Requested by: Peyton-Alice as well as a few guests

Pairing: Percy/Hermes

I in no way own PJatO or HoO

He was a slave to one of the most primal of urges, but then again, aren't all gods a slave to lust and love, isn't that what they feed upon, why they rule such a lowly bunch on mortal men and women, if not to simply feel a powerful lust that can put all earthly delicacies to absolute shame and disrepute.

He shouldn't be surprised, but he is when he feels that strong tug and pull in the direction of a young mortal man by the Mediterranean. His hair a dark and dirty blonde that looks as if it belonged to those whom dwelled further North where the air is stale and cold and their gods even more cruel than his own.

He is an oddity, a rarity amongst his people, more godly than any other who has dared be named a demi god. It takes mere seconds for the wing sandaled god to be pulled hook line and sinker towards the strange youth and even less for the god to claim the youth as his and only his.

"Do you worship your gods, child?" the god asks once close enough, his black hair wafts in the wind as the sea salt air infects his senses and burns his skin, as if in a warning.

The boy startles and looks up with a frown, the god rears back in shock at that moment as he stares into deep green eyes that seem to pool around his pupil, creating a dark pit of an island against the green sea.

"I worship none but the ones that bring me the good fortune that I wish for." The man says before turning back to the ocean his blonde hair curls slightly and Hermes has not seen such curls since Achilles.

"And what is it that you wish for." Hermes asks, taking a seat beside the man his knees dragging up, showing a flash of thigh. The boy catches a glimpse and looks away quickly his cheeks reddening slightly.

"Many things." He says cryptically with a soft smile and a sparkle in his eye.

"Such as, Glory? Fame?" Hermes questions, but the boy only shakes his head with a smile and Hermes can't help but smile back at the puzzle that is the curly haired youth by the beach.

"No, I wish for no such things." The boy replies frowning at the waves that crashed along the shoreline pulling any and all things it could into the deep sea.

"Then what is it you wish for?" He asked slightly annoyed and entertained.

"For happiness, friendship" he looks up at Hermes then with a slight blush that causes the god grin back unabashed. "And Love."

It takes a few moments for the words to fully absorb into the gods brain before he can feel lips soft and hard at the same time against his own and a tongue that licks against his bottom lip, testing his boundaries.

The god smiles and opens his mouth wide allowing full access.

Hermes had taken many youths before whether they be willing or not, and this by was no exception to his rule, however unlike many others this affair did not stop, rather it continued for many years well into the boys adult life.

But alas, tragedy was common amongst those who had been sired and loved by gods, and the young boy whom had stolen the messenger gods heart was no different to all those who lived before him.

His death came quickly in the form of a rogue Cyclops while he was toiling in the fields in the early morning sun, Hermes only wished he had been there to watch over his once youthful lover, to be there the moment his eyes shut for the last time.

He had refused to bury the body, spending days gripping on tightly to the lifeless corpse, in sheer hope that his soul would come back to be reunited with the muscular frame he clutched, ever so tightly. It had happened before and he was hopeful it would happen again; after all he had yet to lead any souls into Hades.

So he stayed with the body, his bountiful duties going unchecked for weeks. The gods had all visited him begging for him to bury the demigod and continue on with his duties in the same way they all had done when they had lost their lovers.

But it wasn't until Poseidon; god of the seas had visited him, with reddened cheeks and those sea green eyes that had been rubbed red raw from tears. The god had not said anything to him; he had simply rubbed the pale swelled cheek of his son in a way that had created a fatherly instinct to well up inside of him.

"Do you believe he has made it to Elysium?" He says, his voice hushed and quiet against the undertones of the ocean in the distance, crashing against the rocks.

Poseidon simply smiles that sad smile before looking up towards the thieving god. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He says slowly, glancing back down at the body. "But please let me bury him." his eyes tear up again, something Hermes had never seen the sea god do, before those eyes land on him once again. "Let me put his body to rest. Let him into Elysium."

Hermes doesn't say anything, instead he simply vanishes from the small hut that sits by the Mediterranean, and hopes that one day he will meet his love again.

He knows who the boy as soon as he lays his eyes upon him, he can feel it like the ocean rushing through his veins as he stares at the youngster on the busy sidewalk, this time he has dark hair, black like the night sky and is almost a spitting image of the boys no doubt father. Poseidon is lucky enough to have a son come back to him

He doesn't say anything to him however only watches him as he wonders through the city streets, a satyr disguised as a human trailing behind him. He resists that urge to walk up to him, and embrace his old love in a way that is very much frowned upon during these modern times, all of the gods had to resist those urges which had been so prevalent throughout their lives.

The mortals were now much more interested in the wining and dining rather than the primal urges that no doubt still courses through their veins. Hermes pays close attention to the boy throughout his life, waiting for him to grow, waiting for him to be old enough to once again be his, without any frowns or strange looks.

He simply wants his muse to come back to him.

He visits the camp often, seeking the boys help in helping his wayward son. Its too much for a fourteen year old to handle, he knows this but the boy he once knew who could take on a challenge lies in there, waiting for someone to take him seriously and give him a challenge.

So he does.

And for a moment he truly believes the boy will save his son, will stop him from the destiny, he knows deep down can't be changed nor altered.

And it tears him apart inside when he is unable to save him.

'What did you expect?' Martha hisses to him as he sits atop a rocky platform, somewhere in New Mexico.

He shrugs it off and slowly distances himself from his past lover. His grief over losing his son, playing upon his mind with every second he lays awake.

"He is Cute." Someone says one day, he over hears by pure chance, or does he.

