Apollo finished weakly. “I had hoped maybe some level of affection though.”

After that they fell quiet, Apollo seemed to be trying to memorise the image of Percy in his bed. Percy alternated between focusing on Apollo’s beautiful eyes and focusing on the little letter clutched in his hand.

Percy’s not sure when he fell asleep but the next thing he knows, the room was dark, Apollo was gone and the letter was resting unopened on the bed next to him. For the first time in hours Percy felt ready to see what his father’s last thoughts towards him were but it was too dark to read. Typical.

He didn't react when the door opened and warm light spilled into the room.

"Percy?" Apollo's voice washed over him.

A shiver ran up his spine.

A heavy thunk as a scotch glass landed on presumably the chest of drawers echoed in Percy’s ears before warm hands encased one of his on the bed. "Hey sweetheart, do you want to tell me about him?"

It's quiet for so long after that. Percy sorting information and painful memories until his tongue loosened. "My father owns - owned - the ship company Atlantis Ltd, he had an affair with my mother, one of his servants. Promised her the world and, well, he left. He… supported my education but nothing else, so I went to boarding schools with rich jerks and then spent holidays in a tiny cupboard of an apartment with my stepfather and mom. She died when I was twelve so I started spending summers with him and his family … the summer I turned seventeen I was sent away permanently. Because of a transgression …"

Apollo’s fingers tightened around his hand, eyes soft as he murmured "You don't have to tell me why if you don't want to." He'd moved to lie next to him, wrapping Percy up in his arms.

"It's okay,” It felt painful to even just outline his childhood but it also felt nice, in a way. For the first time in a long time, it felt like someone - who wouldn’t judge him - saw him, exactly as he was. “One of Dad's business associates, a Mr Grace… his son, Jason, was beautiful. Cold and formal when I first met him the summer before everything exploded but… then l- I got under his skin and by that point he'd gotten under mine. We were happy being in each other's space, even if we hadn't… done anything. But one night when we were alone at a Labour Day party, we slept together. Exchanged letters the whole following academic year before spending one more summer together. Mrs Grace found us when we were… together, we forgot to lock the door," Percy stumbled through it. 

"Found you in a situation you couldn't talk your way out of?" Apollo guessed.

"Not unless you can argue riding your best friend is platonic…" Percy snorted. Fuck his chest hurt.

"I mean…" Apollo drawled, grunting when Percy elbowed him. "Is that how you ended up enlisting?"

"Pretty much, the whole Jason affair happened in ‘41. Dad suggested I leave for a little bit, I don't know exactly what he had in mind … anyway I enlisted a week or so later. I got a letter from him about a year or so afterwards where he outlined his plan… to, to fix the problem…"

"Did you… did you ever hear from Jason again?"

"No. Dad's letter informed me Jason was wounded in the Pacific within the first month or so of getting out of basic training. I think it had unnerved him and that's why I got a letter," Percy laughed but it sounded hollow even to his own ears. “I don’t know what happened to him after that.”

Apollo nodded slowly, “Not knowing is sometimes worse. Lots of questions but no answers.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Percy mumbled, pressing his face into the crook of Apollo’s neck, “Jason has had years to smuggle a note to me or he could’ve argued at the time… instead he fell into line.”

Apollo hummed, arms tightening.

“Anyway, I - er, this is nice,” Percy winced and felt his cheeks heat.

Apollo let out a laugh, bright and sharp, “Nice? Just nice ?”

“I’m happy with you,” Percy amended and Apollo quietened down, eyes dancing and grinning.

“And I, my dear Percy, am happy with you,” Apollo said.

In the dimness of the room, with Percy’s skeleton yanked out of its cupboard and presented in all its glory to Apollo, who didn’t laugh at him or tell him he deserved any of it, Percy felt whole in a way he hadn’t done in a long time.

The gentle way Apollo held him, listened to him, spoke to him had soothed the rawist edges and the wounds he wasn’t even sure he was aware had healed wonky until now made Percy's heart swell. He still felt a mess, the seemingly immovable force of nature that was his father suddenly being forever out of his reach weighing heavy on him but it felt right to lean forward and brush his lips against Apollo’s in that moment.

It felt right when long fingers threaded through short black curls and fisted Percy's blue jumper.

Percy felt alive, like something clicked into place and a fire in him was lit. He tried to keep up whilst drowning in the feeling of electricity dancing up and down spine, his head feeling dizzy.

For the first time in a long time, as his head spun, fire raced up and down his veins and Apollo growled beside him, Percy felt hopeful. 

Maybe this wasn’t his ruin.

Maybe things will get better from here.

Chapter Text

Winter crept in and blanketed the world in white as it did, Percy's days fell into a pattern. Long slow walks through the grounds with Mrs O'Leary after breakfast, soldiering through old leather bound books and exploring the airy home. Eventually he’d meander into Apollo's office in the early afternoon and nap on the couch by the fire. Piper would almost always end up bringing afternoon tea to the study, no longer surprised to find the pair and the pup all together. The evenings were lazy and the nights long.

It was lazy and indulgent but most importantly it gave Percy time to order his thoughts regarding America and home, himself and his estranged, dysfunctional family. 

With the biting wind that howled for most of the day, the thick snow and thicker frosts Percy was glad that he was no longer the groundskeeper. Although he found himself struggling with finding things to do in the main house, he couldn’t even start interviews for his replacement until the snow melted. That meant that Percy was indescribably grateful when Apollo took a break from work midway through December.

“Do you want to go back to the States?” Apollo asked on the first afternoon of his holiday. They’re in the library but the books they’d found were long discarded in favour of Apollo slowly massaging Percy’s feet as the latter reclined on one of the couches.

Percy hummed content. He tried to push off the heavy feeling he got whenever he thought about the house he now owned. “I probably should, at least see the state the house is in... Maybe see Kym.” He didn’t want to, he barely wanted to move to the dining room right now let alone travel to somewhere that had always felt like it should be home.

Apollo’s talented hands stilled and the next words came out halting, hesitant, “Would … would you like company?”

Percy blinked and tilted his head to take in the sandy curls, gorgeous eyes framed by delicate golden wire frames. His hand came up to entangle in the sapphire blue scarf, with a gentle tug he pulled Apollo towards him. The kiss was more of a peck, the feelings rolling around in his chest both familiar and warm. When Percy pulled back he stayed close enough that he could smell the coffee Apollo had tried - and promptly gagged on, adding seven sugars immediately - on the man’s breath, “Yes, come with me.”

Apollo’s eyes looked unfocused, or maybe that was how close they were to one another, but the enthusiastic nod tore a laugh from Percy’s lips. Delighted that he wouldn’t be facing the world alone anymore.

He’d never been happier than in that moment.

-

Before they sailed to America there was one thing they needed to do. They left Piper to unearth the car from the garage and the snow, which Percy felt a twinge of guilt for leaving her to it. Instead Percy shouldered a bag filled with presents and the pair spent what felt like hours trudging across the grounds and down the lane at the bottom towards the village. It was the faster route but it was by no means fast.

The adults in the village had hunkered down for the most part, staying indoors, but the street was flooded with children. They were bundled up, rosy cheeked and throwing snowballs. Percy smiled as he spotted a couple of children dragging a tea tray with a rope, a small dog sitting on the tray looking around happily.

The exception to the adults sat just outside Underwood's Florist. Grover was sitting on the ground, ignoring the way the snow must be uncomfortable, so Flora could sit in his lap and occasionally hit the ground with her tiny fist.

As Grover looked up and made eye contact with Percy, a smile broke out across his face. Percy grinned back before refocusing on Flora. He watched as Flora took her little mittened fist and smeared a fistful of snow into her father’s stubble. Grover’s face was priceless.

At that moment Percy vowed next year they’d be sharing Christmas with the Underwood’s come hell or high water.

“Good morning, how is my favourite niece?” Percy practically sang.

“Percy, Apollo,” Grover nodded but was drowned out by a loud shout from Flora.

Apollo dipped down to pick the child up, cooing. He started to nod along to the babbling as if Flora was saying something profound. 

Percy’s heart melted. And there was a horrible pang in his chest at the knowledge they could never have this with their own child.

“Why don’t you both come in?” Grover said softly, standing and opening the door behind him.

They all shuffled in single-file. It wasn't until they'd made their way upstairs that Percy realised how cold he had been. The shooting pain from his toes coming back to life and the dull ache of his fingertips burning as they adjusted to the warmth of the Underwood's flat was something he could have lived without.

To take his mind off his discomfort, Percy glanced around at the red and green bunting that Grover had put up. There were garlands and wreaths covering the ghastly dollies on the tables and pinned to the work surface. Something was missing from the scene although Percy couldn't quite figure out what that was, which annoyed him. It was like an itch just out of reach.

Maybe next year, when Apollo and Percy would be home for Christmas they could buy their garlands and wreaths through Grover so little Flora could get a bigger present. Providing they were still together come Christmas next year.

"Percy!" Juniper exclaimed as she came out of the backroom that had once been the guest bedroom. "Good afternoon. Good afternoon, Apollo."

Percy smirked as Apollo pouted. He wasn't sure if Apollo pouted at being acknowledged second, or at Percy getting a kiss on the cheek and him not, but he didn't bring himself to care. Apollo looked adorable, human, and it just reminded Percy that this impossible man was real. That he was flesh and blood rather than marble and myth.

"G'afternoon Juniper, how have you been?" Percy asked. He shoved the need to touch Apollo even if only to touch his arm or kiss his cheek himself.

"Good although I would be better if somebody would stop fussing," Juniper teased, glancing back at Grover with a wide smile. "Tea? Biscuits?"

"Yes please, Juniper dear. Percy keeps ordering coffee and Piper keeps making it and it's disgusting," Apollo said.

Percy snorted since Apollo bouncing a child on his hip and whining didn't exactly hit the right buttons for him to feel remotely guilty about their private hot beverage war.

Juniper just laughed, bright and clear, as she went over to their bulky, old stove.

"Where's the Christmas tree?" Percy blurted, finally realising what was missing.

Grover scratched the back of his neck, "We didn't get one this year."

Percy blinked at his old friend, not entirely sure what to say to that.

"Next year you must all come up to ours," Apollo said, without missing a beat. "God knows there's enough spare rooms. It would be nice having guests and a little one to decorate a tree with."

Percy's cheeks burned as he processed Apollo casually claiming his home was theirs. And not for the first time found himself feeling slightly overwhelmed in the best possible way in this little world they were creating.

