igrab
in
grabi_hands
Sakura Blushes [Percy/Nico, PG-13]
Title: Sakura Blushes
Author: igrab
Pairing: Percy/Nico
Written For: soxdamnxcute, to the palette face up to it
Wordcount: 473
Rating: PG-13
One of Nico's favorite things about Percy was how he blushed.
The fact that he did blush, at all, which Nico found fascinating, and how often and how easy it was to provoke. Percy blushed when he was embarrassed, when he was turned on, when he was angry, any kind of heightened emotion immediately saw him flushing pink like a japanese cherry blossom.
Okay, not quite like that, because that would've been impressive, and also probably would've clashed.
Nico was too dark to blush. He felt it sometimes - a kind of heat rising to his face, but it didn't even show under the olive tones of his skin. It was damn useful, too. It was easier to play it cool when he could keep himself looking pristine, like nothing was affecting him, even when Percy's lips or his eyes or, fuck, the way he held his pen drove Nico up the metaphorical wall. But he could smile, catlike, and no one would ever know.
Nico knew the first second that Percy looked at him and actually saw him, recognized that he was a viable sexual being. Nico had been barely fourteen and already depraved, so when he saw the pink tinge steal over Percy's cheeks and the slight, slight parting of his lips he knew exactly what it was. But he waited, he bided his time.
He also started wearing tighter shirts.
He loved the feeling of sauntering through Percy's life like his own personal oracle of impending doom. He loved knowing that Percy was thinking about him, that he couldn't stop thinking about him, and he loved how easy it was to prod that desire, enflame it, make Percy stumble over his own words like a grade-schooler with a crush. It was one of his favorite things about him.
It was the night before his sixteenth birthday when he finally decided he'd had enough of being a cocktease, and he leaned over (in the middle of a Smash Bros game, at that), swung a leg over Percy's lap, cupped his cheek with one hand and kissed him until they'd both forgotten how to breathe.
When their lips parted, Percy was flushed red and panting, and Nico looked as if he'd done nothing less ordinary than comment on the weather. He rubbed a thumb over the blush, his stomach thrilling at the thought.
"The fuck, Nico," Percy muttered.
"Should I stop?"
Percy gulped, and it shouldn't've been possible, but the blush got even worse. "Um. No. Definitely not."
"Good."
His watch beeped an hour later, signaling that he was now sixteen legal and physical years old, but he was much too busy to pay it any attention whatsoever.
Author: igrab
Pairing: Percy/Nico
Written For: soxdamnxcute, to the palette face up to it
Wordcount: 473
Rating: PG-13
One of Nico's favorite things about Percy was how he blushed.
The fact that he did blush, at all, which Nico found fascinating, and how often and how easy it was to provoke. Percy blushed when he was embarrassed, when he was turned on, when he was angry, any kind of heightened emotion immediately saw him flushing pink like a japanese cherry blossom.
Okay, not quite like that, because that would've been impressive, and also probably would've clashed.
Nico was too dark to blush. He felt it sometimes - a kind of heat rising to his face, but it didn't even show under the olive tones of his skin. It was damn useful, too. It was easier to play it cool when he could keep himself looking pristine, like nothing was affecting him, even when Percy's lips or his eyes or, fuck, the way he held his pen drove Nico up the metaphorical wall. But he could smile, catlike, and no one would ever know.
Nico knew the first second that Percy looked at him and actually saw him, recognized that he was a viable sexual being. Nico had been barely fourteen and already depraved, so when he saw the pink tinge steal over Percy's cheeks and the slight, slight parting of his lips he knew exactly what it was. But he waited, he bided his time.
He also started wearing tighter shirts.
He loved the feeling of sauntering through Percy's life like his own personal oracle of impending doom. He loved knowing that Percy was thinking about him, that he couldn't stop thinking about him, and he loved how easy it was to prod that desire, enflame it, make Percy stumble over his own words like a grade-schooler with a crush. It was one of his favorite things about him.
It was the night before his sixteenth birthday when he finally decided he'd had enough of being a cocktease, and he leaned over (in the middle of a Smash Bros game, at that), swung a leg over Percy's lap, cupped his cheek with one hand and kissed him until they'd both forgotten how to breathe.
When their lips parted, Percy was flushed red and panting, and Nico looked as if he'd done nothing less ordinary than comment on the weather. He rubbed a thumb over the blush, his stomach thrilling at the thought.
"The fuck, Nico," Percy muttered.
"Should I stop?"
Percy gulped, and it shouldn't've been possible, but the blush got even worse. "Um. No. Definitely not."
"Good."
His watch beeped an hour later, signaling that he was now sixteen legal and physical years old, but he was much too busy to pay it any attention whatsoever.