hear me out y’all…
…jason grace with long hair.
no but like imagine—
it’s wavy, knots easily, and it turns into literal frizz if he brushes it out dry, but it’s still soft and people (people being nico, hazel, and eventually percy, and i’ll explain why them specifically later on) will have jace lean down, bend over, and/or sit/lay down so they can use his wild mane as a pillow or run their tired, calloused fingers through it.
they always ask for permission, and he almost always says yes, partly because he’s slightly (hugely, insanely) touch starved, partly because he’s the Biggest Softie since he simply can’t resist them. but on the days that he just can’t accept, on the days that even the thought of foreign hands going anywhere near his messy locks makes him want to bare his teeth and cry at the same time, they let him braid or fuss with their hair instead.
sometimes he’ll straighten it, and when he does, it covers his face and drapes over his shoulders like a curtain, which drives most of the people he interacts with insane and makes them ask if they could touch his hair, subsequently leading them to gently, oh so carefully, tuck his hair behind his ear. they’ll light up in delight at finally being able to see his shy smile and bright eyes where there had previously only been golden hair, and then their relieved grins will morph into something mock-scolding as they ask why the hell he even bothers to straighten his hair if he won’t pin it back himself. he never replies, usually ends up diverting the conversation to something else.
they don’t know that he uses the flat iron (and allows his hair to naturally shield his face, not bothering with putting it up) now solely so they’ll end up touching him Like That (every nanosecond that passes by of them warmly sifting through his hair and brushing against his cheek and ear he cherishes deeply, the memories taking up a dear place in his heart, his very soul.)
anyway, back to the people that routinely play with his hair -
nico: nico has always had long hair, but he’s never really thought about it as “long” or “tousled” or any other kind of descriptor because he didn’t care much for his hair. it was just another thing he had to look after just so it wouldn’t fall off or become too long for him to manage. jason changed that point of view. it was only a few weeks after gaea that jason began to grow his hair out, flashes of before he was found by the legion and forced to conform to all their rules, including the cutting of his hair, would appear behind his eyelids and at one point he just thought, “why not?” and stopped cutting it except for the healthy trims that were necessary.
then one day, nico comes back from a rather grueling day of being Hades’ little messenger and comes across jason at camp half blood with nose-length, wind-fussed, wavy hair, and he has to pause because his best friend just looked so…rugged and cute and human, and it is the biggest temptation in the world to just reach up and touch what he was so used to seeing as short and only got close to falling over the blonde’s brow.
but he resists and simply asks jason what’s up with his hair. jason smiles widely, so happy that nico asked about it that he reaches down and places nico’s hand on top of his head. he immediately lets go of nico’s hand, as if he had been burned, and sheepily says, “sorry i touched you without asking. i got excited, and i won’t do it again. anyway, feel it! it’s soft, and it’s the longest it’s been in over a decade! isn’t it cool??”
nico just stands there, shocked, mouth opening and closing, his brain “error 404”ing as he processes what just happened before he hesitantly starts softly moving his fingers through jason’s hair and scritching at his scalp. it’s then that jason’s eyes roll back as he simply melts where he’s standing, his head tilting wherever nico’s fingertips venture. nico, once he notices jason’s puppy-like pleasure, just shakes his head (shaking himself out of his momentary stupor) and grins lopsidedly, his brow raising.
“you’re such a dork, you know that, Grace? gods, why am i even friends with you?” he says, that last sentence instinctively uttered before his brain could catch up with his mouth. then he freezes, his hand paused where it was working through a small knot on jason’s head, as he realizes that was the first time he called jason his friend. jason, on the other hand, doesn’t freeze at all, and actually whines when it registers that he’s not getting scratches anymore. nico melts as much as jason has and subtly breathes out a sigh of relief at the fact that jason hadn’t protested at being called his friend or said anything about it at all. he smiles in the way that he only does with will, his sister, and his friend (his big broth-): jason.
after that, jason’ll continue to have nico pet him whenever they cross paths or whenever they have the time to hang out, and a little while after that nico will have worked up the courage to say to jason, “head scratches?” as soon as they’re within touching distance, and he doesn’t even bat an eye the times that jason will shake his head and ask for some other kind of physical touch.
flash forward to months later, and nico is hit with the realization that because of how much he cares for and plays with jason’s hair, he’s come to see his own as something just as precious, but he finds he doesn’t mind, and goes back to styling his hair however which way he subconsciously was going to.
