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Percy corners Nico one day.
"What do you mean, I'm not your type?"
"Er..."
They were in the middle of the forest, and Percy was on the opposite team for Capture the Flag. Nico's pretty sure he should be brandishing his sword and taking Percy to his team's prison. But Percy's glare was intense.
It was only this morning that Nico confessed. Percy had stuttered at the time, more confused than Nico had ever remembered seeing him.
Percy wasn't stuttering now.
Instead, the son of Poseidon was stalking towards him. Nico found himself backed into a tree.
"Let me tell you something, di Angelo," Percy said, leaning far too close for comfort. Nico was starting to have difficulty breathing. But he couldn't seem to move away, or do anything but stare as Percy's face got steadily closer.
He swallowed nervously. Percy smirked, inches away.
"I'm everybody's type."
Then, Percy kissed him. Fiercely.
Nico tried to resist, hands reaching up to push at Percy's shoulders. But his hands simply clung on to the bronze armour, pulling Percy closer.
Percy's lips were demanding. They seared Nico's lips like the afternoon sun. They smothered him until he wanted to gasp, for air or for mercy he didn't know. Nico couldn't get enough of it.
He moaned, floating away like driftwood on persistent waves.
When Percy finally let go of him, Nico didn’t know how much time had passed. He could do little else but slump against the tree, sliding down to the floor.
Percy grinned down at him, a self-satisfied expression on his face.
"Don't say something stupid like I'm not your type again," Percy grinned. "Or you know what will happen."
Nico looked up and huffed incredulously. "Are you trying to make me say it to you every day?"
Percy laughed, and offered him a hand up. Nico took it, Capture the Flag long forgotten.
That was until Percy slapped some celestial bronze handcuffs on him. Nico responded by summoning a platoon of skeleton soldiers.