There's only so many jobs that a high school drop-out in his mid-twenties could take and Luke Castellan was plain thankful for the ones he got. Granted, they were all contractual jobs that paid minimum wage but, hey, he got through well enough. His rent is paid on time and he's not starving – so yeah, Luke would say that he's doing pretty well. He bought himself a new cellphone just a few weeks back after working at a logistics company year-round.

It's June now and he just landed a six-month job at a department store. His superiors had explained that there'll be a rotation of duties every two months and for this first two, he was assigned to the men's apparel section.

Luke buttoned up his vest in the staff room, he smoothed out his pants and combed down his sandy blond hair. Technically, he was a salesclerk but today he'd been assigned to manage the changing rooms since he wasn't well-versed in the stocks yet. Deeming himself presentable enough, Luke headed out to his post.

The whole store was decorated for the summer, cartoon suns with shades and cartoon kids in swimsuits hung from the ceiling. Luke had learned to tell what time of the year it is by the décor in his various odd jobs.

Nothing exciting happened until past lunch. Luke clapped a coworker on the back as they parted ways, he was a few feet from the changing rooms but he could already hear some sort of ruckus going on inside it.

"Dude, I tried this on for a dare! I'm not buying it!"

"Yes you are! How else do you plan to pick up chicks at the beach?"

"By wearing something respectable!"

Luke stepped inside and saw two guys standing outside one of the cubicles arguing. They were in their late teens – one wore a rasta cap and generally loose-fitting clothes, the other guy was in nothing but a Speedo. Luke schooled his expression into a neutral one and then he cleared his throat.

Both teens jumped up and turned to him. Speedo-guy's eyes widened in alarm and he jumped back inside the cubicle; his whole face was tomato red. His friend, on the other hand, clapped both hands onto his mouth, holding back a guffaw.

"Can I help you, sirs?" Luke said, maintaining his offhand expression.

"N-No, thank you," the rasta cap-wearing teen said. He turned towards the other guy and excused himself. "I'll be right outside. You are going to buy that, man, even if it's the last thing I get you to do." He slipped past Luke whose eyes were back on Speedo-guy.

"It's a good fit," Luke commented casually, meeting wide green eyes. He may or may not be smirking a little and laughing internally at the situation.

"I don't think so," Speedo-guy replied. "Sorry if we were loud. I'll just–" He backed into the cubicle and shut the door.

Luke crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, mentally recreating a smooth body with lean musculature, messy black hair, expressive green eyes, and pretty pink lips. He wasn't perving on the guy, really he wasn't – it's just really hard to ignore such a beautiful sight and Luke always appreciated beauty.

Speedo-guy came out in a t-shirt and jeans, the Speedo crumpled tight in one hand. He didn't meet Luke's eyes as he rushed out of the changing room; the tips of his ears were a vivid red.

-o-o-o-

It's August when Luke saw him again but then guy didn't notice him.

Luke was on his way to the stockroom to get a medium-sized pair of acid-washed jeans when he crossed paths with a familiar face that had him stopping in his tracks. Speedo-guy was back and it seemed that he had managed to pick up a girl at the beach.

He was following after a girl with flaming red hair. They weren't holding hands or anything of the sort to imply a relationship but Luke saw a silly grin on those pretty pink lips. That hopeful glint in his eyes was one that Luke himself had worn a lot; it spoke volumes of the giddy excitement of having a fresh relationship.

Luke offered the guy a mental salute and went on to find those jeans.

-o-o-o-

In his opinion, the fake cobwebs and plastic jack-o-lanterns the store put up yesterday were pretty tacky. Of course, the deco wasn't up to him and he can't really complain when they're too easy to ignore.

It's October and Luke has been moved to the Characters Section and the thing is, he barely recognized all these new incarnations of his comic book heroes. The movie characters, on the other hand, those he knew too well from long weekends of pigging out.

"Does this Jack Skellington mask come in a bigger size?"

Luke turned to find Speedo-guy.

Whoa. How come he never noticed him there before?

Something like recognition flickered in the guy's green eyes and his cheeks colored pink.

It was very tempting to make a jab at the guy but Luke saw his boss going around with a clipboard just now and he knew he had to be on his best behavior.

So Luke just smiled and pointed the guy in the right direction.

"Thanks," Speedo-guy (Luke should really get his name) gave a smile back and headed off. At the end of the aisle, he was joined by his rasta cap-wearing friend and a younger guy who wore all-black.

The guy in the rasta cap was showing off a gory mask of Frankenstein's monster and the kid held up a set of fake vampire teeth. Speedo-guy laughed at them and motioned about his mask.

As the trio left, Luke's eyes followed and for some reason, Speedo-guy looked back at him with an expression that was almost shy.