hazel: back when jason had first joined the fifth cohort, jason had been jaded and unhappy from all the meetings he had had with the higher ups about him becoming praetor and joining the first cohort without any effort on his part only because of his parentage, and he had tried to be there for his new partners and roommates, but his heart wasn’t in it. everyone could see that, had seen jason deny all the chances he had to be spoon fed things to him for simply being the son of jupiter, and had steered clear of him, but not hazel. in the weeks that he had been distant from the fifth cohort, his hair had become unkempt, and because all those with authority were also steering clear of him, they hadn’t bothered to pester him about his hair, but hazel secretly enjoyed such a thing.
one night she had offered to braid his hair for him, and it was the first time in a while he had even taken note of his wild locks. he agreed, a shaky smile curling his lips and an intensely disappointed look in his eye. hazel then situated herself behind him and began sectioning out and separating the waves, the strands like liquid gold in her hands and the thought making a small nugget of gold sprout near her crossed legs, which manages to make jason’s smile a bit more full of life, along with the feeling of hazel’s sure hands working through his neglected hair.
they spend hours over the course of many years just going through each other’s hair, and beyond their hair bonding they don’t talk much or interact much, so their relationship status stays officially at that of acquaintance, and when jason disappears, hazel finds herself absently messing with her hair in the same way jason did unconsciously whenever she got nervous or frazzled or simply needed comfort. she never confronted those feelings, those cravings of having her “acquaintance”’s hands working through her coiling curls while he was gone for all that time.
it was once they were reunited on the argo II that she nervously approached him and talked to him of before, the nights wasted away as they were comfortably enveloped in a bubble of contentedness, of safety, of comfort. jason felt so horrible about not being able to remember those nights, as they sounded like everything he could ever want (he could ever need), and he tells hazel so as he waves to his short hair, but hazel just smiles reassuringly and carefully brings out a hand-sized container full of wonderfully-smelling leave-in-conditioner. she murmurs to him in his empty, cold cabin that maybe his hands will remember their sacred journey through her dark curls, and offers the container to him.
jason finds himself accepting, the atmosphere weirdly calm and settling and familiar as hazel situates herself on the bed in the same spot she always did, her eyes closed, her body positioned as it always was. jason instinctively finds himself filling an empty cup with warm water and arranges himself behind hazel in the way he always did, and he covers his hands in the water and leave-in-conditioner, and livens up and plays with and braids and un-braids hazel’s hair in a way that speaks to him of experience, of a home that he can’t remember. was this girl that he didn’t know, that was a stranger to him now, and from what he’s heard, a stranger before, his home?
such a thought punches the air out of his lungs, and he spends a lot of their time together for the rest of that night contemplating and wondering and having a couple mini-crises about it. the next night, however, when she’s knocking at his door with more hair supplies, a few for what little hair he himself has, he’s decided by then that it doesn’t matter if she was his home before. if they both enjoy it, the silence and the reassurance and the familiarity and the warmth, then she can be his home now.
hazel doesn’t even ask the first time when she sees his chin-length hair after the war. she just smiles, a glint in her eye that has more flashes popping up behind his eyes, touches a few of her fingers to the tips of his waves, and then leads him to the hades cabin. their bubble is already enshrouding them, and jason finds himself trailing after his home as she leads him to where their new routine of comfort will take place.
percy: during gaea’s quest, percy and jason, at first (at first meaning after their forced fight, not their first ever interactions), had been wary of each other and had just opted to steer clear of each other except for when they had to keep watch with one another, had to fight a few monsters, and had to collaborate during meetings. other than that? nothing. they were basically coworkers that secretly admired and hated the other for their strengths and the things the other had that they didn’t, but it all came to a point when percy found jason on the top deck of the ship, in the middle of the night, his jammies barely keeping the cold out and the air carrying the scent of the sea, just on some random day of the week. nightmares and blurry visions were keeping him up lately, and on the nights that he couldn’t be bothered to try and go back to sleep, he would attempt to calculate the right times to go above the main floor where he could be alone to gaze up at the stars.
jason was there, sitting up with a blanket covering his curled up legs, his hair in his hands, which was…insanely and fairly suddenly long. percy blinked where he stood there awkwardly, confusion running through his veins as he tilted his head.
weird, was all he could think, at the sight of jason having ridiculously long hair when just earlier that day it had barely flopped over his forehead. jason sensed there was another person on the deck with him and looked back, and percy sucked in a sharp breath at seeing jason’s curious and almost elated expression lit up by the moonlight, an ocean breeze ruffling through his golden locks and making it flap and curl around his pretty face. he smiled slightly - his scar pulling - at seeing the intruder on whatever moment he was having was percy, and he whispered for him to come closer.
percy, even more confused jason wasn’t being cautious or hostile towards him like he usually was, just blinked some more before his feet were carrying him forward against his will. he sat down next to jason, and when he turned to face him, jason reached out for percy’s hand. he paused, that slight smile still twisting his lips pleasantly and his light locks catching on his button nose.
