“the beating of your heart,” jercy, G — stellarverse
SO it’s probably very obvious, but i am obsessed with @stillneedsmorekissing ‘s stellarverse series. especially the les mis part. so. here we are.
(this is an interpolation of one of my favorite bits of stellarverse—percy kisses jason during closing night of their high school production of les mis. emotional crises ensue.)
after all the hugs and the tears and the flowers, percy finally makes his way back to the dressing rooms. they’ll take care of the costumes and equipment and sets tomorrow during strike. he takes off his costume and hangs it up and changes into comfy sweats and an old band shirt. he begins the painful process of removing his mic, peeling away the tape and what feels like a layer of skin and hair as he does. the rest of the cast and crew are long gone, already at the cast party. he starts taking off his stage makeup, cotton balls and remover in hand.
even with the sensory nightmare that is stage makeup and the lights and his costume and the mic belt, he still loves performing. he loves the rush of being up on stage, in front of hundreds of people, sharing this huge vulnerable part of himself. theater demands so much of him, of his feelings, his skills, his memory, that it’s so easy to be swept off his feet in the swirl of lights and music and forget himself in the moment––
oh god. he kissed jason. jason, the consummate professional, who was running off stage for his next cue. percy stopped him, grabbed his arm, and pulled him into a blazing kiss. it was enough to make jason break character for a moment—who wouldn’t?–pausing momentarily, dumbstruck, before racing upstage. percy didn’t follow him, of course. his blocking was to climb the barricade, grabbing the banner on the way, and he exactly as the blocking said he should. but he wanted to follow him.
normally, being on stage clears his racing thoughts, performing hitting that perfect peak of stimulation and challenge. but tonight was different. maybe he got a little too in character, letting his friendship with jason play out a little too real as enjolras and grantaire. it felt so right, so natural. let the wine of friendship never run dry.
there’s a knock at the dressing room door, pulling him out of his reverie. “percy? are you in there?”
“do you, uh, still need a ride to the cast party?”
percy pauses. “just taking my makeup off; i’ll be ready soon.”
jason walks in, face pink from the makeup wipes. probably.
“you look like you missed a spot.” he crosses the room in quick strides, pulling out a makeup wipe from the counter. he gently rubs at a spot on percy’s jaw.
“oh, and you’ve got some mic tape stuck in your hair…” jason reaches for the back of percy’s neck where a stray piece of tape has glued itself to the short hairs there.
“just rip it off. i don’t mind,” percy tells him, hoping he doesn’t notice the heat rising in his cheeks. jason grips the tape firmly and gives it a sharp tug, pulling off the tape along with a stripe of Percy’s hair.
percy gasps, partly because of the pain, and partly because he wasn’t expecting it to feel… like that.
jason’s eyes meet his own, full of worry. “did i hurt you?” he asks.
“never,” percy says with a small smile. jason is incredibly close, now. he can feel the warmth of jason’s body, and the memory of his fingers on his neck.
jason pauses. he swallows hard, not looking at percy. inhales like he wants to say something. but something never comes.
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