#percico microfic

[percicomicrofic]

prompt: turn

write a percico fic in 50 words (or however many you want!) based on the prompt and tag @percicomicrofic so we can see and share your work! art, edits, etc also welcome!

[aarbeaz]

@percicomicrofic | prompt: SURVIVE | wordcount: 1,597

༄༄༄

Percy Jackson opens the door of his house to the scent of McDonald's Big Macs and French fries. For a second he is in heaven. Then he remembers he feels like he’s gotten run over by a bus.

He is greeted by the sight of Nico di Angelo curled up on the couch, an arm thrown over his face as he sleeps, like he can’t even bother about basic hygiene. Nico looks exhausted even asleep, clad in sweatpants and some ratty band t-shirt marked with days-old sweat stains near the armpits. Whatever space is unoccupied by Nico’s sleeping form is covered in old McDonald’s food wrappers and empty Red Bull cans. An open notebook littered with scrawling notes is carefully arranged in front of him, stained by… week-old sauce? Lettuce slides out of the half-eaten burger in his hand.

As Percy walks in, Nico jolts awake, dropping the burger. He anxiously looks at Percy like he’s expecting some kind of monster, and for a second, neither of them said anything. Nico's dark eyes go wide, then narrow, then do a fast, clinical, sweeping stare down to the spreading dark stain near Percy's hipbone.

He shifts himself into a vaguely sitting position and wipes the drool off his mouth. Awake, the dark circles around his eyes look more pronounced. As he cards a hand through his hair, it sticks up at the end, making him look a bit manic.

"Percy." His voice is hoarse.

"Baby," Percy smiles, then winces as he feels blood dripping down his chin again.

After a few shocked seconds, Nico sweeps a few empty wrappers onto the ground and shifts so Percy can sit, and Percy almost falls onto the couch, multiple "ouch, shit, not there"s streaming out of his mouth as he shifts into a position that doesn’t obliterate all his nerve-endings in one go. 

He can feel the couch dip as Nico gets up but is too tired to say anything about it.

Percy is sure he looks like a disaster - with mottled bruises decorating his face, dried blood pooling at the neck of his shirt from the split lip that keeps reopening despite the copious amounts of ambrosia he’s been hogging on, pain throbbing and bubbling under his skin like vengeance personified. The fact that he’s even awake for this long is a disgusting last effort of willpower, motivated only by his gut-twisting desire to see Nico. His boyfriend.

Percy really, really wants to stay awake and kiss Nico and talk to him or something after being apart for so long. But he can’t help it. Even despite his uncomfortable and inelegant face-down position on the sofa, he can slowly feel his body relaxing. Nico is close to him now, and sleep is closer…

He is shocked into alertness when Nico keeps a few glass bottles on the coffee table. Rubbing his eyes vigorously, he allows Nico to shift him into a vaguely sitting position. 

Nico silently offers him a piece of ambrosia, but Percy signals that he’s eaten it already.

"Get your shirt off," Nico says instead, dipping cotton balls in antiseptic from the glass bottles he’d procured.

"Damn, baby, so eager to see me?" Percy grins, but manages to unstick the blood-stained shirt from his body.

Nico rolls his eyes, the sleepy panic now fading to a more reserved and angrier expression.

"Where does it hurt the most?"

Percy silently points at the laceration on his hipbone still leaking blood. 

Nico doesn’t even give him a warning when he starts cleaning the area with the antiseptic; he only leaves Percy to yelp unimpressively. He doesn’t even stop to let Percy adjust to the pain - just keeps cleaning aggressively, almost as if he doesn’t care about the wound. Nico has always been better with medicine and bandages out of the two, and while he is still delicate, this clumsiness is very uncharacteristic.

“Nico, what’s wrong - ah,” Percy breaks off as Nico accidentally swipes a little too hard across the wound.

Nico doesn’t answer, but gives him an unimpressed glare.

Nico leans in closer to see the smaller cuts, gentler this time. His nose almost touches Percy’s chest, breath flitting in irregular puffs that tickle him. Despite the amount of pain coursing through his body, Percy smiles his widest smile of the night and cards his hand through Nico's hair,

When Nico turns to grab more cotton balls, Percy grips Nico's wrist, and he gasps and turns. Percy drags Nico's finger to the middle of his chest, enjoying the blush that slowly creeps up his neck.

