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Jason Grace was not easily undone. He’d faced titans, storm spirits, armies of monsters, and even Zeus’s temper without breaking stride. But on this particular Saturday afternoon in the workshop of the Argo II, his greatest adversary turned out to be…
his own stomach.
He sat slouched against the wall, long legs stretched out in front of him, one hand pressed against his midsection. His blond hair, usually windblown in that heroic, magazine-cover way, was plastered to his forehead with sweat. He looked like a demigod who had taken a lightning bolt to the gut.
“Ugh,” Jason groaned.
From across the room, a pile of gears clattered to the floor. Leo Valdez popped up from behind a workbench, goggles on his forehead, smudges of grease painting his cheeks like war paint. His brown eyes zeroed in on Jason.
“Whoa, Superman, you look like you just lost a cage match with Hera,” Leo said, tossing aside a wrench. “What’s the damage? Did your abs finally rebel against you? ‘Cause, like, they’ve been showing off for years. I’d revolt too.”
Jason gave him a look that was supposed to be threatening but came out more pitiful. “It’s…nothing. Just a stomachache.”
Leo crossed the room in a few long strides, crouched down in front of him, and tilted his head. “Nothing? Bro, you look like death warmed over. And not even the cool, mysterious kind of death. More like the bad cafeteria food kind.”
Jason sighed, pressing his palm more firmly to his stomach. “Maybe it was lunch. I don’t know. It just hurts.”
Leo’s expression softened. He reached out and brushed his fingers along Jason’s jaw. “Okay, first of all, don’t scare me like that. Second of all…” He smirked, though there was concern under it. “I told you not to eat that questionable meatball sub from the camp store before we left. But nooo, you had to prove that demigod stomachs can handle anything.”
Jason closed his eyes. “I wanted to believe.”
Leo chuckled and settled down beside him, shoulder bumping against Jason’s. For a moment, they sat in the warm, tool-scented silence of the workshop, broken only by the faint hum of enchanted engines. Jason leaned slightly into Leo without meaning to, like a tree tipping toward the sun.
“Do you need anything?” Leo asked after a while. “Water? Tea? My world-famous Valdez hot water bottle invention? It’s basically just a wrench I enchanted to be warm, but hey, it works.” Jason cracked a small smile. “Tea sounds good.”
“Tea it is, mi amor.” Leo hopped up and made for the tiny kitchenette he’d cobbled together in the corner of the workshop. Jason watched him rummage through mismatched mugs and jars of herbs, muttering in rapid-fire Spanish as he went. Somehow, the sight of Leo, messy curls sticking up in every direction, sleeves rolled past his elbows, entirely in his element, made the pain feel a little less sharp.
When Leo returned, he handed Jason a steaming mug that smelled faintly of peppermint. “Careful, it’s hot. I don’t need you adding burned tongue to your list of ailments.”
Jason took a cautious sip. Warmth spread through him, soothing against the cramp in his stomach. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” Leo said, settling back beside him. He pulled Jason’s free hand into his own and fiddled absently with his fingers. “You know, you don’t have to act tough around me. You don’t have to act tough at all, actually. That’s kind of the point of having a boyfriend. I’m here to pick up the slack when the invincible son of Jupiter is felled by bad meatballs.”
Jason huffed a laugh, though it came out weak. “You make it sound so heroic.”
“Oh, it is. Trust me.” Leo puffed out his chest dramatically. “Future generations will tell the tale of how the great Leo Valdez bravely fetched tea for his ailing boyfriend and banished the evil stomachache with the power of love and sarcasm.”
Jason’s laugh was real this time, though it quickly dissolved into another groan. He pressed the mug against his stomach, letting the heat sink in.
Leo frowned, his joking edge slipping. “Seriously, though. Does it feel bad enough that we should call Will? I mean, I don’t think this is monster poison, but you never know. Chiron’s gonna kill me if I let you keel over in my workshop.”
“No,” Jason said firmly, shaking his head. “It’s not that serious. Just…give me a while.”
Leo studied him, weighing the answer. Jason knew that look. Leo had a habit of disguising his worry with humor, but when it came to people he cared about, he could see right through excuses.
Finally, Leo sighed. “Okay. But if you keel over, I’m dragging you there, no questions asked.” Jason nodded.
They sat like that for a while. Jason sipping tea, Leo leaning against him, the hum of magical machinery filling the quiet. At some point, Leo draped a blanket over Jason’s shoulders, muttering something about “big strong boyfriends who never remember to keep warm.” Jason was too tired to argue.
“Y’know,” Leo said after a stretch of silence, “when I used to picture dating, I didn’t think it would involve quite so much…caretaking. I thought it was more about, like, holding hands and maybe kissing behind the forge.”
Jason turned his head toward him, tired but fond. “Disappointed?”
Leo grinned, quick and bright. “Nah. It’s better. You let me see the parts of you no one else does. Even the parts that complain about bad sandwiches.”
Jason smiled faintly and squeezed Leo’s hand. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” Leo said softly, leaning his head against Jason’s shoulder. “But I’m your ridiculous.”
The ache in Jason’s stomach didn’t vanish, but it dulled, wrapped in warmth and peppermint tea and the steady comfort of Leo’s presence. For once, he let himself just lean into it, into the fact that he didn’t always have to be strong. Not when Leo Valdez was at his side, ready to make bad jokes, brew tea, and sit with him through the worst of it.
And maybe, Jason thought, that was the real kind of strength.