Work Text:
Sparring in Jason's room was not the best idea.
If anyone asked, they would argue that the gym was occupied; and really, Percy was so full of pent-up energy he didn't care where he released it. But Jason and Percy were both too smart to not recognize a bad idea when they saw one.
So when Jason pinned Percy against the wall and they both realized they were breathing a little too hard, a red flag went up. And when Percy gave in to Jason's lips, he knew exactly what he was doing. And when the cabin became too hot too bear even as they shed their clothes and moved to the cool sheets of Jason's bed, the two of them had to actively ignore the pit in their stomachs that told them how wrong, wrong, wrong they were.
After the first night, Percy tried to cut it off. He promised to stay away, to not let himself slip. Eventually, he thought he could handle it when Jason asked to talk about it. But then talking turned to kissing and kissing turned to more, and Percy came back for it every night, the habit almost instinctual. Being with Jason was good and being bad was better, and the nagging morals in the back of Percy's head were no match for the electricity of Jason's touch and the heat of their passion.
Guilt followed them during the day, and at night they chased it away with kisses on skin and gentle mummers in the others ear.
Perhaps, Percy thought, Jason got the same high he did, the same thrill from sneaking around in the night. Perhaps they had something more than physical, something that they would have never been able to ignore. But they weren't stupid. They knew -Percy knew- that night, that once they opened the floodgates their bad idea would come to claim its consequences.
Percy hoped that Jason would fact them with him.