"Hurts here too."

Nico immediately starts inspecting the area. "There's nothing there, what hurts?"

"My heart is there, and it aches for you," Percy grins loopily.

He thought Nico would smile or blush as he always does when Percy says something cheesy, but he just gives Percy a flat look.

"This is the part where you say something snarky in return, you know," Percy prompts expectantly, massaging the insides of Nico's wrists with his thumbs. Nico abruptly pulls his hands away.

"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to disappear on some quest without calling. For ten days straight! Yes, I freaking counted!"

Nico's voice rises up at the end, the vaguely indifferent mask slipping for a second to reveal downturned lips and knit eyebrows bracketing dark eyes filled with manic anger and exhaustion before he schools it back into calm, stoic, practical Nico.

"Sorry," he mutters through gritted teeth and goes back to cleaning Percy's wounds.

Percy sighs.

Being a demigod is a dangerous profession, even more so for the rare adult ones like him and Nico. Keeping contact on the never-ending spontaneous quests is vital, and he and Nico had always had the rule that if either of them disappeared without notice, they would call each other at least once every three days. But Percy had run out of drachmas on the trip and by time he'd gotten the whole 'hooray for saving Olympus' spiel from the gods, he was more concerned with getting home to his lover.

He gently moves the bandages from Nico's hand. Ignoring both Nico's bewildered expression and the pain in his chest, he scoops Nico up in his arms and drops him in his lap. Nico yelps surprisedly, and tries his best to struggle against Percy’s hold - which is half-hearted anyway, considering Nico can and has beaten him in multiple fights, but then finally relents.

A stray strand of hair falls directly in Nico's eyes and Percy gently tucks it behind his ear.

"I'm sorry."

Nico responds with his signature angry glare.

"Percy, seriously, you're going to get an infection if I don't clean - "

Percy snakes his arms around Nico’s waist and pulls him closer, interrupting him. Nico huffs and doesn’t say anything, but the burning blush on his cheeks speaks volumes.

"How much did you sleep?"

"How much did you sleep?" Nico retorts, but looks at Percy’s expression, bites his lip and mumbles something unintelligible.

"What?"

"One hour! Okay? Every day for a week. I was trying to find you," his voice dwindles off into a mumble.

An irregular beat.

"...Okay. And how much did you eat?"

Nico helplessly spreads his arms to gesture at the old McDonalds wrappers.

"I didn't throw it away."

Percy doesn't know whether to feel concerned or loved that Nico can ruin himself so much on his behalf.

"I'm sorry. I should have called."

"Yeah, you should have,” Nico says grumpily. He doesn’t relax into Percy’s hold till he starts peppering his neck with feather-light kisses. Nico shudders and slowly rests his head into the crook of Percy’s neck.

“No one knew where you were,” Nico whispers, voice cracking a little at the end. “I thought - you - “

“Well, how about this, baby?” Percy whispers back right into Nico’s ear, one hand stroking his hair, and Nico shivers bodily. “I promise you, I will always come back to you. I’ll survive anything if it means I get to see you again.”

Nico turns to stare at him, and Percy can see his widened eyes, his diluted pupils. He gulps, blush rising furiously to the tips of his ears. Then he shakes his head and the moment disappears.

“Well, how about you just call me next time, Percy Jackson?”

Percy laughs, and Nico smiles at him. “That, too.”

Nico leans in close and finally, finally kisses him slowly, gently, like he’s still afraid Percy’s going to go away. But Percy has waited too long to kiss Nico again and this fragility doesn’t satiate him. Percy roughly pushes Nico’s jaw against his and Nico gasps into the kiss, arms curving around his neck.

Suddenly, Nico jostles against Percy’s barely-closed wound and his vision blackens for an agonizing second. He breaks off from Nico, much to his own chagrin, with barely suppressed agony.

Nico scrambles off his lap and presses fresh gauze against his abdomen to staunch the bloodflow, and slowly, the pain dwindles.

“Maybe I should just take care of you first,” Nico says, going back to bandaging Percy.

“Maybe,” Percy says. "Then we can have a shower together and eat something that isn't McDonald's."

