Chapter Text
This was originally supposed to be a pinochle game. That much Dionysus is certain of. Rules of engagement typically demanded more than one player but unfortunately for him, the god across the table hasn't moved for the last 15 minutes. Enough is enough, isn't it?
“You’re staring.”
Apollo startled. “I’m not staring. I’m --”
“Gawking? Gaping?” a slow smile slid over the wine god's face. “Dare I ask: Brother, are you pining?”
“Don’t be ridiculous," Phoebus scoffed. "I don't pine."
Dionysus hummed. Ever since his return to godhood, Apollo had started coming around the camp more often. Checking in on his kids, chit-chatting with campers, leading archery lessons. The little sunspot had even managed to rope him into semi-regular pinochle games. It was...nice. Not that Dionysus would ever say it out loud, mind you. There were appearances to attend to.
Recently though, he'd started to notice a couple changes in the sun god. His eyes strayed, he'd get lost in the middle of his sentences, and there was that curious beam of sunlight always following the son of Poseidon around. No, it certainly didn't bode well. Apollo hadn't looked at someone like that in eons. He should report this to someone, no? Maybe Artemis?
"Oh, denial's no fun. You know, my twelve-step program says that admitting you’ve got a problem is the first step to getting better. I can get you a pamphlet if you're interested.”
“I don’t have a problem,” Apollo muttered. And he doesn’t, thank you very much. Because if he did, then it would be a huge problem. Apocalyptic, even.
He dragged his eyes back to the hill where Percy Jackson -- twice Savior of Olympus and the current bane of his existence -- is lounging with some of his friends. Oh, he's so totally staring. Really it would be a crime not to, Percy's doing this thing with his hands and --
“You gonna do something about it?” Dionysus asked. He wasn't expecting much of a reaction but the way the sun god winces is enough to spur him on.
“Apollo," he chortled. "Don’t tell me you’ve got actual feelings for the brat. I think I might have to bully you for that one.”
Apollo aimed a kick at his brother's ankles but the effort only seemed to add to his glee. It’s not like Apollo’s in love with him, thank the Fates. Percy Jackson is just a passing a curiosity. It'll be fine.
Fine.
He knows he sounds pathetic when he turns to his brother and asks, “Do you know if he has a boyfriend? Girlfriend?” Some hideous, third-rate, completely undeserving beau?... Please don’t say yes.
“Oh, I’m definitely going to bully you for this,” Dionysus smirked, already reigning back a few choice words. "But I wouldn’t know. We’re not exactly on good terms. You could ask Aphrodite...Wait, does she know? Who else knows?" The god of wine drew a big breath. "Can I tell Ares?”
"Okay, that’s enough."
Dionysus looked positively giddy and that’s Apollo’s cue to leave, pinochle game be damned.
“Wait! You didn’t answer my question! Are you going to do something about it?”
But Apollo was already walking down the steps of the Big House. “Whatever," Dionysus grumbled. "It’s not like I care.”
He shuffled in his seat. “Just don’t mess this one up!”