Grover looked between the pair, frowned and then seemed to come to a decision. He waved for the pair to sit as everyone had just been loitering and declared, "I couldn't think of a better pair to spend the holidays with. Definitely beats being dragged to listen to Reverend Hallet, if he forgets his place one more time in a five line passage I'm going to stage a protest."

"You?" Percy smiled, remembering the nervous boy who wouldn't say boo to a goose.

"Yes me, although it may look more like forgetting to set the alarm clock than anything else," Grover smiled back.

Juniper reappeared and as Percy leant forward to pick up his cup, his shin knocked his bag. Presents spilled out.

As Flora squealed, "Pa-ents!" at the presents when they tumbled out of Percy's backpack, he decided then and there that no matter what next year he'd be spending the entire holiday with his patchwork family.

-

Percy felt comforted being so close to the water once again as their ship cut through the waves. The sea was choppy and dark as it churned below but he felt calm. The sea had been his home, his sanctuary for years. It was not without risk, not without the ever present spectre of death, but it was an escape from his childhood that had gone up in flames.

As he peered over the handrail, looking out into the darkness, the still unread note from his father seemed heavy in his pocket.

Percy’s unsure why he still had it. Why he hadn’t either read it or burned it. Leaving his father’s last words to him in the past. Why he felt like crying every time he remembered him but couldn’t bring himself to find out exactly what he’d say to him. It was a folly, he knew, to expect his father to write what he needed to hear. He never had before. The worry that the letter continued to urge Percy home and to be married to any pretty girl - even if it wasn’t Annabeth - kept him from opening it but the hope that that letter contained an apology or a simple, I’m proud of you, my son, kept it in his pocket.

Before he could finally dredge up the courage to see the last thoughts his father directed to him or chuck it over the side and prefer the what if, warm arms wrapped around his waist. A kiss placed on the shell of his ear.

Percy froze for a moment, before the realisation that they were alone on this part of the ship and this late at night made him relax. He let the scent of cloves mingle with the salty sea spray, eyes sliding shut. The comforting weight of his lover and the excitement of being out in the open for anyone to see them, washed over him. 

All too soon, Percy pulled himself out of it. "Do you want to grab a drink?" He asked, letting Apollo step back. 

Apollo nodded, a playful smile playing at the corners of his lips. They maintained a healthy distance between each other as they slowly made their way towards the First Class bar.

As Apollo ordered for them both - a whiskey on the rocks and some soda water - Percy found himself glad he wasn’t going back to the States alone.

“Would you like to visit any of your family whilst we are there?” Apollo asked gently.

“I-,” Percy cut himself off. He wasn’t sure whether he was more irritated or happy at the level of understanding staring back at him.

He was grateful that Apollo stayed silent, waiting for him to collect himself.

“I think seeing Kymopoleia would be a good idea but … I’m not interested in seeing the others if it could be helped,” Percy finally said, taking a sip of the soda water when the waiter passed by with their drinks.

“Okay, we can do that,” Apollo said softly, “I have booked a hotel room in New York itself so we do not have to stay in Montauk the entire time.”

“I’d like that,” Percy admitted.

Eventually they meandered back towards their cabins, two births side by side. If the servants noticed that they had a habit of only sleeping in one each night, they never commented. Percy thought at least one or two of them were just happy to have slightly less work to do when tasked with changing the bedding each morning.

-

Percy wasn’t sure if he found the monotony of being a first class passenger - at Apollo’s insistence - or the fact that they were going to a Christmas party composed entirely of strangers more aggravating.

He’d been finding it difficult fitting in with the majority of the first class passengers on the ship. Normally he wouldn’t have had a problem, simply slipping into his younger self’s persona despite it feeling increasingly like an ill-fitted suit, it was the best he had. Unfortunately, the unconscious comparison to the easy time at the Underwood’s and the reminders of his father every time he looked at one of the old, stern men made him nauseous in a way the gentle rocking of the ship never did. The increasingly irritating need the other guests had to try and drape themselves around Apollo was getting to him. No matter how many times he looked at the bar, he couldn’t bring himself to order anything particularly strong. It felt too much like he’d be losing a battle, he didn’t even know he had been fighting.

So Percy found himself ducking out of the Christmas party early, preferring the darkness of their cabins to the twinkling of an old chandelier and beautiful creatures slowly clawing their way to Apollo’s side. Encircling him and leaving Percy in the cold, no matter how hard the pair tried to stick together.

Percy stopped just outside of their births. One next to the other just as they should be. For one irrational moment, Percy worried about whether the past nine plus months had been a dream. Maybe it would be shattered by a pretty young woman draped in diamonds.

He caught sight of himself in the window of one of the doors: dishevelled, dark purple eye bags making him look positively ghoulish. It didn’t surprise him, the closer to the States he got the worse his sleep had been. Every time his head hit the pillow he either found himself staring at the ceiling for hours, restless and walking along the railing of the ship or falling into a fitful sleep plagued by nightmares. Too many bad memories had slowly turned his birthplace and everything in it into Hell on Earth.

Anxiety crept in, slowly and then all at once until he felt like he was choking on air. Why would Apollo want him when he could have anyone?

Would Apollo stay if even a tenth of the nightmarish fantasies from his dreams came to pass?

Before more than a couple ragged breaths could squeeze their way out of his body, a warm cream scarf was wrapped around him. The scarf was quickly followed by warmer arms and the ticklish breath of air gently brushed against the shell of his ear.

“My apologies, I only realised you had completely left the party a couple of minutes ago. What are you still doing outside? You’ll catch your death,” Apollo said, voice low enough to make Percy shiver.

Instead of moving or answering Apollo’s actual question, Percy turned to face Apollo. His hands came up to rest against the nape of his neck. Rough fingers played with the thick silky curls. “Why me?”

“Why you what?” Apollo frowned down at him.

“Out of everyone, why me? You could have had your choice in London or in the West Country… you could have had your pick tonight and yet you chose me. You… keep… choosing me?” Percy was hoping that Apollo would pass off his blush as a product of the cold and the wind.

“You’re beautiful, you initially intrigued me. Every face you show me I adore. Watching you work was enchanting and then spending time with you? Talking to you… I- I feel comfortable with you. There aren’t many people that make me feel as if I can be myself, good and bad and everything in between,” Apollo murmured, lips dangerously close considering how little either man cared about their surroundings at that moment, “I hope I can bring you even an ounce of the peace and comfort I feel when I’m with you.”

Percy blinked rapidly. His eyes stung as a shaky smile stretched across his lips.

“Let’s go to bed?” Apollo suggested quietly, eyes practically glowing.

Percy found himself swaying softly, a little too tired and a little too happy at Apollo’s speech to do more than let himself be tugged into technically his own cabin. For the first night in a long time, Percy slept soundly until morning.

-

Percy wasn’t lucky. He knew this just like he knew his name, or that the Earth circled the Sun. But knowing it didn’t make it any easier when he saw an all too familiar face staring back at him when they disembarked.

He tried to pretend he didn’t see the other man, turning away from the crowd and back towards Apollo.

That was a mistake.

Apollo looked as regal and elegant as ever. A debonair modern god, with Percy’s favourite pashmina thrown around his neck and dark leather gloves on. The sunlight made his dusty curls glow and the frames of his glasses twinkle.

Well, he looked regal and elegant until he tripped the last two paces down the gangway.

Percy caught him before anyone else could react, but he was aware his shoulders were shaking and his face was rapidly turning red as he tried not to let a single sound out.

Apollo looked surprised, then offended by Percy’s clear amusement. “Perseus,” he whined, going red.

“So you two know each other then?” A deep voice called from behind Percy.

It felt like his head had suddenly been filled with static. Every muscle in Percy’s body tensed. His heart ached. Why? Why now?

“Hello, yes, we’re travelling together,” Apollo said with little hesitation.

Percy could see the confusion on Apollo’s face as he glanced between Percy’s tense shoulders and the newcomer who’d separated from the rest of the crowd. It occurred to Percy at that moment that he never did describe what Jason looked like.

“And you are?” Apollo drawled, guiding their little group away from the other passengers trying to get off the boat.

“An old friend of Percy’s. I- Percy? Your sister mentioned you were coming home and I wanted to … talk," Jason said.

If I don’t turn around, Percy thought, then I won’t fall to pieces. It’ll just be Apollo and Piper and Mrs O’Leary and I in a house that feels like a fairytale.

But Percy swallowed tears and the colliding waves of emotion and turned. Stepping slightly closer to Apollo than was probably socially acceptable in the light of day before nodding, “Thank you for meeting us. But I’m not sure after so many years what there’s to talk about Jason?”

Jason’s eyes bore into Percy’s and for a moment those icy blue eyes darkened. When they cleared he shifted and looked at Apollo.

Percy winced as he realised he had a type.

Blonde.

Glasses.

Blue eyes.

Fuck.

“Maybe we should go somewhere private?” Percy sighed when nobody moved or said anything for long enough that people in the crowd and the other passengers had started looking their way.

"Lets," Apollo and Jason said at the same time. The same stony expression in place.

Percy sighed, this was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

Percy was nervous. Apollo had suggested he should go ahead to the hotel with the luggage and allow Percy to speak to Jason alone. Despite agreeing, he felt like he was drowning as he watched his fallen god walk toward a taxi.

Percy glanced over at Jason. He jumped in surprise at how close the other man was. It surprised him just how uncomfortable it made him. Old memories dislodged themselves, demanding to be looked at. He desperately wanted to ask what was going through his head. Why was Jason here? 

Percy glanced back to see the taxi disappear around the corner. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, heart heavy. For the first time since Spring, he felt cold.

They ended up at Kym's home since it was the closest thing to Neutral Ground that they had. Although Percy was unsure of that when he eventually acknowledged the thought repeating itself in his mind: Kym had told Jason about the trip. She was the only one who knew.

He would be lying if he said that seeing her house towering above him did not fill him with equal parts nausea and longing. He wanted to run away and run up to the door. He felt like he had just come home from a school year and raced to see the only kind face since his mother passed. And like he had lived entire lifetimes away from this city, this world, and he barely recognised it.

Percy swallowed his nerves and raised his hand to the door knocker.

Jason was faster. He stepped up to the door and pulled out a key.

Percy thought he saw the flash of a wedding band on Jason’s hand.

Percy raised an eyebrow as he watched the other man open the door. The sense that he needed to talk to Kym and find out what had happened since that fateful summer increased by the second. A maid, whom Percy did not recognise, rushed to the door. She had bright copper hair, pulled back to look less windburnt and wild, but dark fingerprints - probably from working in the kitchen - on her apron unravelled the effect.