Nico quirks an eyebrow. "Really? Together? Aren't you getting a little excited there?"

"What?" Percy shrugs. "It's been two weeks. I missed you."

"You're impossible," Nico says exasperatedly, but Percy can hear the smile in his voice. "I love you."

"I love you too," Percy says contentedly, resting his head on the back of the couch, glad that he’s finally home.

[percicomicrofic]

write a percico fic in 50 words (or however many you want!) based on the prompt and tag @percicomicrofic so we can see and share your work! art, edits, etc also welcome!

[theobjectlesson]

💀 for @percicomicrofic | prompt: TEASE | word count: 730ish | universe: post-canon | warnings: suggestive, light exhibitionism

The music is so loud it almost drowns out Nico's thoughts, frenetic rhythm fighting against his heartbeat. He tries to watch the set for a few bars - Percy's favorite bands always have at least one guy who really resents being told how he's supposed to play his instrument, and this time it's the bassist and his furiously picked downstrokes. Then someone jostles Nico from behind, and Percy tightens his possessive grip on Nico's arm around his waist. Nico laughs, but it's strained. He might not be everybody's cup of tea in the rest of the world, but at these shows he tends to be someone's whole pot, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy watching Percy get worked up about it - but right now he's got other stuff on his mind.

"This would be a lot easier if you were wearing a skirt," is all he said, the last time they were here. He hadn't meant anything by it, it just came out, when his brain was otherwise occupied by blinding want and making sure no one else had noticed the way he was feeling Percy up through his jeans. Beyond being shocked, mortified, and desperately turned on at the memory, Nico hadn't thought about the off-hand comment since. He wishes he had - then maybe he would've been prepared.

Like anything could've prepared him for Percy walking through the front door of the venue in a skirt.

This is a terrible time to talk about it, but Nico can feel it like a sixth sense and patience is not his strong suit. He pulls Percy in tighter, and Percy turns his head just enough to get his mouth to Nico's ear.

"What's up?"

His voice is so maddeningly relaxed and goddammit, Percy, how do you do that?

"You know I wasn't saying you should wear -"

Nico immediately winces because that didn't come out right at all, he wasn't trying to say that Percy shouldn't -

"I know," Percy says, voice easy even through Nico's Loops, probably because Percy's mouth might as well be Nico's ear canal. He breathes out, thankful for how Percy tends to know what he means even if he doesn't say it right. Benefit of knowing each other for over a decade before they started having sex, probably.

Not to say there aren't still surprises...

"You weren't wrong though," Percy adds, and Nico can feel the smile against his ear, "easier access, right?"

Nico doesn't have enough blood in his body for this. He already didn't have enough for the way the need to touch Percy burns through him sometimes, the way knowing Percy wants him to sears the insecurity and embarrassment and concern about being in public right out of him. So now that Percy's leaning into his chest, bare up to mid-thigh where tan skin disappears under pleated leather and steel o-rings? Not a fucking chance.

Nico finally lets his other hand slide down to the hemline by Percy's hip, feeling out the stitching and grommets with his fingers. The leather is really soft, warm to the touch from where it's been against Percy's skin in the heat of the crowd. It's thick, and high quality, expensive. Serious.

"Do you like it?"

And there, now Nico can hear it - the faintest hint of a nerve in Percy's voice. The anxious lilt in the question giving away how much he cares about the answer. It makes Nico smile every time, because Percy will kick in a door and roll through a packed bar in Brooklyn in a cut-off and a skirt like he's still invincible, but when his voice is only for Nico's ears, it's like Percy's made entirely of vulnerable spots, and nothing makes Nico lose his sense of self - or maybe find it - like seeing them.

"Do I like - ? Percy."

He pushes his smile into the junction of Percy's neck, teeth testing the give of the muscle.

"Have you seen yourself? Of course I like it."

Percy shivers, and maybe they don't have to talk about it after all. Maybe this is more of a demonstration thing. So he pushes his hand under the fabric and there's another benefit of that decade-long wait - being the same height makes a lot of things easier.

Just not as easy as the skirt.

[aarbeaz]

@percicomicrofic | prompt: FOG | wordcount: 1, 648 | warning: this is mature for allusions to domestic violence, mentions/slight descriptions of toxic relationships, mature language, and some slight descriptions of NSFW acts. proceed at your own discretion.

