Chapter Text
Shrouded in a soft green Mist is the night the Wilderness Club delinquents threw the party of the century. Leo should know. According to his memory, he was there.
Beer, vodka, even then he knew he'd be sick. Why mix stewed barley with hard liquor? Oh, right. Potatoes.
Caught sight of Piper walking in with Jason. Hell. Zeroing in on their intertwined fingers. Hell. Remembering how strangely soft those callused palms were. Hell. He needed another drink.
"Jesus, calm it down, Valdez," one of the giggly girls called with a smile. Pink lipstick stained her front teeth. Leo was drunk enough to assume it'd soon be on his tongue. Tomorrow he'd feel like a slut, but tonight he felt like James frickin' Bond.
"Double fisting already?" Piper teased as she drew nearer. Jason smiled, saying something Leo never processed but pretended to hear.
"One for the lovely lady, of course," Leo joked, handing Piper one of the shots. She took it reluctantly, scowling at the taste.
Taste... he wondered briefly if she every tasted him on Jason's lips. Was his honey tinged sweetness sullied by Leo's cigarette breath?
Did she say something? Shit. He was too busy ogling her boyfriend again. He's a bad friend, the worst one Piper had.
"I was asking about your little amiga. How is she?" Piper repeated, her words a drowned scream against the bass that roared like a fire, engulfing them all in alcohol scented smoke.
"Oh, she's down to clown. You know they can't resist my charm. Like lambs to the slaughter." Did he detect a flash of jealousy in Jason's eyes? No. No. He shouldn't care.
"Be careful with your drink. Don't leave it unattended," Jason said, the undertone of fuss making Leo cringe. To quote 30 Rock, you're not my dad.
"If someone feels like it takes a drug to get me, I'm basically flattered," Leo babbled with a cheesy grin. He felt drunk. He was drunk.
Wrong answer. Jason's bright blue eyes narrowed, the sky colored irises covered by golden eyelashes. The small scar on his lip twitched, rough skin pulling at the soft pink flesh under it.
Stop looking at his lips! Leo sighed, feigning dramaticism. "Fine, I'll get a new one. Don't be such a Nervous Nelly, beautiful. Who's roofie-ing me?"
Leo breezed off quickly, suddenly irritated. Worry about your girlfriend, asswipe. Don't be an asswipe. He poured another out of the clear vodka bottle.
"Did you know vodka is made from potatoes? Yet it's not Irish, it's Russian," he said aloud, slurring as he mumbled. He scanned the room for his friends. "Not all potatoes are Irish. Stereotypes are not slay."
"Who are you talking to?" The girl was back, now looking a bit annoyed.
"Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here, What say we head back to the dorms, maybe bring some wine, draw a bath, and just get it on, eh?" he mumbled, shooting her a grin.
"You're so gross. Never in a million years," she said with a judgmental grimace, crossing her arms.
"Aw, c'mon, you get sober or sum? You were into it earlier, ba-"
"She told you to fuck off, shorty. She's not slutting herself out to you," A voice growled from behind him. A boyfriend? Fucking peachy.
Leo turned around, scathing comment on his lips, before physically flinching away from the sheer size of the guy. No wonder she's turned off.
The insecurity and alcohol only made him angrier. He glared. "Actually, I was slutting myself out to her, but since she's not interested, I'll back off. Consent matters to me. Ever heard of that? Consent?"
That was the wrong thing to say. The giant (who Leo had taken to calling Asshole in his very witty very drunk mind) charged. His liquid courage made Leo charge right back.
His fists hit marble but Asshole struck gold, a terribly unsexy sound coming from Leo's nose as it was hit. Blood slid down to his upper lip.
Before he could throw another useless punch, a god in purple whisked forward, callused hands pushing against Leo's chest. An eagle burned onto his wrist, something Leo never noticed. It disappeared almost as soon as it was seen.
"Enough," Leo's personal god of good looks and body guarding growled. Soft sparks like static cracked gently in his hands, like a different kind of fire. But Leo didn't want to think about fire right now. Or Jason's hands.