“Welcome home, sir. Did everything go alr-?” She cut herself off. Her mouth closed with an audible click when she spotted Percy behind him.

“Not quite, Rachel,” Jason sounded a little lost.

Percy’s heart squeezed unpleasantly in his chest.

When they were younger, Jason was never at a loss or, at least, always managed to appear put together. Maybe Percy merely chose to remember him that way. The more he stared at the cold beauty of his first love, the more he doubted how he thought about him on the increasingly rare occasion Jason crossed his mind.

“Is Kym in?” Percy asked, “I haven’t seen my sister in a long time.”

“She is, sir. In the breakfast room.” Rachel’s words were stilted but she nodded, all the same, taking his coat and gloves to stow in the cupboard next to the door.

As Rachel disappeared, Percy could feel Jason’s gaze on him. He turned to see more questions than answers. But Percy knew what that tightness of Jason's mouth meant. He knew what those slightly narrowed eyes meant. 

At least that hasn't changed, he thought.

“Look, I thought having someone who knows both of us, and knows about… what happened would be good,” Percy said, “I don’t want to shout.”  God, did he not. He had thought if they had ever seen each other again, he would be angry. He imagined he would scream and punch him. He wondered what he had seen in him. Find fault, even where he had once only found perfection. Instead, he wanted to cry, curl up with Apollo and pretend the world didn’t exist.

“Right,” Jason said, he gave away nothing. “Follow me.”

They fell into an awkward silence as Percy followed Jason. It felt strange, the wrong way around. Percy had been at Kym’s housewarming party and had used it as a respite when his stepmother's disdain became overwhelming. But Percy spotted little trinkets that he knew had once been in Jason’s bedroom on mantelpieces. Jason's steps were sure as he moved through the home.

Eventually, they ended up in the breakfast room.

Kym looked like a whirlwind, from her jacket haphazardly thrown over the chair to yesterday's makeup. She steadily ignored the newspaper in favour of her book. She did not look up as she said, “Brother, Jason.”

“You didn’t mention he had company,” Jason said, sitting down hard enough that Kym glanced away from her book in warning.

“He didn’t mention he had company.”

“He has a name,” Percy huffed, “What’s going on?”

Kym put her book down slowly. She readjusted herself in her chair so that she was facing them. 

Percy felt a pang at the motion that their Father used to do too. It put Percy on high alert as Poseidon only did that when he was getting ready to be serious.

“Percy, can you sit down?” Kym asked, she waved her left hand and Percy’s eyes caught on a ring.

Percy glanced at Jason. For the first time, he saw the mask slip completely. He looked heartbroken, which confused Percy more than anything. 

"Percy," Kym prompted after a moment where nobody moved.

He sat gingerly.

“Now, I know both of you are hu-” Kym started.

“You never responded to my letters,” Jason interrupted.

“What letters?” Percy’s eyes snapped up. He was surprised at how calm he sounded. He felt anything but calm.

Jason and Kym exchanged looks, both tense. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath and waiting for anyone else to start. Percy swore he could hear Rachel pottering about a couple of rooms over.

“Jason, please, what letters?” Percy said, desperation slowly leaking into his words until they practically dripped with it.

Jason looked so vulnerable, his neck disappearing into his shoulders. The mask had slipped entirely. Percy’s breath caught at the pain in those icy blue eyes he had once loved above all others.

“Percy,” Jason’s voice broke. “I sent you letters, or at least tried to, from the minute you were sent away until it became clear that you … weren’t coming home.”

"What." It wasn't a question.

-

Apollo managed to get to the hotel in one piece physically. Mentally he was hanging on by a thread. A single fraying thread. He had thought New York would be hard for Percy, that it would be unpleasant to watch him struggle. He had not considered Percy's ghosts appearing on the dock. Especially the one ghost that had sounded entirely disinterested in him from what Percy had previously said.

He liked to think he was handsome and charismatic. But standing next to someone who looked like he could be his younger brother was disconcerting. The fact that that younger brother also shared history with Percy was terrifying.

As he entered the luxurious hotel bathroom to wash his face and hands, he tried to dismiss the thoughts that swirled around his mind. The unhelpful reminder that Jason had stood a little too close to Percy when they had seen Apollo off in a taxi. The broken glint in Percy’s eyes when he spotted Jason. 

He had a horrible feeling that whatever Percy and Jason had to discuss would have repercussions. Despite that, he went about the hotel room - and then the hotel bar - as he tried to shake that heavy feeling weighing him down. 

Apollo tried to remember that this holiday was always going to be difficult. That his job was to support Percy - and get a glimpse into the world his beloved came from - not to drink himself half to death. 

Eventually, logic won out. Apollo sighed, returning to their room with only three gin and tonics sloshing away in him. 

If Percy was in a terrible state, the last thing Apollo wanted was to be drunk and hidden away.

It turned out he probably could have had a fifth or a sixth before Percy reappeared.

Apollo stood the moment the key jingled in the lock. He let the book he was skimming through tumble onto the bed. He tried for the serene, untouchable look but the way his hands fluttered from his trouser pockets too, the hem of his jumper then to fix his hair was telling. The visage shattered when the door swung open to Percy looking closer to a corpse than a person.

Apollo barely had time to step towards him before Percy rushed forward. Six feet of muscle, a terrible wool jumper and sea salt collided with him. Maybe it was the alcohol or that Apollo was getting old, but he lost his balance. Regardless, Apollo swayed and groaned before the pair ended up back on the bed.

“Perc-,” Apollo trailed off when he realised his collar was wet.

Percy was crying. A little piece of his heart chipped off at the realisation.

“Beloved, it’s alright," Apollo tried again. "You’re here now. You’re safe. Cou- When you’re ready, if you feel comfortable, please tell me what happened?”

It wasn't immediate - then again, he hadn’t expected it to be - but slowly, painfully slowly, Percy’s shoulders relaxed. The tears dried up. Percy just let out a ragged breath after ragged breath.

“He… had tried to contact me for years,” Percy eventually mumbled into the sodden collar.

Apollo was a little at a loss. Even without the thought spiral, he teetered on the edge of, he didn't know how to approach this. He knew Percy's worldview had just flipped on its head. What can he say to that? What would even begin to help anchor him?

“I’m so sorry Percy,” Apollo settled on. It seemed like the only thing that could be said.

“His family tried to get in his way. My father’s family stone-walled him and made him run around in circles. Kym… gave him a solution that benefited both of them…" Percy drifted off. The words died on his tongue.

Apollo squeezed him tighter. In the futile attempt to keep him close. Make him stay. He kept circling back to the lack of answers. He didn't even know if he wanted answers. 

The thought of losing Percy terrified him in a way little had since the slow realisation that Thamyris would never come home.

If Percy had gotten the letters, would they be together now? What if Percy had gotten even one of those letters before Apollo asked him to move in?

A soft snore interrupted his thoughts.

Percy had fallen asleep in his arms.

“Goodnight” Apollo whispered and dearly hoped this wasn’t goodbye.

-

The whole holiday fell under a cloud, literally and metaphorically. The weather was unrelenting. The snow made it borderline impossible to get to Montauk for New Year's Eve.

Percy had barely spoken since coming back from his conversation with Jason. Apollo simultaneously wanted to pull him apart, pry all the details out of Percy’s pretty little head, and never be reminded of their first day in New York again. He felt like he was holding his breath and waiting for Percy to send him back to the UK without him, waiting for his fears to be realised.

The beautiful beachfront home did not help. It was a monument to the roaring 20s thrown into stark relief by the almost black sky and the rays of winter sun spearing the ground. 

The violent sea churned behind their backs. The waves crashed against the rocks in a rage. 

Apollo stared in awe. This felt like they had arrived on a horror movie set. Apollo loved everything about it.

But when he turned away from the sculptures and architecture and looked at Percy’s ashen face, he felt a completely irrational hatred towards the entire estate. His fingers twitched as he felt unsure of himself. He didn't know if he should wrap Percy up in his arms or give him space. He did know that he hated that. Back home, he knew that Percy would appreciate a hand on his shoulder, a kind smile, but here? He didn't have a clue. Percy had been so distant lately.

“Percy?” Apollo murmured but the washed-out green gaze stayed fixed on the old door. “Percy, we don’t have to if…” 

Percy jumped when Apollo reached out and gently ran his fingers down his arm.

“I- I’m okay,” Percy said, blushing when Apollo raised his eyebrow. “Sorry. I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“Do not apologise. I was just saying we can take this at your pace. We do not have to do anything you are uncomfortable with,” Apollo slowly, gingerly, reached up and rested his hands on Percy’s hips.

Percy was shaking his messy black hair before Apollo finished his sentence. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Honestly, I think if I don’t do this now, I don’t think I’ll be doing it at all.”

Apollo nodded, his face schooled into something he hoped translated to seriousness. He stepped aside to let Percy take the lead. As much as he liked to coddle Percy, wrap him up in blankets and never let anyone or anything hurt him, standing in his way would only do more damage.

The walk up to the house was slow going.

The creak as the front door swung open was ominous. It felt colder indoors than out as they stepped over the threshold. 

They wandered their way through the draughty summer house. Percy jumped every time the wind picked up and the trees outside knocked against the windows. Apollo's nose twitched; heavy white sheets covered everything, which, in turn, were covered in a thick layer of dust. It felt like it was a mausoleum. It was clear it hadn't been looked after in a long time, which made Apollo wish he could see this place on a hazy summer day without a cloud in the sky with a summer party in full swing.

“Percy?” Apollo called, having lost sight of him on the second floor. He rounded the corner and spotted him, holding an old dress up. The deep blue flapper dress glittered in the weak light.

“This was my mother’s,” Percy said, glancing away from the dress for only a moment. “My stepmother had hired her as a maid and picked her to come to the summer house that year. I still don’t know if she was hoping my mother would keep Father entertained or if she thought he wouldn’t go for her. Either way, he… he spotted her one day in the garden and one thing led to another and … here I am.”

Apollo slowly crossed the space between them until he hovered by Percy’s shoulder, he hoped against hope that his proximity would help Percy. 

His heart bled as he took in the wistful look on the younger man's face. He had no words, no way to relate. His mother was many things but she was still alive. He had seen his own Father have countless affairs and the countless arguments that followed. But he had never stopped to think about what that would look like from the love child’s perspective.

“How long were they…?” Apollo scrambled for something to say.