“can i touch you?” he mumbled, his eyes calmly searching percy’s befuddled own. percy simply nodded, his vocal cords, for some reason, and for the first time since, well, ever, not working. jason’s smile widened almost knowingly, as if he knew that percy’s words were caught on his tongue, where they could not pass through his teeth. he softly took percy’s hand into his before settling it in his long, long waves, the blonde locks peeking through percy’s tan fingers and coating the teen’s hands in moonlight-dipped white.
“monster got the jump on me. said it would restore a torturous piece of my past, but my gut is telling me that only good can come from me having long hair. i’ve since been up here, thinking. and i’m sorry. for all the things that i’ve said and thought about you. you, in many ways, are who i wish i could be, and i suppose that’s made me bitter towards you. no excuse, though, for the way i’ve treated you.” jason guides percy’s hands through his pale hair, the strands fluttering at his ministrations and wrapping around his palm as if the blonde’s hair wished for him to never let go. eventually, jason’s hand dropped - percy’s staying where it was slowly working through blonde waves - the silence full of a hand combing through hair and a mouth that so desperately wanted to admit to the same things that had already been said, but for some reason just couldn’t.
jason, knowing and understanding and amazingly, didn’t mind at all, pressed a hand to percy’s chest, where his heart was beating a bit faster than it normally would. then he smiled.
“i’m not good at silence. silence means hidden meanings, hints, subtleties, and i’m never any good at the things that aren't explicitly said. but I can clearly see that you want to apologize and explain yourself as well, that you want to relate to me and say you get it, more than anyone else would, so it’s okay. you can stop trying. tell me tomorrow, or the day after that, or the week after that. whenever you’re ready.”
percy smiled weakly, as jason so clearly laid out what percy was desperate to get past his stubborn mouth, and he found himself more passionately working through jason’s hair, his awe at how…chill jason was when he wasn’t in leader mode and glaring daggers at percy’s more vulnerable spots shining through his eyes. he found that his need to tell jason that he wanted to be able have a real, extensive conversation about all their grievances and grudges with one another so intense that it burned within him. jason just shook his head, said, “later,” and brushed his own hand through percy’s hair absently.
percy found he was grateful towards this 16 year old who just…got percy way too much for all that they were supposed to be rivals, and he also found himself understanding jason, a little.
the next day jason and percy, after they had gone over some plans at breakfast and had gotten some food in them, had had a long day full of explanations and rants and complaints and a bit of shouting and crying, but it was worth it when the night after that they had had the opportunity to play with each other’s hair, jason’s back to normal, somehow, and percy’s it’s usual charming mess, with nothing between them but comprehension, the sort that spoke of new beginnings and a few happy endings that they would quietly come up with as they looked up at the stars, each other’s hands buried deep in their respective blonde and black locks.
once gaea had been defeated, percy easily noticed how hazel and nico would meet up with jason and touch his hair or him in general as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and he found himself approaching his friend at some point about it, curious about what it all meant.
jason simply said that they understood, like percy did, but only when it came to his hair.
such an explanation only made sense to percy, who smiled wickedly and flicked a piece of jason’s hair before asking sarcastically if he could be let in the loop.
jason then looked at him quizzically, that settling sense of home he now got with hazel and nico rushing through him and whispering to percy, who felt a bit unsure about it. “let in the loop? but you’re already in it,” jason had said, confusion scrunching up his nose which made percy boop it. jason spluttered, but his indignant squawks were quieted instantly when percy put a hand in jason’s hair. he smiled gently as he brushed through the sleek, straight strands, and quietly he asked, “if i’m in the loop, then, could i stay?”
jason smiled up at percy dopily - percy had to stifle a laugh at the sight, fondness scraping at his insides - and simply said in response, “were you not planning on staying?”
and percy never left after that, his hands constantly combing through thick, blonde waves, of which left phantom feelings on his sword-conditioned hands that always had him scrambling for more.
p.s. that day where jason and percy talked things out? and jason had long hair? you best bet hazel got to play with it while they were in their bubble later that night, and jason was so happy that they could have This, for however long the monster's spell would last. he was deeply saddened that it didn’t last long at all.