-o-o-o-

It's December and Luke's last paycheck was bound at the end of the month. Before that, though, he found himself assigned at the gift-wrapping section. He'd anticipated the end of his contract and he'd already filled out a couple of new résumés – an old friend of his, Kelli, said she could help him apply at the bar she worked.

But back to present time, Luke was rolling out gift wrappers and cutting scotch tape and ribbons for people who had no time to wrap gifts themselves or just plain didn't know how. He'd finished wrapping a particularly elegant set of teacups and handed the finished product to a lady whose son was pouting and tugging at her hand. The lady left and the next customer came, putting a snow white owl stuffed toy with a great silver bow on its neck onto the table top. On the other side of the counter, Speedo-guy was biting down on his lip, his face a little flushed as his green eyes met Luke's.

Luke hid his smirk, opting to go with the usual greeting. "Good evening, sir, which color of gift wrap should be used?"

The guy stared at him for one second longer. "Um, that one, uh," Speedo-guy pointed towards the rolls that hung at the back. "The red one with the gold snowflake-things…"

Luke nodded and went to do his work, measuring and folding and cutting, all the while feeling the other guy's unwavering gaze on him. He made something of a bag out of the chosen Christmas wrapper and placed the plush doll inside, sealing the package with staples. Luke held up a small white card with a matching envelope, "Will you need a card on this?"

Speedo-guy nodded, one finger tapping a nameless tune on the countertop.

Once the card and envelope were attached, Luke handed the wrapped gift back, unable to help himself from giving a final sort of goodbye. "I'm sure your girlfriend would love it."

A breathy sort of 'Thanks' was the reply he got before the dark-haired guy stepped back and went on his way, his deep blue scarf flowing behind him.

-o-o-o-

It's February and Luke's working two jobs – in the afternoon he worked at a quaint little coffee and cake shop at Clearwater Street, at night he worked at the nightclub with Kelli – she made good on her promise to get him in.

The place was expectedly jam-packed the Saturday that followed Valentines Day. Luke found it a bit more difficult to maneuver past the crowd to deliver the drinks. See, Luke wasn't very big on drinking even though he had the habit of ordering something just because its colors looked beautiful. Point is: he was more than happy to leave the bartending to the specialists – in this bar it was Kelli and Chris.

"Hey, Luke, can you deliver this order for me?" Travis, another busboy, grabbed his arm. He was holding up a cellphone which visibly read 'Connor calling' on the screen. "I need to take this."

"Sure." Luke took the tray laden with shot glasses filled with Blow-Jobs from the younger man. He rolled his eyes upon seeing the drinks – juveniles. He could bet that whoever ordered these only did so because of the name but hey, whatever. "Where's this due?"

"Table eleven," Travis said, grinning. "Thanks, man." And he disappeared to the backroom to take the call.

Classic love songs were remixed with some amazing guitar riffs and techno beats added in – people on the dance floor were getting wild. Luke made a mental note to ask for those remixes from DJ Tha-Lia after work.

Luke weaved through the crowd of patrons to table eleven; it was a cubicle on the right-hand wall of the bar. From afar he could already see around half a dozen patrons in their late-teens squashed into the leather couch that formed a semicircle around the round table in the middle.

Their voices grew louder as Luke approached.

"I'm not gonna be the designated driver!"

"How about you, Clarisse?"

"No way, princess – it was me last time. Grover you be it."

"Me? But–"

"Oh whatever, I'll be the designated driver."

"Juniper, you really don't–"

"It's fine, Grover. I'm not much of a drinker anyway," the teen with amber hair raised her eyes, zoning in on Luke as he came nearer. "I think our order's about to arrive."

"A round of Blow-Jobs," Luke announced as he came to a stop in front of the table, only grinning wider as the expected snickers followed his statement. He set down the shots onto the table discreetly looking every face at the table in turn.

The one called Juniper sat at the right-most seat, beside her was a guy with a mess of curly hair; he looked familiar but Luke couldn't quite place where he saw him yet. Beside the guy was a tall girl wearing a camouflage bandana on her head, a wicked smirk was on her lips as she swiped one of the drinks Luke had just put down. On the girl's other side were a couple of bags and then a pretty girl whose blonde hair was curled like a princess', she had one hand entwined with the last member of their group on top of the table. When Luke's eyes came to rest on the guy, his breath all but ran out of his lungs.

Beneath the messy fringe of ebony hair, wide green eyes stared back at Luke.

Oh.

Luke straightened up after depositing the last couple of shot glasses, tearing his eyes away from the guy. He cleared his throat. "Is the order complete?"

"Yes, thank you," the 'princess' said, smiling genially at him.

A bit of a forced smile was all that Luke managed before he turned and walked away. His mind, for some reason, was all-too busy concluding that this girl with Speedo-guy was not the same one he'd seen with him a few months back.

Okay, this was starting to get ridiculous.

