Work Text:
Three days after Percy Jackson stopped resembling a haunted blanket burrito, he realized his boyfriend was a liar.
Not a malicious liar.
Not even a particularly good liar.
Just a deeply suspicious, incredibly annoying, catastrophically hypocritical liar.
And Percy knew because Jason had blinked wrong.
That was it.
A single weird blink.
Most people would miss it.
Actually, all people would miss it.
Except Percy.
Because Percy noticed things.
Weird things.
Tiny things.
Especially about people he cared about.
Especially Jason.
Jason blinked differently when he was tired.
Held his shoulders tighter when he was stressed.
Rubbed the edge of his thumb against his palm when he was thinking too hard.
Adjusted his posture when he was trying to pretend something didn’t hurt.
And,
Most importantly,
Jason only blinked like THAT when he didn’t feel good.
Tiny pause.
Eyes squinting just slightly too long.
Like light hurt.
Like existing took effort.
Percy narrowed his eyes from across the apartment kitchen.
Attempting to solve the puzzle of ‘Jason Grace’s hidden details’
Jason looked up from making coffee.
“…why are you staring at me like that?”
“You blinked weird.”
Jason paused.
Then snorted.
“Okay.”
“No, seriously.”
“You realize that sounds insane.”
“You’re sick.”
Jason nearly dropped the mug.
“…what?”
“You’re sick.”
“No, I’m not.”
Percy pointed dramatically.
“Liar.”
Jason blinked.
Normally.
Too normally.
Suspiciously normally.
“You can’t diagnose illness from blinking.”
“Yes, I can.”
“You absolutely cannot.”
“Can too.”
Jason sighed with the long-suffering exhaustion of someone deeply familiar with Percy Jackson logic.
“Perce.”
“You’re doing the voice.”
“What voice?”
“The ‘Percy is being ridiculous but I secretly think he might be right’ voice.”
“I do not have a voice for that.”
“You absolutely have a voice for that.”
Jason pinched the bridge of his nose.
And-
Aha.
There.
Another thing.
Tiny wince.
Subtle.
Like his head hurt.
Percy sat up straighter.
“Oh my gods.”
“What?”
“You ARE sick.”
“I’m not.”
“You pinched your nose.”
“People pinch their nose.”
“You only do that when you have headaches.”
Jason froze.
A beat.
“…that’s unsettling.”
Percy crossed his arms triumphantly.
“I notice things.”
“You notice weird things.”
“You’re warm.”
Jason blinked.
“You’re six feet away.”
“Boyfriend intuition.”
“That’s not real.”
“Neither are centaurs and yet here we are.”
Jason opened his mouth.
Closed it.
“…okay, rude.”
Percy stood.
Jason immediately took one suspicious step backward.
“You are not touching my forehead.”
“Oh, so you admit there’s forehead-touching to be done?”
“No.”
“That was guilt.”
“That was not guilt.”
“You hesitated.”
“You overanalyze everything.”
Percy gasped dramatically.
“I have ADHD. It’s called pattern recognition.”
“You’re weaponizing neurodivergence.”
“You’re weaponizing denial.”
Jason sighed.
Then immediately coughed into his elbow.
Once.
Tiny.
Contained.
Percy froze.
Jason froze.
Silence.
Slowly, Percy pointed.
“…Jason.”
“It was one cough.”
“Oh my gods.”
“One cough.”
“You are SICK!”
“I am fine.”
“You sound congested!”
“I literally don’t.”
“You literally do.”
Jason looked briefly offended.
“I have responsibilities.”
Percy stared.
Actually stared.
Then very slowly.
Very dramatically.
He put both hands on his hips.
“You.”
Jason immediately looked wary.
“Are being a HYPOCRITE.”
“I am not.”
“Oh really?”
Percy pointed accusingly.
“Three days ago I had a fever and you practically imprisoned me.”
“You had the flu.”
“And now you’re sick.”
“I have a mild headache.”
“You coughed!”
“One time!”
“You blinked weird!”
Jason groaned.
“That is not medical evidence.”
“It is for me.”
Jason grabbed his bag.
“Moot point. I have training.”
Percy moved instantly.
Like lightning.
Blocking the doorway.
Jason blinked.
“…Percy.”
“No.”
“Move.”
“No.”
“You are literally standing in front of the door.”
“Correct.”
“I have things to do.”
Percy narrowed his eyes.
“You told me, and I quote, ‘You’re allowed to need taking care of.’”