༄༄༄

Percy Jackson had been in a car crash a few weeks ago.

It wasn't anything serious. A sleepy truck driver accidentally bumped into the rear of his car, and although Percy didn't get hurt except for a few scratches, the rear of his car was entirely totaled.

If someone asks him how he felt during those moments, Percy wouldn't be able to describe it. He doesn't really remember the fuzzy details about what he was feeling. Only that it was a foggy night and his car's taillights weren't working. Not the jerk against the windshield. Not those few moments where he thought he was going to die as the car skidded across the rain-soaked asphalt, and the only thing he could think about was that he hadn't even brushed his teeth in the morning.

What he does remember vividly, though, is going to the car insurance company a week later and seeing a different kind of car crash there. One with shockingly black hair, leather jackets, cigarette smoke curling off him almost cinematically as he leaned against the railing of the stout building's balcony. Percy couldn't move. Very cliché, he knows, but even then the guy had completely arrested Percy's emotions.

"Cigarette?" the guy had asked with a grating whisper when he noticed Percy staring at him too long.

And Percy really didn't know what had compelled him to say it, but he responded with: "You don't look like the type to get car insurance."

"Why?" the guy smirked, and Percy really thinks it should be illegal for some people to be this hot. "You think goths can't live responsibly?"

A laugh yanked its way out of Percy as he accepted the cigarette, forcing himself to stare out into the bleak view of cars honking in the street under the office balcony when all he wanted to do was stare at this incomprehensible beauty.

"No. Just that you look..."

He watched the guy take a long inhale from the cigarette and let the puffs of smoke engulf him.

"Look what?"

"Lonely."

The guy turned his full body to Percy, showing off the spiky leather belt and those tall black boots and that stupid half-smile and gorgeous black eyes.

He quirked an eyebrow, and Percy wanted to die. "You're not smooth."

"Wasn't trying to be."

"Loving the enthusiasm."

Which Percy later realizes is a genuine statement and not one of his signature satirical comments as Percy goes down on him like this is his first time seeing a dick when they're back at his apartment. The guy tries not to moan but gives up when the orgasm wrecks through him, eyes rolling into his head, hand clutching painfully onto Percy's hair like a lifeline, back arching against the bed.

"I'm Percy," he murmurs against the guy's sticky thighs as he shudders, coming down from his high.

"Nico," he pants, and Percy barely catches it when the guy - no, Nico - pulls him up by the hair to meet his lips. He tries not to get lost in that addictive taste of nicotine and lingering cigarette smoke he finds at the back of Nico's teeth.

And, much like Percy's previous ventures, it does not work. He is incapable of having casual hookups, so of course he has to exchange numbers, and of course Nico has to message him almost weekly with locations in dingy hotels and crappy bars with fog machines. And of course those casual hookups have to turn into giving each other nicknames and Nico bringing sushi over when he's sick and wasting hours just talking because time is too slippery when it comes to spending time with each other. And that has to somehow turn into Percy lying on the floor of his living room trying not to die because he realized he's in love with Nico di Angelo on a random Tuesday evening months after the car crash.

But the thing about car crashes is that they were always meant to be spur-of-the-moment things. You cannot build a relationship with a car crash, you cannot fall in love with little more than fog curling your feet, yet somehow it hadn't occurred to Percy when he would pretend Nico didn't smile at his phone like a giddy teenager in love, texting someone who was indiscreetly not him, pretend he didn't know why Nico would always choose inconspicuous hole-in-the-wall places for meeting up as if he wasn't trying to hide Percy from someone else.

Now, though, it comes together almost like a soap opera - and not a very inventive one at that - in one of those dingy pubs with smelly fog machines Nico takes Percy out for drinks to.

Because just as Percy kissed him and was about to tell Nico he loves him, he feels a hand pull him away from Nico's addictive nicotine-coated lips, hiss out 'you fucking bastard' and land a punch on Percy. Pain flares through Percy, and in that moment all he knows he has to do is fight.

He clenches his fists, about to land a punch on this random blonde guy, when he feels Nico's tight grip on his bicep and his impassioned cries.