“Mama always said just the summer but I think it must have been a little murkier than that because I was born in August,” Percy said, thumbs trailing along the neckline.

“That… would not be entirely unusual. What was she like?”

“Wonderful,” Percy said simply, placing the dress back in the cupboard, “She was determined and stubborn. She always tried to make things better for us… keep us together at least. I… know looking back we were struggling but when my horrendous ex-stepfather wasn’t around and I wasn’t at boarding school, it was perfect.”

Apollo pulled Percy close when he noticed his eyes begin to flutter. He rocked him to the sound of the waves as he lost himself in thought. He ignored how wet his sweater was getting. Apollo knew she was a painful subject despite Percy barely mentioning his mother. Everything about this country seemed to be a sensitive subject.

The chip in his heart widened into a gaping maw at the first whimper and the feeling of Percy’s fingers gripping the back of this jacket.

“We can stay in a local hotel rather than here for the night if you prefer?” Apollo murmured into dark curls. He missed how Percy normally smelt, the hotel shampoo didn’t do him justice. It wasn't his Percy.

“No, no, here is okay. We’ve spent enough already,” Percy mumbled.

“I don’t care about the-”

“Apollo, it’s fine. I promise. Just… Can we sleep in one of the guest rooms? The master bedroom was always fathers,” Percy said.

Apollo mourned the loss of Percy’s warmth as the younger man stepped away and led them away from the family wing.

“This looks like somewhere the Great Gatsby would be set,” Apollo observed as they wandered through the labyrinth of a home.

“Or a horror story,” Percy grumbled.

“Percy…”

“I swear, someone thought there was a ghost in the gardens," Percy stated, his face carefully blank.

"You are going to make me sleep here, overnight, after that?" Apollo felt the corners of his mouth twitch up against his will.

“Of course,” Percy smirked.

Apollo smiled despite himself. It was the first time he saw his Percy in far too long. Hope warmed him from the inside out for the first time since the docks.

For the first time in almost a week, he thought that the voice dripping with poison in his mind was wrong. Maybe Percy wasn't going to disappear in a puff of smoke.

The guest room was in a draughty part of the house. The sheet covering the bed was covered in dust like everything else. But, at least, the wind wasn't repeatedly forcing tree branches into the windowpane.

"I need to sell this place," Percy muttered as he pulled the white sheet off of the bed. His nose wrinkled in an effort not to sneeze.

Apollo thought he looked beautiful. The tired eyes and tightness around the corners of his mouth just endeared him to Apollo more.

"We will find someone to organise the sale before we leave," Apollo smiled.

His brow furrowed as Percy tensed.

"You still want me to come home with you?" Percy all but whispered.

"Of course," Apollo said. 

At his words Percy deflated, collapsing onto the bed. He reminded Apollo of a marionette that just had its strings cut.

Apollo started to rush forward when he saw Percy's watery smile. He slowed his approach. 

He crouched in between Percy's legs and ignored the disgustingly dusty sheet on the floor beneath him. He needed Percy to look at his face. He needed the next words to get through Percy's wall of self-doubt.

"Percy? Baby? Look at me. I love you. I love you. You have to do a lot worse than this trip. You didn't plan for Jason to be at the dock," Apollo didn't stop when Percy flinched at the mention of Jason but he did start massaging his thumb along Percy's thigh. "You aren't responsible for the weather. You are here to sort out the disaster your Father left you and I am here, willingly, to support you."

Percy nodded slowly. Apollo hoped something went through because the cloudy look in Percy's eyes was concerning.

Apollo crawled up to join him on the bed. He almost laughed when he realised the habit they had formed since September.

"All the conversations where I end up crying happen in bed," Percy snorted.

"You aren't crying yet," Apollo said gently. He started to rack his fingers through Percy's curls in comfort.

Percy laughed but it came out as a sob. 

Fuck, Apollo jumped. Percy was so raw here like a wire stripped down to just the copper. Anything that could hurt him did. It was so jarring after getting to know him and the Underwoods, where he felt safe.

Apollo shushed him. "Percy, you just need to say the word and we'll be on the first ship home. Hell, we will be on the first plane home if you prefer."

"Not a fan of planes," Percy mumbled, avoiding the issue.

Apollo lifted Percy's chin until green eyes met blue. "Say the word and we will go home."

-

They returned to New York after one of the most uncomfortable nights either of them had had since VE Day. Apollo was exhausted, he had spent the entire night focused on the knock, knock, knock of the branches against the windows. The whining and banging of the hot water pipes when they finally located the boiler hadn't helped.

He was relieved Percy didn't want to stay. The hotel room may not have been as comfortable as his home but they could at least sleep.

He glanced over at Percy in the back of the taxi. He seemed different like he'd remembered who he was. That he wasn't trapped here. They had a home together in a little corner of England. This whole trip was tying up loose ends. Saying goodbye where necessary.

Two days after they returned, Percy woke him up. His eyes were firey and the smirk dancing along his lips screamed danger. 

Apollo had never been more attracted to him.

Now Apollo found himself trailing behind Percy as he marched through a tennis club towards four people playing mixed doubles. He thought he recognised Kym from an old photo Percy had shown him amongst the players.

If Apollo was being honest, didn’t know what to make of Kymopoleia. But he did decide as they walked across the tennis club grounds that he should never make her angry. That looked like a lethal backhand.

He tried to stay as close to Percy as he could without making the other man uncomfortable. He didn’t care what the club members thought at the end of the day but he did care - probably too much - what Percy thought of him.

“Sister,” Percy called from next to the umpire chair.

“What are you doing here?” A man hissed as the ball hit the net.

Kym was playing mixed doubles and her teammate who looked like an older, male version of her with a five o’clock shadow was glaring directly at Percy. 

Apollo shot the older man an equally sharp glare and shifted to be more obviously behind Percy. The two made eye contact above Percy’s head. The open disgust made Apollo raise an eyebrow, so this is why Percy preferred his little country life on the other side of the Atlantic.

“Triton,” Percy nodded, ignoring the look. “I was wondering if we could all talk? You know, like civilised people?”

“You-” Triton started with a snort.

“Because we do have an audience here, older brother,” Percy continued. His smile stretched across his lips, looking a little too sharp.

“At mine?” Kym asked, putting her racket away. Nodding at the other pair who was watching like this was the most interesting thing they’d seen all year.

“Yes, that sounds like an excellent i-”

“No, I think at our old family home,” Percy interrupted again, “Or wherever Jason’s letters have ended up?”

Apollo tensed. He knew it was coming, Percy and he had discussed it before coming over, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Both siblings looked at each other and then looked at Percy. Apollo wished he wasn’t standing behind him because whatever they saw was enough to make both siblings visibly change their minds.

It was possibly the most awkward drive of Apollo’s life and that included his Father trying to have a heart-to-heart after he lost Thamyris. Triton was busy pretending nobody else was in the car. Apollo was watching everyone in the car whilst Percy stared straight ahead. Kym was watching Percy like he was an unknown quantity. And maybe, at the moment, he was.

Apollo schooled his features just in time for the sight of their mansion. It was… excessive.

The dance with the servants and benign pleasantries was familiar. Soon he found himself following the three siblings into a large study with a collection of well-worn armchairs. He noted that none of the siblings sat down, all shifting awkwardly and it suddenly dawned on him that this was probably Percy’s father’s study.

That explained why it smelt like it needed airing out.

“Does he really need to be here?” Triton finally spoke, arms folded as he glared at Apollo.

“Yes, he’s currently the only reason I’m being reasonable,” Percy answered dismissively. His tone took Apollo by surprise, Percy was many things but he had never been dismissive of anyone even Flora when she was fussing over seemingly nothing.

“Reasonable?!” Triton squawked, “How was making a public spectacle reasonable?”

“It’s more reasonable than going straight to the papers. Father did an amazing job at keeping Jason and I out of the press,” Percy shrugged. He wasn't looking at his brother, instead, he watched his fingers dance along the side of the old mahogany desk. “Anyway, that’s not important now. I will leave and I have no intention of coming back so long as I get the letters and … anything else you’re withholding.”

Apollo watched Triton and Kym. Neither seemed happy but Apollo suspected it was for entirely different reasons.

“Percy don’t you think you shouldn’t cut us-,” Kym started.

“You didn’t tell me on that day Jason and I talked, but why didn’t you tell me Jason was trying to get in contact? You didn't even mention I had a brother-in-law, let alone who that brother-in-law was,” Percy asked, levelling a cold look at his older sister.

Kym physically flinched. Percy blinked then looked back towards his brother.

Apollo had to focus on remembering to breathe. His head spun, had Percy just insinuated that Jason and Kym were married? He wanted to return to Devon. This was all a mistake.

Triton didn’t say anything, simply went to a little trinket box in one corner. He didn’t open it, just turned and crossed the office to hand them over to Percy.

“Goodbye, Perseus,” Triton grumbled, before brushing passed him and leaving the trio alone.

“Percy, please -” Kym started.

“Apollo, can we go home now? I don’t think there’s anything else for me here,” Percy interrupted. He didn’t give Apollo much time to argue as he shot back out into the foyer.

Trying to get anything out of Percy in regards to the brother-in-law comment was like trying to get blood out of a stone, so Apollo focused instead on organising their departure from New York. He knew that Percy would tell him eventually. Hopefully, they'll never return again. After the majority of their last day had passed, Apollo had managed to convince himself that Percy wasn’t going to stay behind after he'd burnt his bridges with his siblings.

They spent most of their final evening curled up in bed. Neither wanted to explore the city or make any last-minute goodbyes. That was until Percy slipped out of his hold and padded towards the bathroom. 

Apollo let his eyes linger on the blue robe slowly sliding off Percy's right shoulder, revealing the smooth skin beneath.

"Do you want to order room service?" Apollo asked as he watched Percy fiddle with the comforter on the bed.

"Yes," Percy turned. He finally dragged his eyes up to meet Apollo's gaze fully for the first time since they left his late Father's home. "Please."

"Anything in particular?"

Percy shook his head before disappearing behind the door.

As the switchboard operator answered the phone, Apollo thought he heard a tap splutter to life. It - and the mental image of Percy naked in the bathtub - distracted him enough that he entirely missed what the older lady on the phone said.

"Hello," Apollo smiled, "Could you please connect me to the front desk? Thank you."

"Of course, sir, one moment."

Apollo swore blind he could hear the crackle of electricity when he was switched over. But quickly dismissed the thought as the concierge he had met when entirely too raw to be around anybody on the first day answered the phone.