Jason visibly regretted every life choice that had brought him here.
“That feels manipulative.”
“Oh, now you don’t like emotional honesty?”
“Percy.”
“Nope.”
Percy crossed his arms.
“You made me drink gross medicine.”
“It helped.”
“You wrapped me in six blankets.”
“You were cold.”
“You carried me to bed!”
“You nearly fell asleep standing.”
“You kissed my forehead!”
Jason paused.
“…that one sounds less bad.”
Percy pointed harder.
“My point is: if I had to rest, you have to rest.”
Jason sighed.
“I genuinely feel fine.”
Percy stared.
Then deadpanned:
“I said that exact sentence while actively burning alive on our couch.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I’m me.”
Percy blinked.
Then burst out laughing.
“Oh my gods, you really hear yourself and think ‘yes, this is reasonable’.”
Jason crossed his arms.
“I can still function.”
“You’re swaying.”
“I am not.”
Percy pointed.
“You just leaned on the counter.”
“That’s called standing.”
“That’s called fatigue.”
Jason sighed through his nose.
“You are impossible.”
“You created this.”
“What?”
“You took care of me too well.”
Jason frowned.
“…what does that mean?”
“It means,” Percy said dramatically, “I’m emotionally attached now.”
Jason’s expression softened despite himself.
“That was supposed to convince me?”
“Yes.”
“It kind of worked.”
“Aha.”
“But I still have things to do.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Percy.”
“Jason.”
“Waterboy.”
“Lightning Boy.”
Jason pinched the bridge of his nose again.
Percy gasped.
“HEADACHE.”
“Oh my gods.”
“Bed.”
“No.”
“Couch.”
“No.”
“Blanket imprisonment.”
“You’re terrifying.”
“You taught me well.”
Jason stared.
Long pause.
Then muttered:
“This is karmic punishment.”
“Absolutely.”
Percy marched over.
Jason immediately backed up again.
“You’re weirdly aggressive about caretaking.”
“You were aggressive first.”
“I was responsible.”
“You were bossy.”
“I was helping.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You’re dramatic.”
Percy stopped.
Narrowed his eyes.
Then,
Oh.
There it was.
Something tiny.
Almost invisible.
Jason’s hand shook slightly reaching for his coffee.
Just barely.
Enough that liquid sloshed.
Not normal.
Jason never shook.
Especially not in the morning.
Percy’s irritation vanished instantly.
“Oh.”
Jason blinked.
“What?”
“You really don’t feel good.”
The shift in Percy’s voice made Jason pause.
Less teasing.
More worried.
“I’m okay,” Jason said quieter.
Percy walked closer.
No jokes this time.
Just reached out.
Pressed the back of his hand against Jason’s forehead.
Jason started to protest.
Stopped.
Percy frowned.
“…you’re warm.”
“Probably just tired.”
“No.”
Percy looked up at him.
Actually concerned now.
“You’re warm and shaky and pretending really hard.”
Jason looked away.
Which-
Okay.
Definitely suspicious.
“Jason.”
Silence.
Then quieter:
“I don’t really have time to be sick.”
Percy’s chest hurt a little.
Because yeah.
He got that.
Too well.
Demigod thing.
Keep moving.
Keep functioning.
Ignore everything until it collapses.
Jason had spent years being responsible for everyone.
Of course he’d be terrible at letting someone care for him.
Percy softened immediately.
“You know what’s super annoying?”
Jason blinked.
“…what?”
“I’m going to use your own emotional speech against you.”
Jason looked confused.
Percy bumped their shoulders gently.
“You don’t have to earn someone staying.”
Jason went very still.
“…Percy.”
“Nope.”
“I literally said that to you.”
“And now I’m saying it back.”
Jason looked dangerously close to emotional discomfort.
Which meant Percy was absolutely winning.
“I hate when you’re right,” Jason muttered.
“You love when I’m right.”
“Incorrect.”
“You’re dating me.”
“Questionable decision-making.”
Percy grinned.
Then gently took Jason’s coffee away.
“Couch.”
Jason sighed.
“Kelp Head.”
“Mr. Pontifex Maximus.”
“You know that nickname sounds fake.”
“You sound fake.”
Jason looked tired enough not to argue.
Which honestly worried Percy more.
Jason always argued.
The fact he was just…droopy?
Bad sign.
Very bad sign.