It isn't until he looks up from his phone that he sees himself locked into a conversation with Aphrodite and Apollo. Two of the biggest egos on Olympus, with the exception of his own father, Zeus.

Apollo makes a loud scoff, which has Aphrodite roll her eyes. "Yeah, sure. If your into that thing." Hermes looks towards his step brother slightly frowning. Apollo doesn't notice, his eyes covered by black shades slowly checking out a wind nymph who is rushing back and forth as she tries to gather information for Aeolus before she makes her leave.

"What do you think Hermes?" she asks. And he knows that she knows who he is, or who he was. From so many years ago.

He blinks back the thoughts that flood his mind of blonde and black hair and those piercing green eyes that cause a rush of emotions to well within his stomach, making him feel queasy. He shrugs his shoulders and looks back down at his phone, acting- no not acting. Lying. To himself and the love goddess. "If you are into that sort of thing."

He doesn't say any more fearing he has given himself away, because even the god of lies and tricks cannot lie in front of the god of truth, nor feign or reject his strong feelings in front of the goddess of love.

He says no more to those who can read him like a book and instead, watches the boy from afar. Careful, not to forget about his duties. Because then they will know of his love once again, will know who the boy had once been and then he will be ordered to never see him again.

He doesn't want to live without him.

He can't live without him.

Not again.

He cares for him on his quest sending help when help is needed only to be pushed aside by the other gods, who are often thanked for the help he had offered.

Percy, he knows, no fears. He fears that he has angered the god by not saving Luke. But he couldn't be any more wrong. Hermes would never hurt him, he would rather spend a day with Hera than spend another century without his love.

He grows angry one day, he can't explain where the anger has come from, but it burns through his ichor filled veins, his breathing becomes short and laboured as he tries to reign in his anger and frustration. Beside him his phone continues to buzz. Around him sit fragments of what had once been his living room. Wood and stone lay crumpled around him as he stares down at the letter.

"No." he growls as if it is a definitive answer. "No." he grunts again. His hands fist into his curly hair as he stares desperately off into the distance. "This isn't happening. It can't be happening."

But it is he can read English despite what many demigods think. And there in black and white atop the grey invite sits two unmistakable and famous names, names that are repeated by those of their same rank in complete awe. Hermes wonders if he is the only god that speaks his name in awe.

Sally Jackson

Frederick Chase

Would like to invite you to the wedding of

Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase

He can't read the rest of the invite, which obviously doesn't belong to him, none of the gods have received an invite, well apart from the obvious ones. But he knows the two will not be able to attend. Because they shouldn't interfere with mortals.

He tells himself this over and over again.

'We shouldn't interfere with mortals, we shouldn't interfere with mortals, we shouldn't interfere with mortals, weshouldn'tinterferewithmortals-'

The mantra hums in his head like a hummingbird's heartbeat, accompanied with images of a life he would have loved to have shared with the son of Poseidon. He can see fingers intertwined heated looks across the table, kisses that could melt the sun and stars and he wants them.

No.

He needs them.

He needs his lover back, the only one who could seem to understand his quirky lifestyle, who could ignite a passionate blaze within him in a matter of seconds.

He can't do it any longer he realises with a sob that echoes throughout the room, a sob that he didn't know he had been harbouring. His heart feels shattered and his soul feels isolated and alone, he is tired of being alone.

He glares mournfully at the name beside his, how dare she even think herself worthy of his love and affection, a love and affection that had been his so, so long ago. Another sob escapes his pressed lips before finally he drops the letter to the ground.

His body soon follows the invitation.

His phone is still buzzing.

He grey eyed beauty is two months pregnant when the accident happens, and of course it happens while she is pregnant with their child- no it's not a child, its children.

Twins.

Aphrodite had been going on about it for weeks. 'Twins,' she would shout at anyone who would listen. 'Twins, two little girls.' She had grabbed at Hermes shoulders and had shaken him until he somehow managed to slip past her.

He is laying there motionless on the bed, cuts and bruises litter his pale skin, and she sits beside him, a cut on her cheek bandages on her arms and legs covering the cuts and scrapes she had received from the very same incident.

One hand rests on her slowly expanding belly, the other grips his hand tightly. Hermes glares at it.

It should be his hand. Not hers.

Instead he sits on the window sill of the private hospital, his leg dangling off the edge. No one notices him and he is okay with that, he doesn't like it when people see him cry anyway.

Many would think he were neglecting his duties, but he isn't, not really anyway. In any case this job takes precedence. He is here to take his past lover to the afterlife.

Tears well up, dry up and pour out of his eyes in the man's last few moments on earth are lived out in a coma on a hospital bed, all because of a drunk driver and a McDonalds run.

He glares at the daughter of Athena. She just had to have cravings for those chicken nuggets, and Percy being the wonderful man he is just had to drive the woman at such a late hour to get those nuggets.

Its exactly six minutes and twenty five seconds after Annabeth leaves the hospital for the night that Percy takes his final breath and the machine flat lines.

Hermes watches in horrifying fascination as the nurses and doctors rush to his side doing everything that they can to keep the young man alive.

He knows there is nothing they can do.

So he sits there watching the scene unfold with silent tears.

As the doctors shake their heads mournfully and one of the nurses is told to call the heroes wife that Hermes decides to leave.

The god knows that now he only has one more chance to be with his love.

All Hermes wants is to worship at the son of Poseidon's alter once more.

Can you guess the ending was rushed? Hahaha anyway hope you somewhat enjoyed this, a little different I know but meh.

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