"Stop it, Will!" he screeches.

Percy turns to look at Nico and tries not to be shocked at the amount of emotion just spilling out of it. Nico has always preferred showing his love in actions rather than words, which is how Percy knows something is viscerally wrong when he's been driven to so much unabashed feeling.

"You know him?" he asks incredulously.

The blonde bastard - Will, apparently - lets out a guttural, mirthless laugh.

"Know him? I'm his fucking boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?"

There.

That word.

That is the exact moment Percy remembers exactly how his car crash had felt like.

Fucking hell.

"Will, please. Just let me - let me explain. I'm sorry, I - just give me a minute, please?" Nico's voice is soft and pleading like he's never heard it before, so different from his Nico, the Nico that would yell and insult but never beg, never crack, never take shit from anyone like this.

Surprisingly, Will listens and walks all the way over to the other end of the pub.

Percy turns to Nico, trying his best not to let the tears fall, because somehow crying in front of Nico is worse than crying in front of the concerningly invested audience in the pub.

"You have a boyfriend."

"Yeah." Nico cannot meet his eyes. His voice has gone back to disinterested apathy.

"When we had sex the first time, you had a boyfriend."

"Yeah."

"When you would come over with sushi when I was sick and let me call you my cheesy nicknames as if you would ever let me love you, you had a boyfriend."

"I think you know the answer already by now."

The problem is, Percy's known from the first time they were together. But that doesn't make it hurt any less.

"I was going to tell you that I love you," Percy says because he hates himself and doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut.

Nico looks up sharply. His gaze flicks towards Will across the room, who is still glowering at the two of them.

"I've always told you I can't love you back."

"Yeah, and I thought you still needed time or something, not that you were cheating on your boyfriend with me!"

"I love him," Nico clarifies, and Percy tries not to let that break his heart. It doesn't work. He can almost hear himself falling apart, like glass tumbling down, and he hopes it doesn't show on his face. "I can't love you because I love Will."

"Not enough to stay loyal to him, apparently," Percy sneers, and this is the first time since meeting Will that he's seen Nico look at him with anything other than bored dissociation.

"He cheats on me, too," Nico says, voice suddenly soft like he's trying not to crack, eyes filling with tears. "That's just what we do. He's been cheating on me since we started dating, and he thinks I don't know, but I see him every night come home smelling of sex. I thought - I thought it was okay because he was still coming back to me."

Before Percy can get another word out about how sincerely fucked up this whole thing is, Will shoves Percy in the shoulder, apparently having stomped over.

"Time's up. We're going home."

"Percy, wait, I - "

"Shut up, Nico." Will seethes.

He doesn't wait for an answer and captures Nico's wrist between his fingers, dragging him as Nico looks back with unfiltered despair, not protesting against Will's hold but not complying totally either.

Fuck. Fuck. Of course Percy had to fall for the one guy who's in a toxic relationship and can never love him back. He's lucky like that.

Percy doesn’t remember his car crash, but now he remembers a different one. Now, he remembers leather jackets coated in smoke, spikes and black hair and Nico’s legs tightening around his head as he comes, shuddering and letting out the tiniest of moans as he’s trying so hard to stay quiet but just can’t.

The fog of the shitty nightclub curls around his arms, touching him, taunting him as Nico walks further and further away from him, and suddenly he's gone. He tries not to think about the bruises on Nico's wrist that he didn't leave, tries not to think about the fact that Percy suddenly cannot see Nico's profile picture on his phone anymore, tries not to think about the fact that at one point Nico wasn't just a fuckbuddy, he had basically ingrained himself like a microcosm in Percy's life.

But most of all, he tries not to think about the fact that even through the shitty fog in the club, Nico's eyes still bored intensely into his like his own personal fog light.

[percicomicrofic]

write a percico fic in 50 words (or however many you want!) based on the prompt and tag @percicomicrofic so we can see and share your work! art, edits, etc also welcome!

[aro-wan]

Crimes of the Railroad Empire

prompt: Crash | word count: 400 | post-BoO | @percicomicrofic

"How often does that happen?" Percy asked his boyfriend, who'd been knocked to the ground from Percy's instinctive push.