He sighed as he ran through food options. The only thing he knew for sure was that this was at least a one-bottle-of-wine night if not three. A celebration that they had survived the worst of it - at least what he hoped was the worst.

-

“You didn’t need to do this Percy,” Apollo said as he looked at their hotel bathroom. The food had been and gone when Percy had pulled him into the bathroom.

Apollo should have known something was going on when Percy had emerged for food bone dry.

As it was, the candles smelled heavenly, or maybe that was the bubble bath. It’s hard to tell. The sound of the street below was muffled, making them seem safe, like the shadows that doggedly followed them had been simply a bad dream. 

And in the centre of this, his lover looked adorable in his blue dressing gown and holding two flutes of champagne. Where he'd been hiding the bottle, Apollo wasn't entirely sure.

“It’s been a difficult few weeks and I’m so proud of you. This trip is about you my love, not -”

“It has been,” Percy agreed, holding one of the flutes out to Apollo. “And this, this is a thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you. It’s been harder than I think either of us thought it would be, what with J- Jason and the letters, my siblings… everything. So, this is about you, my love.” Percy’s newly freed hand clasped Apollo’s free one, the smile on Percy’s face was soft. It coaxed Apollo, teased. He’d follow that look anywhere.

Anywhere turned into stripping, drinking half a bottle of champagne and slipping into the clawfoot bathtub in their en suite bathroom. A little of the soap water sloshed out as he sank into it. They were both a little drunk, a little loose. It was the first time since they landed on shore that Apollo thought they were entirely on the same page.

He almost moaned as Percy’s fingers began to dig into his shoulders.

"You have me, you know that right," Percy murmured, hands moving to run firm fingers through thick sandy curls. "I don't say it enough, I know, but… I've been yours since we first met. Tell me you know this."

Apollo stared at the wall opposite, fighting the soothing feeling of Percy's fingers slowly massaging shampoo into his hair; this felt too important to give in to the buzz under his skin.

“What can I do to make you believe me?” Percy murmured, pressing a kiss to Apollo’s temple as he slowly started to rinse the soap out.

“Just stay with me,” Apollo whispered. It was barely above a breath.

Chapter Text

It had snowed when they left. By the time they got back, it was too cold even for that. The snow that hadn't been shovelled aside had melted and reformed into ice. Icicles dripped from the skeletal trees and coated the footpaths and lanes. The wind howled whenever their slow progress through the countryside ground to a complete halt.

Percy wished to be back at sea. Even with the choppy waters and harsh sea spray. Even when Apollo seemed hesitant to follow him. Hesitant to assume he was welcome in his cabin on the ship. 

Something had shifted between them and it terrified Percy. 

He found himself waiting for Apollo to do something despite Apollo not giving him the cold shoulder. Apollo was just as attentive as before but he seemed to constantly ask for permission. They felt fragile in a way they hadn't in months.

Their car jumped and stalled bringing Percy, roughly, back to the present. They were still several hours from the house and the village, and the road ahead looked nearly impassable.

"We're going to have to walk," Percy groused, frowning at the soft top above him. 

"In this weather, we will freeze before we get there," Apollo argued, squinting through the window. Cold blue eyes widened before Apollo absentmindedly murmured, "I think we're near …"

Apollo trailed, opening the door and stepping out. 

Percy's eyes lingered momentarily on the way Apollo's clothes hugged him. The way one side of his scarf trailed. His chest squeezed painfully as words escaped him. He sighed.

Apollo was already grabbing the suitcases from the boot when Percy finally got out of the car. 

Golden locks headed towards what might have been a lane off to the left of the road pre-iced-over snowfall as Percy grabbed the last duffel bag. It was his attempt to feel useful as his mind tried to scramble for meanings in Apollo's actions. 

He froze momentarily when he realised what he was doing. It reminded him of an old neighbour of his, Miss Circe, who used to divine futures from tea leaves. He shook his head before following Apollo's surprisingly assured steps through the hard-packed snow.

Less than a mile from the road they stumbled onto an old stone wall. The garden beyond it was filled with trees and bushes weighted down with ice and snow. The glow from a window peeked through the tangled mass of tree limbs, hinting that someone might actually be in.

Percy wondered whether they'd be able to call for help from a mechanic anytime soon. They'd need to hassle Mr Rogers from two villages over and he was a grumpy old git ever since Piper insisted on keeping her Father's motorcycle back in October. Maybe some of the villagers could help them clear the path a little more?

In silence, they work their way to the gate at the bottom of the garden and then to the cottage door beyond.

Percy had to purposely smooth over his face as watching Apollo slip in front and then pull out a key he'd never noticed on his keychain before brought back painful memories. New York was too recent for him to completely discard the nagging, heavy feeling.

But then the door swung open and Apollo looked back at him. Warmer eyes, thick curls and a ghost of a smile pull him back from the brink. 

He's in the West Country, with Apollo, slowly freezing to death. It's not perfect. Maybe it never will be but it's not New York, surrounded by his relatives. So, he’ll take it.

Percy nodded, sending Apollo a small smile of his own and shuffled forward.

Apollo got the message and fully entered the cottage so Percy wasn't trapped on the wrong side of the threshold.

Percy was tense Apollo had a key to this wild little stone cottage and he hadn't known about it. The worry was irrational, but Percy was tired. His mind was in overdrive. He feared turning the corner to meet a wife and three children. He feared turning the corner to meet a shrine to Thamyris or some complicated family secret that Percy would have to shoulder when he was slowly being crushed under the weight of his own.

So, he was more than a little surprised when he turned and came face to face with the fifty-year-old, female version of Apollo. Her hair was wrapped up in a silk scarf with only a couple of pieces hanging down to frame her face, and her dress was hidden under a blanket for the most part as she stood near a roaring fire. She was brandishing the poker.

Her face smoothed out when her gaze landed on Apollo and the sharp point of the fire poker dropped. She didn't let it go.

"I thought I told you to visit before Christmas?" She said, her voice was soft but her gaze was sharp with disapproval.

"Mama, I'm sorry," Apollo all but whined, "I - A family trip came up."

"A family trip?"

"I ... Mama, this is Percy. We went to resolve some issues regarding his father's will," Apollo put down the suitcases he was holding and pulled a stunned Percy towards him. Apollo's warm arm was like an anchor around Percy's waist.

Percy tried not to wince. It made sense that this was Apollo's mother but his worry now exploded. He tried to hide the shaking in his hands.

“Hello sweetheart, I’m Leto,” Female Apollo smiled, the poker now long forgotten as she crossed the living room. 

“Pleased to meet you,” Percy practically squeaked. He fought the blush threatening to turn his ears pink; he's fought in a war for god sake and yet this makes him nervous?

Leto smiled indulgently as her handshake almost broke Percy’s scaphoid. Her smile dropped rapidly though, and she looked down at Percy’s hand. “You’re freezing. Come in, in , don’t just loiter.” 

She all but steered Percy towards the fireplace.

“Apollo, darling, could you please get blankets from your bedroom?” Leto called over her shoulder as she got Percy settled into one of the winged armchairs nearest the fire. “Percy? Tea?”

Percy nodded, eyes wide. He didn’t have it in him to say he still thought it tasted dreadful.

And as quickly as Leto had led him across the room and into the worn chair, she had disappeared behind him and through a door he hadn’t noticed beforehand. 

Apollo returned first with multiple colourful crocheted blankets.

“Blue or green?” Apollo murmured as he removed his own shoes and winced at the rough, wet feeling of his defrosting socks.

“Blue please,” Percy responded, still stunned.

Apollo gave him a hard look before organising himself and the blankets to put the blue one around Percy’s shoulders. He dropped to one knee and Percy’s brain short-circuited at the sight of Apollo on his knees.

Percy mentally kicked himself. Cursed his emotions shuttling from one extreme to the other as his eyes stung at the sight of Apollo gently removing his shoes, and then socks.

Strong hands, massaged the feeling back into them as Apollo looked up at him. “I’m sorry for not warning you. I just wanted to get us safe and warm before we froze.”

The space between them felt a little smaller, or maybe simply a little murkier, Percy wasn't sure.

“I forgive you. But, can we talk about this later?” Percy asked, mindful of the sound of tea cups being arranged on a tray one room over. He offered Apollo a small smile that he hoped got the message across that he wasn’t furious. Lost? Yes. Angry? No.

-

Percy was tense for most of the dinner, keenly aware of every brush against Apollo. Every accidental nudge and swipe. He was also aware of Leto’s eyes following him even when Apollo was regaling her with how the Halloween party went all those months ago.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t have been there,” Leto sighed, her smile turned mischievous, “I would have been able to meet Percy sooner.”

Apollo blushed bright pink - a boon from the sun disappearing for weeks on end - except Percy didn’t get to enjoy the sight. Leto’s timing had been perfect; Percy coughed and wheezed as his soup caught the back of his throat.

“Oh God, Percy,” Apollo snapped out of his embarrassment, standing to soothe Percy’s back.

Percy couldn’t get out a thank you but he was eternally grateful Apollo didn’t try hitting his back. His chest and throat ached enough as it was.

“Sorry dear, here,” Leto murmured, placing a glass of water in front of him.

Percy sent her a grateful smile as he took the glass.

“I’m sure Apollo’s siblings were enough to handle for one night,” Leto smirked, “Still it would have been nice.”

“Yes, I hope you weren’t unwell,” Percy rasped out between gulps. He was raised with some manners.

“Just a migraine, nothing fatal,” Leto waved her hand.

“Maybe we should retire?” Apollo suggested, He hadn’t stepped back even after Percy had relaxed.

Percy glanced up to see Apollo’s brows drawn in worry.

“That sounds like a good idea, the spare bedroom should be ready for you. If it isn’t, well, Apollo you know where the linens are kept,” Leto agreed.

-

“You know,” Leto’s voice carried on the wind, “I don’t think I’ve seen my son this happy in a long time. You two look good together.”

Percy glanced over his shoulder, Leto was haloed by the lights in the hallway. He was standing outside under one of the trees, he hadn’t been able to sleep and decided to go for a walk. That was until he realised it was too dark and too cold, so stopped five paces away from the front door.

The temperature outside was rapidly dropping as midnight approached but he couldn’t find it in himself to move. Maybe if he stayed out here for long enough he’d come to a decision or a decision about what he was deciding on at least so he could get some rest.

Leto frowned, at least Percy thought she was frowning. The hallway backlighting her made it difficult to tell.

