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Annabeth really needed to stop having Christmas parties, Percy mentally grumbled as he leaned against the counter of her kitchen.
He took another drink from his red cup, decoratively adorned with Christmas-themed alphabet stickers to spell out people’s names. Luke, out of the goodness of his heart, picked out the letters for Percy, preventing an almost guaranteed headache. Sure, Percy liked Christmas, what kind of Scrooge didn’t when there were friends and family to spend the holiday with? Regardless, Percy was not one for much Christmas joy. The boxers that Luke forced Percy to buy the previous year had only been worn once, at Luke’s demand. Well, twice, including tonight, also at Luke’s insistence.
“Aw, you two are under the mistletoe!” Percy heard, drawing him out of his mild Scrooge-like mental complaining. Bianca was pointing across the apartment at Thalia and Luke, the two of them standing under the archway that slightly separated the open kitchen from the rest of the apartment.
With a sigh, Percy looked back into his cup, taking a swig of some mint-flavored alcoholic drink Thalia had made.
Annabeth also needed to stop allowing Thalia to serve alcoholic drinks at these stupid parties—especially given how heavy-handed she usually was with the hundred-proof vodka, a wolf in sheep’s clothing there.
Luke scratched the back of his head, and Percy watched the nimble way his fingers laced through his blond hair at the nape of his neck, slightly hypnotized at the sight. It eased the looming jealous in the pit of Percy’s stomach at the thought of seeing Luke kiss Thalia; it felt awfully like impending doom, not that he would ever tell Luke that though. Percy missed the nervous glance Annabeth gave Percy, concerned about his reaction and probably feeling him tense beside her.
“What mistletoe?” Thalia asked, looking up at an apparently mistletoe-free wall. Percy let out a sigh of relief before he could stop himself. Luke twisted around, shooting Percy a smug smirk, quickly wiggling his eyebrows at Percy.
“Huh, that’s funny,” Annabeth said from beside Percy; she was working on perfectly applying the letters in her name so that there were in a straight line, not bothering to turn around. “There was definitely some mistletoe there earlier.”
“That’s what I thought,” Bianca said, shrugging and turning back to her conversation with Zoe.
Percy kept his eyes on Luke the whole time, observing the nonchalant shrug that he gave to Thalia as she walked away, drink in hand.
“Not like I’d kiss your thieving ass anyway, Castellan,” Thalia taunted, a mocking look on her face to which Luke responded with a middle finger and a tight-lipped smile. “Besides, Percy might get jealous.”
Somehow, Percy refrained from laughing, coughing to cover the beginnings of a chuckle. Luke caught Percy’s eye, his body still turned in the other direction, and Percy watched with a smirk as one of Luke’s hands went toward a back pocket of his jeans.
The tell-tale green of mistletoe stuck out the slightest bit.
Shaking his head, Percy couldn’t help but wonder what on earth Luke had planned to do with that, even though he had a pretty decent idea. Sure, he’d probably only stole it on a whim because he’s a thieving little shit like Thalia said, but that wasn’t likely the end of it.
Percy turned back to Annabeth, offering his help as he dreaded whatever was to come.
-
After five hours, four drinks with likely more alcohol than Percy estimated, and three different discussions centered on how Annabeth and Thalia actually bought Luke and Percy’s gifts for each other, Percy and Luke found themselves back at Percy’s apartment.
“At least you’ll be around this Christmas,” Percy said, talking slightly louder than usual as he rummaged in his closet for a pair of sweatpants.
“Yeah, that’s definitely a plus,” Luke answered. “It’ll be a better Christmas, probably since it actually feels like Christmas. But I’m a bit nervous about your dad being around. Much as you say he likes me, I think he still has his reservations about me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, he hasn’t killed you yet, has he?” Percy asked rhetorically. “That’s the highest compliment coming from him, and you’ve met him a million times already.”
“You mean, four?” Luke quipped back, pulling his thermal over his head and ruffling his hair back into place but only messing it up further.
“Whatever, same thing.” Percy waved his hand at Luke, not looking at him as he stepped out of his jeans, nearly slipping with his socks on the hardwood floor of his room.
Luke laughed, and Percy glared at his approaching form. Within seconds, Luke’s arm was around Percy’s waist, and Luke mumbled, “Don’t try to tell me your dyslexia led to such an exaggeration. Four and a million are pretty far apart for you to confuse,” as he hunched his back, pressing his face into Percy’s shoulder.
“It’s more times than Annabeth’s seen him,” Percy said, letting Luke interpret that for himself, the significance of Percy’s tone sinking in. “But don’t worry, I won’t let him kill you,” Percy said, trying to lighten the mood. His fingers tightened around Luke’s wrist.
“Pretty sure he would try to if knew what I had in mind now though,” Luke whispered, and Percy saw one of Luke’s hands move to his back pocket.
Goosebumps formed over Percy’s skin, possibly from the fact that he only had an undershirt and boxers on, but more likely from the knowledge of what was about to happen. “Oh, god,” Percy grumbled into Luke’s ear. “If you’re serious, then any discussions about my father need to end right now.”
“Deal,” Luke said, his lips already on Percy’s, the mistletoe falling to the floor.
Luke brought his other hand to Percy’s hip, holding him firmly in place, and Percy let out a soft moan, already somewhat uninhibited from the alcohol. At that, Luke’s grip tightened even more as he lifted Percy up, feeling legs lock loosely around his middle. Taking two steps forward, Luke pressed Percy against the wall, one hand under Percy’s butt and the other going to Percy’s hair.
Luke swiped his tongue along Percy’s bottom lip, smirking into the kiss when Percy’s fingers pressed into his bare shoulder, digging incessantly. Not long after shoving Percy against the wall did Percy begin to surge forward, pushing his hips against Luke’s and breathing, “Bed,” into Luke’s mouth.
When the back of Luke’s knees hit the bed, Percy pitched himself forward which elicited a breathless groan from Luke.
“Merry Christmas,” Percy smirked, sitting atop Luke, who was powerless to do anything but smile and pull Percy down by the front of his white t-shirt, pulling it over Percy’s head.
-
The next morning, the twenty-third, Percy and Luke woke up early, tagging along with Sally to meet Percy’s dad at La Guardia airport. Percy groaned at the sound of his mother knocking on his bedroom door.
“Percy, are you awake? We have to leave in twenty minutes,” Sally explained from the other side of the closed door.
Luke, still fast asleep, rolled over when Percy slinked out from under his arm, grabbing his pair of boxers and t-shirt from the floor and tugging them on quickly.
As a last minute thought, he kicked the forgotten mistletoe under his bed and out of sight—the pile of clothes seemed much naughtier when in the presence of the mistletoe. Early as it was, Percy smiled to himself.
“Yeah, we’ll be ready soon,” Percy said, figuring he’d let Luke sleep a few minutes after all his selfless giving the night before.