'That', of course, was Nico coming out of a shadow that someone else had the misfortune of walking in at that same time. Considering how often Nico practiced that skill of his, Percy wasn't sure if the amount of occurrences was bound to be large by sheer number of events or surprisingly small considering the odds someone was meandering through the exact part of the shadow he happened to travel to at a particular time, especially in a spacious place like Camp Half-Blood where there were only so many people. Then again, Nico had a penchant for appearing in the woods, where there were much higher odds of stumbling upon one of the many dryads or satyrs than, say, the shadows in the training arena. Perhaps those odds weren't as low as Percy initially hoped.

Accepting Percy's hand up, Nico good-naturedly grumbled, "Less than you think but more than I'd like."

With deceitfully wide eyes, Percy innocently inquired, "And if I say, I thought never?"

"I'd say you're full of shit," Nico snarked back as he brushed what little dirt stuck to his clothes before hastily retreating into Percy's cabin. "Ready to lose your kingdom of railroads?"

Quick to follow his competitor to their mutual doom and inevitable loss of the rest of their afternoon to the infamous relationship ruiner, Monopoly, Percy shot back, "In your dreams, Di Angelo."

Percy wasn't quite sure if he imagined the previously nonexistent sashay in Nico's last few steps to what was his seat at the small table Tyson had created for cabin three, but the gleam in Nico's eyes as he studied Percy left him preparing for the variety of retorts Nico was bound to make. From depressing to lewd, Percy was almost surprised by how tame it ended up being.

"Trust me, I dream of much, more interesting things."

"Oh?" When Nico simply flicked his gaze to Percy's lips before rolling the dice and moving the appropriate amount of properties without a word, Percy breathlessly laughed and took the seat next to Nico with a smile. "Tease."

"For you? Always, now how much do I owe you for your stupid rails?"

"200."

"You're lucky I love you."

Collecting the rent with a kiss, Percy couldn't help verbalizing his heart's echo. "Love you too."

[theobjectlesson]

💀 for @percicomicrofic | prompt: DROP | word count: 461 | universe: post-BoO but leo's there bc i say so

"Woah."

Percy looks up from the half-engine, half-spontaneous combustion incident waiting to happen.

"What?"

Leo's stopped working to push his goggles off and look out over the CHB lawn. He wipes sweat off his forehead - leaving a big streak of faintly luminescent, definitely magical full synthetic in its place. Percy's probably covered in it himself. He won't pretend to understand all the intricacies of the Cabin 9 rally car, but he can hold a wrench alright and it's absolutely worth helping to get a turn in this thing when its done.

"When'd di Angelo get back?"

Percy shrugs, following Leo's line of sight.

"Didn't know he was -"

And that's when his voice stops working.

It's not that Nico's never at camp, it's just that Percy apparently keeps missing him. Ships in the night, or something. Percy tries not to dwell on it, because Nico's not avoiding him. That can't be it, because Nico got over his crush and decided Percy wasn't his type - whatever that means, which Percy isn't dwelling on either - so they're good now, right? And Percy's just being a little paranoid? Which, okay sue him, but there's still no reason for them to not talk to each other. They just... aren't talking to each other.

Well, right now, Percy's not talking at all.

How long has it been? Not that long, surely. Not long enough for Percy to forget what Nico looks like. Except, no way Nico looked like that. Did he? No. Nico didn't wear sleeveless shirts before, or a chain, or boots that make his legs look endless. Percy definitely would've remembered that, and those arms, and that hair, and the sliver of skin he can see at Nico's waist when he raises one of those arms to push that hair back out of his eyes that have eyeliner on them, what. So this all new, obviously. Has to be. If someone who looked like that told Percy that he "wasn't their type", Percy would've had Leo light him on fire for real, instead of just thinking about it a little bit. From time to time. Intermittently.

"Damn, new Nico just dropped," Leo says with a low whistle. Except, not that low because, well - Leo.

The new Nico looks over at them, and when his eyes land on Percy, he schools his face pretty fast but not fast enough. Suddenly Percy has a mighty need to be on the other side of the lawn.

"Hah, yeah, listen Leo - I'll be right back."

He's already jogging away and so misses Leo rolling his eyes before digging back into the engine, but his parting remark is loud and clear because, well - Leo.

"Sure, just try not to drool on him!"