“Okay,” Percy said, slipping into what Annabeth called his ‘alarmingly competent in emergencies' mode.
“You sit.”
Jason hesitated.
“I should-”
“Nope.”
“I have reports-”
“Nope.”
“Training-”
“Nope.”
“Percy-”
Percy pointed.
“You once told me healing counts as productive.”
Jason froze.
“…wow.”
“You said it!”
“You remembered that?”
“You made me soup.”
Jason blinked.
“…that mattered that much?”
Percy stared at him.
“Jason.”
Softly.
“You stayed.”
Something shifted in Jason’s face.
Small.
Vulnerable.
“Oh.”
Percy hated how surprised Jason still looked whenever someone cared.
It made something protective and sharp curl in his chest.
“Now,” Percy said firmly.
“Couch.”
This time Jason obeyed.
Mostly because he looked too tired to argue anymore.
The moment he sat down, Percy wrapped him in a blanket.
Jason looked personally betrayed.
“You mocked me for this.”
“Growth.”
“You’re evil.”
“You like me.”
Jason muttered something suspiciously close to ‘unfortunately’.
Percy grinned.
Then disappeared into the kitchen.
“You hungry?”
“No.”
“Cool, soup anyway.”
“You’re becoming unbearable.”
“You made me medicine tea.”
“You complained the entire time.”
“And still drank it!”
Jason leaned back against the couch with visible reluctance.
Like resting physically hurt.
Percy knew that feeling.
The weird guilt.
The twitchy need to do something.
So he sat beside him.
Close enough their shoulders touched.
“You can stop pretending,” Percy said quietly.
Jason looked over.
“I’m not pretending.”
“You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The fake okay thing.”
Jason looked offended.
“I don’t have a thing.”
“You absolutely have a thing.”
Percy nudged him gently.
“You get quieter.”
Jason paused.
“…I do?”
“Yeah.”
“You noticed that?”
Percy snorted.
“Jason, I know your tired face.”
“That’s mildly terrifying.”
“I know your stress face too.”
“Oh no.”
“And your worried face.”
“Oh gods.”
“And your ‘Percy is about to do something stupid’ face.”
“That one feels fair.”
Percy smiled a little.
Then quieter:
“I notice you.”
Jason went still.
The soft kind.
Not uncomfortable.
Just surprised.
“Oh.”
Percy shrugged.
“You’re my boyfriend.”
Like that explained everything.
Because to Percy?
It kind of did.
Jason looked at him for a long moment.
Then leaned sideways.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Until his head rested against Percy’s shoulder.
Percy immediately stopped functioning.
“…you voluntarily cuddled.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m making it weird.”
“You always make it weird.”
Percy wrapped an arm around him anyway.
Jason was warm.
Too warm.
Definitely sick.
Called it.
“You know,” Percy said smugly, “I was right.”
Jason groaned.
“You’re never letting this go.”
“Never.”
“Not once?”
“Absolutely not.”
Jason sighed dramatically.
“You’re the worst.”
“You’re dating me.”
“Again,” Jason muttered, eyes slipping shut, “questionable decision-making.”
Percy smiled.
Then leaned over.
Pressed a quick kiss to Jason’s forehead.
Jason blinked sleepily.
“…hey.”
“What?”
“You did the forehead thing.”
“Yeah.”
“…nice.”
Percy softened immediately.
Gods.
Sick Jason was unfair.
Too sleepy.
Too soft.
Way too easy to love.
“Get some sleep, Sparky.”
“You staying?”
Percy looked offended.
“Obviously.”
Jason relaxed instantly.
Like the answer mattered.
Like he’d actually wondered.
Percy tightened the blanket around him.
“You’re a hypocrite, by the way.”
“Still on that?”
“Forever.”
Jason huffed a tired laugh.
Then quietly:
“Thanks.”
Percy paused.
“For what?”
“Noticing.”
Something warm and aching settled in Percy’s chest.
Because yeah.
That tiny blink.
That little shake.
That weird pause.
Nobody else would’ve caught it.
But Percy did.
Because loving someone meant learning them.
Even the tiny things.
Especially the tiny things.
“You’re stuck with me,” Percy said finally.
Jason made a sleepy noise.
“Terrifying.”
“Shut up and rest.”
“…bossy.”
“You started it.”
And when Jason drifted off twenty minutes later, warm and exhausted against Percy’s side?
Well.
Percy definitely did NOT spend the next hour feeling unbearably smug about being right.
Not at all.