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Leo realizes something is wrong the moment he starts noticing Jason's hands.
Which is stupid. Completely, astronomically stupid.
They're just hands. Sure a little bigger, slightly callused from all the cool swordfighting and training but still, they're just hands. There isn't supposed to be anything special about them, pretty much everyone has them.
Except Leo finds himself often staring at him, not just his hands, him; Jason tightening a strap on his armor, the sunlight catching in his blond hair, that stupid lip scar he got from eating a stapler of all things.
Yeah, Leo is absolutely fucked. Feelings? Absolutely not. Not for him. He's already the seventh wheel, he doesn't need to have a crush on the golden boy on top of that to make things worse.
This is pathetic, he thinks to himself as he grabs a wrench and ducks halfway into an open panel in the engine room of the Argo II, just to give himself something to do. The engine is humming nicely, gears spinning like a happy little orchestra and usually, that's enough to keep him from overthinking.
Keyword, usually.
Jason walks up behind him moments later, "everything okay down there?" He asks, as any normal person would.
Leo bangs his head on one of the pipes above him, dropping his wrench in the process. As any completely normal person would when their best friend talks to them. "Yep—" He blurts out, voice cracking, "—fantastic! Love engines. Big fan of—uhh— metal."
Smooth. Real smooth.
Jason crouches beside him, peering into the machinery. Leo can feel the heat rising in his face and suddenly he's doing his best to keep his fingers from catching fire as he tinkers with the pipes.
"Did you hit your head?"
"Nope."
"You definitely did."
"I do it for fun. Adds character."
Jason laughs softly and that's the moment Leo realizes he's in serious trouble. Because he likes that laugh. Not in a "oh I said something funny and my friend liked it enough to laugh at it and it made me feel special" way. The kind of way that makes him hyper—aware of how close Jason is sitting.
Jason leans forward slightly, studying a gear, "you're amazing with this stuff," he says, "the ship wouldn't even exist without you."
Leo's brain shuts down. Because there it is again. That Jason thing where he says compliments like they're nothing. Like Leo isn't just some random guy he met on a school bus. Like he isn't just a seventh wheel, comic relief.
He tightens a bolt that was already tight, "yeah well," he says after a short pause, "someone had to make sure you wouldn't be swimming all the way to Greece." Jason lightly nudges his shoulder, "I'm serious." That's the problem, he always is.
Leo finally glances up as he climbs out of the panel and Jason is looking at him with that calm, steady expression, the one that makes people trust him with their lives. The same one he gives before charging into battle. Except now it's directed at Leo and suddenly, he understands something his brain has been trying very hard not to process; it's not admiration, it's not just friendship and it's not just jealousy of the golden-boy hero.
He's completely, hopelessly, disastrously in love with Jason Grace. Leo's wrench slips out of his hand, clattering across the floor. "You okay?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow. Leo sighs, staring at the ceiling of the ship for a moment, "yeah," he responds, his voice cracking despite his best efforts to keep it steady.
He sits up, grabs three random tools from his tool belt and immediately stands. "I have to go.. check another engine."
Jason blinks, "there isn't another engine."
"Sure there is," Leo says quickly, backing away. "Secret engine. Very secret. Top mechanic business." He turns and nearly runs down the corridor. Behind him, Jason calls out, confused; "Leo?"
Leo doesn't stop. Because his brain is currently screaming; "congratulations Valdez, you fell for the heroic lighting prince of the sky. This is fine. Everything is totally fine. Definitely not a catastrophic emotional situation."
He turns at the end of the hallway, booking it into the boiler room. Where there's definitely another engine.
He groans in frustration, pressing his forehead against the cool wall of the boiler room. Fantastic. This is just fantastic.
And somewhere, back in the engine room, Jason is probably still sitting there, wondering what just happened.