She stepped forward until she was leaning over Percy. A gentle hand cupped his cheek, tilting his head until their eyes met. “Percy?”

Maybe it was her tone of voice or gentleness. Maybe it was the way she didn’t bat an eye when Apollo had held him or only set up one bedroom for the both of them. Or maybe it was because she reminded him of his Mom in a way. But Percy found himself opening up.

“New York was difficult,” He admitted, “My family are not the most … supportive.” The words felt strange like they weren't the correct shape or sound, he never really spoke of this so bluntly. Only Apollo knew and even then…

Percy glanced away, trying to hide how much he left unsaid. It did really come down to them being unsupportive, it always comes back to that but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting.

“Ah,” Leto nodded, a sympathetic smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she came to stand next to Percy, no longer blocking the hallway light. “That is difficult. Did they …?”

“It’s… they didn’t do anything that could endanger Apollo, you don’t need to worry ma’am,” Percy shook his head, attempting to reassure her. He didn’t want to go into details; he hadn’t even told Apollo about the finer details.

"Leto please,” She stressed, not unkindly, “I think maybe you both need some sleep and to get back to your normal. It’s not abnormal for holidays, especially those that go horribly wrong, to cause rifts to grow.”

Percy nodded, clinging slightly desperately to her words. It was fine. It would all be fine. This wasn’t anything too concerning.

He repeated it to himself as he bid her goodnight, as he brushed his teeth and as he climbed into bed with Apollo.

He found himself dreaming he was back in the field nearest Grover's. Mrs O'Leary bounded after a stick Percy didn't remember throwing. 

“ I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries, " Apollo began, head tilted up towards the sky. His voice echoed.

"... the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself ,” Percy finished. The words didn't feel right, like this wasn't how it happened but Percy couldn't piece it together. But he did remember … “The note-” 

“The note fell out of your pocket,” Apollo said with a smile, “It took a moment for me to find the original work because I didn’t recognise it. And then I spent an irrational amount of time debating which lines to say to you."

Percy said nothing for a moment too long. Apollo's gaze dropped to meet his and his brow arched, "D-did you mean it for me? I presumed you did but you… don't seem particularly happy."

"I-," Percy started. He stopped lurching forward as the world tilted.

Apollo tumbled away from him, looking hurt and unsure. His blue eyes burned into Percy's mind until Percy registered that the world may still be dark with the impression of pinched blue eyes behind his eyelids but it’s significantly colder.

He opened his eyes to the feeling of Apollo’s thick arms holding him and the blanket half off.

Percy winced realising the mornings in Leto’s cottage were actually freezing - it brought back memories of a tiny, messy apartment from a lifetime ago. It made Percy think being naked and strapped to a ship's mast would have been warmer as he watched Apollo and his breath mingle in the weak light. 

The bedroom was all the colder with the layer of sweat clinging to his skin, that dream had left him shaky. His fingers curled around Apollo’s limp wrist, an anchor reminding him that Apollo hadn’t disappeared and left him alone in a field.

Percy groaned, the fact that it was light at all meant that it was already midmorning and as lovely as Leto’s slice of paradise appeared, he desperately wanted to be home . But that meant moving away from Apollo and the blanket, which were currently acting like a heater and insulation.

Percy had just about managed to get halfway out of bed before a warm hand wrapped around his waist and pulled him back in. 

“Where do you think you are going?” Apollo’s gruff voice gurgled.

Percy wished it soothed him more, “To see if Leto needs help with breakfast. Or if she’s waiting on us for breakfast.”

“You are too kind,” Apollo sounded like he was already falling back to sleep.

Percy snorted, a small smile gracing his face. If only the whole time could feel like this.

The world was still and comfortable for one, two, three more moments before Apollo’s arm slipped away and Percy was free.

Percy cursed as he shoved on an extra pair of socks and rubbed his arms a couple of times. All he managed was to make the palms of his hand feel static as his jumper remained bone cold.

Leto was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she peeled a bowl of potatoes. Her dress was blue today, without the housecoat.

“Ah! So one of you wakes from the dead,” She laughed, “You missed breakfast but I thought I should make an early lunch?”

“Hey, do you need any help?" Percy asked. He refrained from raising an eyebrow that she was doing it, not a maid. He almost asked if she'd had a companion at one point before stopping himself, they were going out of fashion.

"Could you make some tea?" Leto asked after a moment. "I only have two left and I ran out a while ago."

"So… Apollo did tell me a lot about you in his letters but he didn't mention where you're from. Which part of New York?" Leto started to fill the silence as Percy tried his best to replicate the actions he had watched Piper go through over and over again.

"Can you still hear the accent?" Percy asked because the answer to that was complicated, like most things in his life.

"Of course."

"That's good, Ja- someone from back home said I was talking funny. Spent too long with the locals," Percy shrugged, trying to forget impossibly sad icy blue eyes.

Leto paused before laughing loud and clear and bright. She suddenly looked more like Apollo’s sister than his mother. 

That thought gave Percy pause, he thought Apollo had said he wasn’t a love child but this cottage was definitely not the London home that Apollo had mentioned his father occupied. He bit his lip. He couldn’t ask but the question lingered at the edges, maybe he'll speak to Apollo about it later.

“I can definitely say you still sound American,” Leto eventually smirked, “Now, are you going to tell me how you met Apollo?”

“I thought he would have already told you?”

“He has, in great detail as it happened but … he is prone to exaggeration. I think it’s the artistic flair,” Leto chuckled, potatoes and tea were long since forgotten as she leant forward.

“Yeah, I did notice that,” Percy laughed, putting the cup down. As he launched into the story he found himself feeling lighter than before. He hadn’t realised how much not having a parent to talk to about Apollo had gotten to him. Nor how much he just wanted to remember when it was the two of them and Piper and a puppy.

Chapter Text

Apollo woke up fully to an empty bed. He sighed as the faint scent of salt and pine lingered on Percy's side of the bed. It took him a moment to place the bed, the ceiling, the lack of Mrs O'Leary or Piper bounding inside to wake him. But then the memories of the previous day slammed into him and he wasn’t sure what to make of last night.

Percy had been so nervous that entire evening and Apollo had probably been overcompensating. So it came as a surprise when he registered the laughter filtering up through the flooring.

He didn’t stumble down the narrow stairs and barrel into the kitchen. He did come to an abrupt halt at the sight of Percy - head thrown back, Adam’s Apple bobbing as he laughed. 

Apollo softened further when he noticed his Mum's eyes twinkling, a softer smile across her face.

"Looks like I missed something," Apollo spoke up. He skirted around a bucket of potatoes to unearth one of his mother's cups. Tea sounded like a wonderful idea right now.

The quiet behind him made Apollo turn to face the table.

Both Leto and Percy exchanged a look before looking back at him with small smiles.

"What?" Apollo asked, trying not to fidget as he gripped a little China cup.

"Nothing dear. Come. Sit," Leto pulled him over.

Yes, Apollo thought, Not at all concerning.

-

Percy sat outside in the sunlight. The snow was rescinding leaving patches of grass and melting icicles. In the weak sun and his thick jumper Piper had made him pack, Percy didn't wind the wind that picked up to ruffle the branches every so often.

He was curious about Leto and knowing more about Apollo. This detour highlighted how much more Apollo knew about him than he did about Apollo.

“Divorced,” Apollo said in lieu of hello making Percy jump. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Percy said.

“I know, I want you to know,” Apollo stepped off the stone path towards the bench. “Mum was Dad’s first wife, and well Dad isn’t exactly faithful. It was pretty quick between Artemis and I being born and Dad meeting Hera. Hera didn't want to be a mistress, Mum had had enough and, well, Dad was infatuated."

Percy wasn’t sure what to say to that, within the first six months of living in the UK he knew that they had a very different view on divorce to the States.

“So, Leto lives here…” Percy trailed off, not wanting to pry but concerned that this little cottage was more of a prison than home. 

Apollo sat on the narrow bench, throwing his arm behind Percy.

“It’s where she’s happiest and Dad has to maintain it as stipulated by the divorce. London never suited her anyway,” Apollo looked away, eyes tracing a fat robin bouncing from branch to branch. “I can bring you back in a week or so if you like, there are so many bluebells and snowdrops everywhere.”

“I think I’d like that,” Percy smiled, shifting until he could gingerly put his ear to Apollo’s chest. He’d take all the olive branches he could get until they stopped feeling like olive branches.

It could have been hours or minutes later when Leto called them inside for tea. 

Percy looked over as he righted himself and met Apollo’s gaze head-on for the first time in what felt like years rather than a few short weeks. Apollo smiled, feeling warm and content. If it took another two days to get a short distance home, it could take another two days so long as Percy kept looking at him like that.

-

Weeks rolled on and the snow and ice disappeared. Percy finished creating a suitable advert for his replacement and Apollo begrudgingly went back to working in his office for hours on end.

Percy frequently joined Apollo, Mrs O'Leary curled up in his lap. As Apollo worked his way through letter after letter, Percy continued outlining what he wanted for the grounds and jobs the builders in the village could help with.

"Percy?" Piper murmured as she handed over a couple of letters. She tacked on an unnecessary, for you, before moving on to Apollo's familiar cluster of letters.

Percy glanced from the manilla envelopes in his hand and then over at Apollo.

Apollo was carefully trying not to watch him.

Percy opened the letter and two pieces of paper tumbled out. It was from his New York solicitors saying they'd found a buyer and needed him to go to their London office to sign some paperwork.

"Apollo?"

Apollo perked up, as did Mrs O'Leary, he stood and rewrapped his scarf around his neck. 

Percy tried not to smile at the nervous habit. Instead, he handed over the letter in his hand. Something was finally going right since Proteus darkened their door.

As Apollo read through the lawyer's letter, Percy opened the second one. Confused as he wasn't expecting anything - the lawyer's letter was a surprise in and of itself.

Percy regretted opening the letter the moment he recognised the handwriting. Then to make matters worse: he froze. Noticeably.

Mrs O’Leary bounced towards his shoulder, trying to comfort him, as Apollo looked up from the letter with a bright smile.

“What’s wrong? This is great news,” Apollo said, waving the letter in his grasp for a moment before noticing the other letter. “Percy?”

“I didn’t think he’d write,” Percy blurted, instantly regretting saying that of all things.

Apollo’s bright smile faded. “Sorry, who?”

“Apollo -”

“It’s fine, you don’t need to tell me anything,” Apollo rushed to interrupt.

“It’s not-”

“I said, it’s fine,” Apollo stepped back, tense. 

