Work Text:
Tis the Damn Season (Taylor Swift)
Apollo was a famous singer-songwriter who lived in LA and had homes in NYC and Nashville. But he mainly stayed in LA. He loved the people, he loved the atmosphere, he loved all the types of vegan pizza you could get. He loved his mansion.
However, he was in the midst of writing a new album and the scenery was getting too stagnant. He saw the same people every day and at every party, he ate the same thing and did the same workout every day. It wasn’t great for his creative juices.
So he was flying out to his place in New York City, hoping the feel of a new place and new faces would inspire him for his newest album.
What he didn’t anticipate was seeing his old flame, Percy Jackson, taking his kindergarten class on a field trip to Central Park on the same day Apollo was there finding inspiration in nature and people-watching. He was so cute, wearing a pair of jeans with a white t-shirt, black hair ruffled from the light wind. He smiled so genuinely at the parent volunteers and laughed heartily when one of the kids told him a story. It would be a lie if Apollo said he didn’t ache for Percy Jackson every day. They’d been together for three years while Apollo was living full time in New York, but just like this time, the scenery and people were all the same and he needed a change, so he moved to LA. Percy didn’t come with him.
They parted amicably, but Apollo hated that Percy didn’t come with him. He could have been a teacher in LA. But Percy had made his choices.
Apollo signed as he strummed his guitar.
“ If I wanted to know who you were hanging with
While I was gone, I would have asked you.
It’s the kind of cold , fogs up windshield glass
But I felt it when I passed you.
There’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me.
But if it’s all the same to you,
It’s the same to me.”
That’s as far as he’d gotten with his song. It wasn’t a chorus, but he was thinking it up now and anxiously scribbling it down as the group of toddlers came closer, but unnoticed.
“Apollo?” That voice did things to him, still.
“Perseus,” Apollo purred, looking up at the bright and sunny young man through his eyelashes. He stood gracefully and swung his guitar around so it laid across his back.
“What are you doing here?” Percy smiled politely, but Apollo wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Was he hoping Apollo was staying long term? Was he shocked to see him? Was he angry? Was he seeing someone else?
“I needed a change in scenery,” he smiled brightly, luring the other man in.
“Ah, new album?” Percy nodded, he knew him so well.
“Mister Percy?” A downright precious little girl in a pink gingham dress pulled on Percy’s sleeve and he knelt down next to her.
“What is it, Dorothea?” He asked gently.
“Who is this?”
“This is my old friend, would you like to meet him?” When she nodded, Percy stood and held out his hand for her to take. “Apollo, this is Dorothea. Dorothea, this is Apollo.”
“It is nice to meet you Mister Apollo,” she smiled brightly and Apollo melted under her gaze.
“The pleasure is all mine, Dorothea.”
“Will you keep singing that song?” She asked with wide eyes. “It was very pretty.”
“Well, it’s not finished,” he started, but when she stuck her lower lip out he conceded. “But I can play what I have so far,” she brightened immediately and Apollo sat again with his guitar in hands with his back against a large tree.
He started from the beginning again, then went on with his scribbled lyrics.
“ So we could call it even
You could call me ‘babe’ for the weekend.
Tis the damn season, write this down.
I’m stayin’ at my city house,
And the road not taken looks real good now.
And it always leads to you and my hometown.
I parked my car right next to the Methodist,
And the park that used tobe ours.
The holidays linger like bad perfume,
You can run, but only so far.
I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave.
But if it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me.”
He sang the chorus one more time and stopped, strumming slowly to an end.
“I haven’t finished it yet, but maybe I will see you again, and you can hear the whole thing,” Apollo smiled at the little girl who looked like she was in love, and he couldn’t help but notice Percy’s soft smile as well.
“It was nice to see you, but I’ve got to get back to my field trip,” Apollo frowned at Percy’s words. “You could call me sometime, maybe play me the rest of that song?” Percy bit his lower lip and brushed his hair out of his face. He gave Apollo one last look before walking away.
Apollo heaved a heavy sigh. That was one hell of a man.
But, that was how he found himself back in Central Park th next Saturday on a lunch date with Percy.
“Will you play me the rest of the song?” he asked in between bites of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich?
Apollo was not too ashamed to say that he was constantly blushing and stuttering around his long time love, but it would get in the way of his singing.
“Maybe,” he plucked at a guitar string. “It’s about you, you know,” he looked up through the blonde hair in his eyes and smiled meekly.
Percy paused, sandwich halfway to his mouth, and pondered that.
“Well then,” he finally spoke. “I think I deserve to hear the rest of it.” He finished his sandwich and came to sit next to Apollo, leaning his warm head on Apollo’s shoulder as the singer started up the song from the beginning again, and took Percy through the new lyrics.
“ So we could call it even
You could call me ‘babe’ for the weekend.
Tis the damn season, write this down.
I’m stayin’ at my city house,
And the road not taken looks real good now.
Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires.
Now I’m missing your smile, hear me out.
We could just ride around,
And the road not taken looks real good now.
And it always leads to you and my hometown.
Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake.
I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay.
So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends
Who'll write books about me if I ever make it.
And wonder about the only soul
Who can tell which smiles I'm fakin'
And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own
To leave the warmest bed I've ever known
We could call it even
Even though I'm leaving
And I'll be yours for the weekend
'Tis the damn season.”
He trailed off after singing the final chorus.
“So,” Percy finally moved from his spot, and Apollo found he missed the warmth. “You’ll be mine for the weekend?” He smirked, though it was fragile and tentative. He wasn’t sure if Apollo would say yes.
Apollo did what he did best and what he wanted most in this world: he leaned over and kissed Percy softly, as gentle as the sunlight on their shoulders and as meaningful as the words in his song.