Asshole back off, leaving Jason with Leo, glaring icicles his way. "Are you kidding me?"
"Baby, I'm always kidding you," Leo grumbled, rolling his eyes and wiping blood off his face. "I need cigarette."
He didn't, actually. He hated smoking, but some girls think it makes you look like a bad boy, and he had to stay true to the aesthetic. Plus, it made for quick getaways.
It wasn't until he was outside that he noticed Jason still behind him. The blond pushed Leo against the wall of the mess hall where the bass was still pumping, examining his likely ruined face with a scowl.
"Leaf me 'lone," Leo protested as Jason manhandled has face, the smell of cologne not strong enough to mask the tendrils of Piper's perfume in it. Leo's nose prickled and he knew tears would rise.
"You can pretend everything's okay as long as you want, Leo, but this self-destructive path you've been on is nothing to laugh about. If you have a problem- look at me," he all but snarled, making Leo's watery eyes snap instantly to him, "If you have a problem, be honest."
"Don't talk to me about being honest," Leo snapped back, gritting his teeth angrily as the tears fell down his cheeks.
Jason softened, the corner of his lip dimpling where he was biting the inside of it. "Leo-"
"No!" he snarled, feeling like a scared dog, knowing he couldn't resist this boy with his baby blue eyes and dimpled cheeks anymore than Piper could, "I can't do this anymore Jason! It's not fair to her! Piper's my best friend! I can't..."
His head slumped, tears blurring the sight of his legs. "I can't do this to her. I'm sorry."
"Leo..." Jason started, his hands gentler now as they pulled Leo's head upwards. "I'm so sorry. You're right. I have to break up with her. I have to. It's not right. I love you too much to do this to you."
Leo looked up, watching Jason's perfect- even with the scar they were fucking perfect- lips tilt into a sad smile. "I love you, Leo."
Leo exhaled shakily as Jason pulled closer. The tug in his stomach wasn't the usual desire, nor the pride in being picked that made him so ashamed. This was different.
Jason's lips parted softly, breath cascading over Leo's. But the drunken haze he'd been in before was now awash with clarity.
"That's not what you said."
Jason stopped, blinking his baby blue eyes. Eyes Leo knew were actually sky blue, as clear as the cloudless vasts in Nevada.
"You never promised to end it with her. You never apologized. You were sorry, but not enough to lie and say you-" Leo cut off as his voice broke. He could feel the dream start to crumble, like a scene from Inception. "You never said you loved me."
The Jason before him started to crumble, soft skin falling like dried mud as the earthen face of a woman Leo knew all too well grinned wickedly. Gaea.
"He never did, muñeco. And he never will," she told him, her eyes still closed peacefully, though soft loam fluttered like eyelashes. Threatening him.
Leo gasped for breath, jerking upwards. His back was stiff from the floor of Bunker 9, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dark to see the wooden side of his pride and joy, the Argo II.
The soft voice that plagued him ever since he started working came back, drowning out the memory of Gaea.
Work hard. Be better. Don't fail.
He sighed, sprawling onto the floor again, staring up at the ceiling.
He should've been happy. Every betrayal, every tear, every soft breath ghosted on his neck, they were all fake. Made up memories to explain why the son of Jupiter sat on that bus the morning everything went wrong. And right. And sideways.
Muñeco. The word echoed in his mind. Doll, she'd called. Was it because he was fragile? Or because of his painted on smile?
Leo groaned, grabbing one of his CDs (Labled "leo valdez's BEST PLAYLIST EVER!!!" and complete with every song he could burn onto 14 discs, from Funkytown to Everywhere I Go) and shoving it into his player. It wasn't surprising when he'd discovered that CD players, MP3 players, and Walkmans were perfectly alright to use. Different radio waves. Did no one know the difference between the longitudinal waves?
Boy For the Weekend by Marc Indigo started playing and Leo snorted. How fitting. He flicked the lights back on, checking the time. 3:30 in the morning.
He pulled his goggles back over his eyes, wiping the oil off one lense.
"Alright, bitches," he spoke to no one in particular, "Let's get this bread."