Percy watched as Apollo all but fled the room. Mrs O’Leary jumped down and ran after Apollo. Percy wished he could follow without making things worse.

-

Piper found him in the library that evening. His fingers trailed over the spine of a book he never thought Apollo would stock. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders a little tighter and he ignored how his breath danced in the weak light. 

"Percy?" She asked, for once she was wearing heels so Percy could hear her hesitant approach.

"My mother used to read books like these," Percy said. He didn't know why he was dragging up yet another ghost from the bottom of the swamp known as his life. Maybe it was the long shadows and the February chill tempting secrets out of their hiding places? “I didn’t see the appeal then.”

“They’re good escapism novels,” Piper said, she sounded a little unsure.

Percy wracked his brain for other times when he’d mentioned his mother to Piper and came up blank. He almost laughed that the purest, warmest part of his childhood had stayed hidden the longest.

“They are,” Percy nodded, not looking at Piper. He sighed, wondering when words had become so difficult. He wished it could be summer again, preferably last summer, when things were easier. He pushed the book a little further onto the shelf as if to keep it safe from the outside world, before turning to face Piper.

She looked, in a word, awful. As if she had been dragged backwards through a hedge despite not actually being part of the non-argument. Her shoes were polished, her dress was clean - a different one, Percy wondered if it was new - and her hair was drawn back and neat as a pin but she didn’t look like Piper. She didn’t look wild and happy and carefree. She looked like… well like the member of staff Percy had assumed he’d be meeting all those months ago for an interview at a beautiful airy wealthy man’s playhouse.

“I don’t know what happened, Percy,” Piper started, the corners of her mouth tightening. “And I won’t pretend to nor that I can fully understand…” She took a breath so big, Percy could see her molars, “Having said that, you make him happier than I have ever seen him. And I believe he makes you happy. Not everything is easy, l-love definitely is not. Percy… please, do not lock yourself away and hide until this past year is just a dream.”

“Did he-?”

“No, Apollo,” Piper ignored Percy’s wince, “Did not send me or ask. This is me being your friend.”

Piper had stepped close at this point, her hand was cold when she gripped Percy’s forearm. Her gaze was steady and reassuring. It made Percy feel stronger and steadier than he was.

“Thank you,” He breathed out, feeling like for the first time in years that he knew what he was doing and what he wanted.

-

It took even longer than Percy thought it would to find Apollo. In the entire time they had known each other, Percy would have never predicted that Apollo actually went to the temple in the grounds. Let alone be sitting cross-legged in front of the goddess.

“It was an apology letter,” Percy announced, knowing that if he didn’t get that in the open the likelihood of getting anywhere right now was minimal.

Apollo tensed but made no sound.

“A letter isn’t going to change things,” Percy continued to fill the silence as he closed the distance between them. As he sat down, he realised Mrs O’Leary was curled up in Apollo’s lap, refusing to leave her master’s side.

“I am sorry I just left,” Apollo eventually said. He hadn’t looked away from the smooth marble skin of the goddess. “I was so worried when you left with him at the docks that you would choose him. Not that what we had meant nothing, but that … what you had with him meant more.”

Percy took a deep breath, counting to ten before letting it out. Responding with his gut instinct would most likely result in losing everything they had. “No,” Percy murmured, “I understand your concern, I would probably have been equally worried if a previous love turned up and whisked you somewhere. But, Apollo, I was never going anywhere. I- was more concerned about you leaving me after seeing the mess that's my family… We aren’t perfect but I was happy. You supported me when I needed you even when that meant taking you away from here.”

Apollo turned to look at Percy, his brows were furrowed and his lips pinched. His glasses were crooked but Percy didn’t dare right them just now.

“You were happy?”

“I was,” Percy nodded, “It felt easy until my father-” Percy cut himself off, looking down at his hands.

Apollo’s larger hands suddenly clasped one of his, giving it a squeeze. “Can you still be happy with me or would you like me to …?”

“I would like to be happy with you. You?” Percy dared to look up and meet Apollo’s gaze. It felt good - if awkward - to finally clarify things.

“Yes,” Apollo smiled and it was the most beautiful thing Percy had seen in ages.

They woke up the following morning at the feet of Aphrodite’s statue with blankets thrown over them and a couple pillows they'd half climbed in their sleep. Mrs O'Leary kicked Apollo in her sleep every few minutes. 

Percy assumed the blankets came from Piper. Apollo insisted they were a sign.

“Why don’t we see your sister?” Percy murmured as he combed his fingers through Apollo’s thick curls. He marvelled at the silky curls as they bounced and fell from one finger to the next, their weight grounded him. "If this is a sign, we should grab it?"

Apollo mumbled into the pillow.

"Huh?"

Apollo shifted, raising his head. "I said, that sounds nice… I'll send a letter."

Percy hummed. He lent down to kiss the curls falling into Apollo's eyes.

Ms Artemis might be terrifying from the brief encounters Percy had had with her, however Apollo clearly missed her. Nevermind, that they could both do with a trip that didn't revolve around a splintered family.

-

Of all the places Percy would have guessed Ms Artemis and her friends to spend Spring, the Peak District in Yorkshire was fairly low on his list. He also hadn't guessed how much colder Yorkshire was compared to the south even as Easter was rapidly approaching.

Percy woke up in a room that might as well have been an icebox. He laid half off the side of the bed, watching his breath float in a little cloud through the weak early morning light. 

He lurched up when the door groaned open. Calming when he recognised the figure standing in the doorway. He smiled when he realised that figure was holding a cup of tea.

He had found that tea was finally starting to grow on him.

"Apollo," Percy murmured, "... Do you have anything you want to do today?"

Percy had some ideas but none were particularly appropriate in the light of day. Or whilst they were in a single guest bedroom in a countryside pub in the middle of Yorkshire.

"I was thinking of hiking. If we set off in an hour or two, we should be able to meet up with Artemis and her friends this evening," Apollo hummed as he offered Percy the drink. Apollo sunk down onto the side of the bed with a sigh.

-

Percy wouldn’t say he regretted saying yes to the hiking, not when Apollo’s hair was catching the light, his thick woollen jumper matched the blue of his eyes. The relatively quiet of the endless landscape was interrupted by Apollo's near endless moaning that he should get back into drawing and come back to this spot every time they rounded a corner or climbed a hill. But when Percy fell in the mud for the third time he was starting to think that hiking didn’t agree with him.

“Maybe we should go sailing for our next holiday,” Percy groused as he picked himself back up.

Apollo was right there in moments checking him over but the amused glint in his eyes said everything Percy needed to know. With a gruff, "I'm fine," Percy pulled Apollo forward away from offending mud.

Apollo simply chuckled, before pulling him to the left at the next footpath.

Percy wasn't sure why until they almost walked straight into a squat building with wide stable doors and a pub sign of a prancing horse swinging above their heads.

"Hello," Apollo called the minute they entered. He nodded towards the fireplace for Percy before approaching the man Percy assumed was the owner, "My friend and I were wondering if you had any rooms to rent or at least a bath we could borrow? My friend had an unfortunate encounter with the floor…"

The large barrel-chested man squinted. He looked at the both of them before nodding, "One room, two beds and my daughter can set up the bath in your room before you head up. £3 before you head up."

Percy snapped his head over but Apollo simply handed the money over along with some extra shillings for two pints.

"Apollo," Percy hissed when the older man came over.

"You look like Mrs O'Leary when she gets off the leash," Apollo shrugged, "The price is ludicrous but I don't want to risk you getting a cold."

Percy sighed, before grimacing at the bitter taste of the drink in his hands.

"Cheer up," Apollo smiled, "Tomorrow morning we should meet up with them."

-

Ms Artemis' home was technically smaller than Apollo's, with the largest room being the dog kennels. It was a functional hunting lodge for all intents and purposes.

As Percy followed behind Apollo, trying not to gawk at the artwork. There were women loitering around either with dogs at their feet or cleaning out rifles. One or two were sorting through camping equipment. Another was disappearing into the engine of a jeep, her toolbox precariously balanced.

"Arty!" Apollo shouted, jolting Percy out of his thoughts. He didn't run but he did speed up.

Percy smiled as he let Apollo rush away from him.

The begrudging smile on Artemis' face was worth not being able to see Apollo's beaming smile.

"Get off of me," She squawked as Apollo gathered her into a hug. The smile disappeared behind a scowl. 

"Thank you, Ms. Artemis, for letting us visit," Percy spoke up as Apollo pouted, releasing her. "Is there a hunt planned today?"

She looked over at him and he felt like he was being dissected again.

"It is nice to see you again, Mr. Jackson," Artemis said. "And no hunting today although some of my guests wish to hike."

Percy attempted not to wince at the threat of yet another hike. He was sure his feet were one big blister by now.

"Sounds great," Apollo spoke for him and Percy had never been more grateful.

"Excellent. Let me introduce you to Zoë, she's coordinating the route today," Artemis spun on her heels and led them towards a dark haired woman hunched over a map.

-

They had all hunkered down in another pub. Percy had taken an instant liking to Zoë even if she had not to him. But right now the Zoë and Artemis had retired to their shared room, whilst Artemis’ hunting party had all retired to theirs, and Apollo and Percy were the only two left awake but the fire. The moon was high in the sky and the pub itself had stopped serving hours ago.

"There is nobody else I want to be with,” Percy whispered into the darkness of the pub, a hushed secret that fell from his lips, “Nobody else I want to spend the rest of my life with. And as long as you are willing to stay, as long as you are willing to be by my side, I will be right here." 

Percy turned his ferocious gaze towards Apollo. He didn't care if he looked ready to go to war or if he'd swallow Apollo up. If he looked angry. He knew what he wanted and who he wanted.

Hopefully, Apollo felt the same.

"Percy," Apollo breathed. His blue eyes widened. The wind had burnt his face until his cheeks were stained red earlier, his perfect lips still chapped.

Percy never wanted this moment to end. The swell of nerves and rising pressure in his chest be damned.

"Apollo, I would marry you if I could," Percy vowed.

Apollo's eyes dropped down to their joined hands. He was thinking. He hadn't immediately said no at least.

It didn't make Percy less nervous.

Eventually, slowly, Apollo raised their hands so he could brush his lips against Percy's knuckles.

"So would I."

-

2 years later

This wasn't something Percy thought he'd ever have. It may not have been the ostentatious spectacle Apollo's family would have expected from him. Nor was this the quiet, humble event for the little mistake that was accepted by Percy. But this day was going to be theirs and theirs alone.

He had been up since first light with nerves. It didn't help that he was in the guest bedroom rather than the one Apollo and he shared. He understood why, of course. An illusion of normality in the events of the day - even if neither of them was a woman and this wasn't ever going to be legally binding - but it didn't ease his anxiety.

Percy found himself watching the nearest tree, pink blossoms shiver in the wind, from the comfort of his bed. He was full of nervous energy which had caused his limbs to lock up. That in and of itself worried him since that's not how excess energy and he had ever worked.

He tried to level his breathing by counting the number of times a spindly branch bounced against the windowpane due to the wind blowing particularly harshly ever so often.

Eventually, he relaxed enough to get out of bed when the wood pigeons decided to make themselves known. 

This was going to be a long Easter Sunday.

-

Percy stood buttoning his shirt and debating whether to wear the cufflinks Kym had gifted him years earlier, back before everything became impossibly complicated. He’d cling to that memory today and the hope that maybe his sister will find happiness … at a distance.

He shrugged on his jacket just in time for the knock on the door.

"Apollo," Percy breathed, smiling.

"Percy," Apollo's voice was as thick and rich as always. "Ready?"

The smell of laurels and cloves washed over Percy as Apollo brushed past him. 

"Always," Percy breathed, he felt heavier than lead and lighter than air. 

He felt like crying and dancing and screaming. 

He felt like a mess. 

It was wonderful.

Behind closed doors, Apollo threaded their fingers together and began. "I, Phoebus Apollon Papadopoulos, take Perseus James Jackson to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forward..."

Percy zoned out, focusing on the way Apollo's eyes practically glowed with happiness. The way Apollo's thumb traced little circles into Percy's skin as he spoke. The rustle as Phoebus Apollon took the ring from his pocket, the weight of it as it slid onto his finger.

And then it was his turn, nerves made his voice shake. "I, Perseus James Jackson, take Phoebus Apollon Papadopoulos as my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life.”

The kiss that followed was impossibly soft.

Percy felt like they were walking on clouds and the sun had graced them specifically with a particularly temperate Spring day.

It was the first time either of them had entered the church in the village. It was small and felt like someone had just cracked open an old tomb - a slightly sickly sweet smell included. The pews were hard and a little cold as the pair sat, hand in hand, at the back. They ignored the curious looks from the rest of the congregation.

Neither man listened to the sermon that the Reverend waffled on and on about, it was something about Easter, rebirth and sacrifice. Both were too interested in each other's presence, pressed up against their own. Then came the part they were actually interested in communion.

-

There was no fanfare on the walk home. No photos were taken, and no guests were greeted. And yet, it was perfect.

The air was crisp and the sky was as blue as Apollo's eyes. When they got out of the village and on the lane back home Percy slipped his hand into Apollo's. 

Apollo squeezed.

Percy squeezed back.

No words were exchanged; the content buzz in the air was enough.

Apollo stopped them on their way back up the drive. 

Percy almost stumbled into him. "Phoebus?" His voice sounded too loud.

Apollo didn't respond, instead turning and scooping Percy up. One strong arm under his legs and another behind his back. With a startled squeak, Percy wrapped his arms around Apollo's neck.

"Apollo!"

"Do you not like this?" Apollo smiled, all too aware he loved every minute of this.

Percy could feel his cheeks heating up. It was rare that anyone made him feel small. He wasn't going to admit that he loved it. Instead, he buried his head in Apollo's neck and let himself be carried up the final few feet to the door and over the threshold.

Piper greeted them in the foyer, which was a surprise. She never normally greeted them - she hadn't when they returned from the States. But she was beaming at the pair so they weren't immediately alarmed.

"Please do not be angry," Piper said, her smile no less wide.

"What's happened?" Percy asked as Apollo lowered him to the ground.

"You have some guests in the dining room," Piper began, "And brunch will be served in twenty." She stepped backwards - one, two, three paces - then lifted her hand in the correct direction.

Apollo raised an eyebrow and Percy glanced up at his husband. The thought of Apollo as his husband made him shiver.

A familiar giggle snapped him out of it. Flora.

Apollo's hand in his, Percy pulled the stunned man into the dining room. He stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw.

It wasn't just the Underwoods sitting at the table, with Flora trying to turn the salt shaker into a blunt-force weapon. But Apollo's siblings too.

Percy went to drop Apollo’s hand, only for him to squeeze Percy's so tight he thought the bones might break.

"Hello everyone, what a pleasant surprise. Did we have plans for a get-together?" Apollo said, moving even closer to Percy's side.

"I thought we were celebrating you two getting married?" Dionysus drawled, sipping on wine that he got from somewhere.

"Excuse-"

"We know," Artemis cut Apollo off. She tapped her ring finger, "The rings in your holiday photos were a bit telling. Mr Underwood and Miss McLean filled us in on the rest."

"Gro-"

"Sit already," Hermes grinned, cutting Percy off, "Today's meant to be a happy one right?"

Apollo barked out a laugh as he took one of the last free seats.

Percy continued to stand completely still. His brain refused to accept what was in front of him.

"Percy?" It was Juniper.

Percy hummed.

"Sit down, beloved," Apollo said gently. A warm hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him into the seat next to him. "We're safe. We're among friends."

Percy rapidly blinked back tears as it finally sank in. They were safe. They were among friends. And they were celebrating the closest thing to a marriage they may ever get.

The moment was broken as Flora clambered into Percy's lap, proudly showing off her tiny baby teeth to her Uncle.

-

Percy didn't think he'd get this. Peace. 

But as he walked bundled into Apollo's car bound for the coast. For a hotter climate and a decadent almost honeymoon with a man surgically attached to his scarf and a voice like honey, he dared to think he may have found it.

Chapter Text

Christmas 2005

Percy thought Apollo was as beautiful as always. Even a few years shy of ninety, in pinstripe pyjamas and his signature scarf.

Meg, Apollo's live-in nurse, helped him the last few steps into the winged chair. He was so stubborn, refusing to sit in his wheelchair at all in the house.

"Percy," Apollo smiled and it still warmed Percy's heart. "Merry Christmas, beloved."

"Merry Christmas, Phoebus, Meg," Percy murmured, barely audible over the fire crackling away in the hearth. But Apollo's hearing was still fairly good, good enough to piece together Percy's words. "The children will be up soon."

Apollo groaned. "They're so loud though."

"You never wear your hearing aids and can play the grumpy old man card," Percy laughed and he felt his rib protest, the one he had broken two years earlier. 

"My wonderful husband, you can play the grumpy old man card too," Apollo teased.

They settled into a mostly comfortable silence as they enjoyed the calm before the present opening frenzy.

"Meg, could you give us a moment?" Percy asked eventually. He smiled at the woman as she ducked out. 

He ignored Apollo's grumble that went along the lines of why does she listen to you? She never listens to me. Percy focused on smoothing out the document in his worn hands, he wondered absentmindedly when his hands got so old. When did Apollo go from a Greek god to a charming old man? Where did the time go?

"Apollo," Percy interrupted whatever Apollo was muttering about. A spike of contentment went through him as the sound of dentures clicking shut echoed. He really had grown old with the love of his life. "You were the most beautiful man I ever laid eyes on and you have been my husband as far as I am concerned for over sixty years."

"Perseus, please tell me you haven't decided at eighty-three to leave me?" Apollo interrupted, looking slightly panicked. "Is it about the children? I love the little nutters. Even the one that bites. I-"

" No . I am not leaving you, you ridiculous man," Percy laughed and handed over the documents in his lap along with Apollo's spare reading glasses because he had long since stopped trying to get him to keep them on him. "But I did think dying legally together would be nice, since we finally can."

Apollo froze when he stared at the certificate.

"Are you happy?" Percy asked, fingers dancing along the armrest of his chair.

Apollo nodded shakily.

"This was unnecessary," he finally said.

"It was," Percy agreed.

“How did you manage this without me knowing?”

“I forged your signature. Meg and Will were the witnesses and Lyca was the official present so…”

"It's sweet."

"It is."

"I love you."

"I love you too," Percy smiled. "Now," he groaned as he stood and Apollo's eyes twinkled as they followed him, "Breakfast? Tea? Coffee?"

"I would have thought after sixty-six years you would know I hate coffee," Apollo smirked. "Where's Meg?"

"I'll go get her," Percy said as he moved towards the door.

"Tell her to bring a hammer and a picture frame, I want this on the wall," Apollo called after him.

Percy smiled as he left for the kitchen. 

The kitchen had changed over the years. It no longer looked like a comforting, borderline rustic room with a range and Piper kicking back on one of the chairs. Now it's … nice, Percy supposed, overly fancy for a kitchen. Chrome and steel. Too many gadgets for two old men. And if nothing made that more obvious, it was the fact that the kettle and the toaster had been used to death thrice since the remodel but neither had seen fit to touch the SodaStream that their adopted daughter, Lyca, had insisted on in 1982.

But today seemed to have the past creeping up on him when he entered the kitchen. Rich brown hair tied back, big boots like the ones Piper always used when the garden got too muddy crossed on the new table. A cup of tea was on the table by her elbow. He almost thought it was 1946 again. 

Then he rounded the table. The face is wrong. Blue eyes instead of hazel. It's their great-granddaughter Hetty.

"I thought you were still asleep," Percy said as he moved over to the kettle checking to see if it was still warm enough. It was.

"Couldn't sleep," Hetty said. "How did Grandfather take his present?"

"Good, I think. Would you like another cup?"

"Please," Hetty smiled. "Thought you'd throw a party in honour of finally having a bit of paper?"

"Mmm," Percy hummed, he didn't mention that half the people on the imaginary guest list were dead, infirm or senile. "Maybe if we were a little younger. Anyway, it's Christmas and you and Charlie are here. Even your father made an appearance."

Hetty hummed although she sounded less pleased. "Can you tell me about your honeymoon again? The first one, I'm sure you plan on taking Grandfather on another one now."

"Sure," Percy smiled, handing her the tray as his hands weren't as steady as they used to be. "In the living room with Phoebus. I think he'd like to get on his soapbox about mosquitos and why to never wear cologne near a camel again."

The girl - sorry, the teenager - nodded and followed as they made their way back to the warmest part of the lower floor of the house.

Apollo was still staring at the certificate - now hung on the wall - with a small smile. He breathed, "Thank you," to Hetty as he took his cup.

She placed the rest of the tray on the small table in the room and settled on the floor between the pair. Waiting for Percy to start and Apollo to occasionally cut in.

Today was going to be perfect.