Luke had no idea why he was seemingly subscribed to the (admittedly brief) glimpses of the guy's life that he's seen so far. So the guy's attractive, Luke could admit that. But Luke never went after someone just because they were attractive. There was just something else about him… Whatever it was, though, now wasn't the time to think about it.

Upon reaching the bar, Kelli slid two highballs in his direction yelling out "Table three."

He shoved all thoughts of the Speedo-guy from his mind and stayed far, far away from table eleven for the rest of his shift.

-o-o-o-

It's April 30th and it's a slow day at the Aphros Café. Silena, the café owner, was doing some bookkeeping at a table near the back. Charles, her fiancé, was doing the newspaper crossword at the counter. Their only current customers were a group of four girls who were chatting rather loudly amongst themselves.

Luke had found his own spot leaning against the counter, texting Chris the bartender about Travis saying that he wouldn't be able to come to work that night, when the chimes sounded and a warm breath of air entered the shop.

Ice blue eyes turn to the doorway and wow, really? Really, Destiny or Fate or Karma or Whoever-you-are-up-there? Really?

"Good afternoon, sir, welcome to Aphros Café!" Charles greeted from the counter. Luke was supposed to say the greeting too but he found himself tongue-tied at the completely different air that surrounded their new customer.

Speedo-guy entered the café, eyes cast down, going straight for a corner table and settling down. He pulled out a Blackberry from his pocket and stared at it.

A poke on his back brought Luke out from his reverie. From behind the counter, Charles shot him a meaningful look, nodding towards the new guy. Luke schooled his expression into a genial mien and went off to do his waiter duties.

"Can I take your order, sir?" Luke said as he stopped beside the table for two.

The beautiful face he'd been used to seeing was now absolutely miserable. A frown marred his pink lips and his bright eyes were now a stormy shade of green. The worst of it all was that the crease on his brows only seemed to increase when he saw Luke.

It took at least ten seconds of staring from both parties before the customer mumbled a response. Even then, Luke had to make him repeat his words because he wasn't able to catch it the first time.

"Um, just one tall toffeenut coffee, please," the guy said, his voice a little hoarse. His gaze was a little pleading, maybe a little lost.

Luke's smile failed. "I'll be right back…" He went back to the counter and ripped off the order slip from his notepad, handing it to Charles who immediately went about concocting the drink. Meanwhile, Luke saw the guy back at the table pick up his phone and start texting.

A quiet "Thanks" was all that Luke got when he delivered the steaming hot coffee.

It was a quarter to four when the guy came in, it was now six-thirty and Luke's shift at the café had come to an end. The guy was still there, his cup was empty and he was still waiting for something (a reply possibly) on his phone.

Going out from the staff room, now in his casual clothes, Luke bid Silena and Charles goodbye. He couldn't help but notice that their remaining patron looked up at him as he was about to leave; Luke made a detour on his way out.

Green eyes followed his every step until he was face to face with the dark-haired teen. Luke managed a wry twist of his lips as he stared down at the glum-looking guy.

"It's been more than two hours, man, she totally stood you up," said Luke sympathetically. "Word of advice: try again tomorrow, maybe then she'd cooled off whatever it is." He couldn't take the heartbroken look on the pretty face any longer and left without another word.

-o-o-o-

It's May (the cold first few hours of it) and Luke was at the back alley of the nightclub having a cigarette break. The watch on his right wrist told him that it was ten minutes to four in the morning – they'd be closing up soon.

True enough, he entered the club finding it empty save for the staff; the front door swung slightly as their last customers left, swaying in their steps. Luke went straight to clearing the tables.

The DJ, a woman two years younger than Luke, stepped down from the booth and headed over to the bar. "Kelli, gimme a shot."

"Will do," the brunette barista obliged.

The nightclub was a decently sized place but with three busboys all wanting to go home and get some rest after a long night's work they finished cleaning up the place in no time. Luke was just about to head over to the locker rooms to clock out when his coworkers' conversation caught his ears.

"So who's this guy?" DJ Tha-Lia, just plain Thalia now that work's over, asked.

"I dunno but he came here really late," Kelli replied, putting her hands on her hips as she surveyed the lone figure whose upper body was slumped onto the countertop. "He ordered a bottle of rum and just drank quietly. I didn't even notice that he passed out until everyone else had left. Hey Chris, do you know this guy?"

The Latino man stood up from where he'd been storing the alcohol bottles under the bar. He took one look at the passed out figure and shrugged. "Nope." He caught the shot glass Thalia slid in his direction and started cleaning it.

By this time Luke had walked over to the trio but then he froze. He recognized that messy black hair, he recognized that long-sleeved shirt and those denim pants – he saw them just this afternoon at his other workplace. Shit.

"You know this guy?" Thalia asked.

"Kind of…" Luke stepped closer, his co-workers eyes following him. He brushed back the ebony locks of hair that covered the guy's face, finding the same heartbroken expression he'd seen before. "I've seen him around a couple of times."

"That settles it, then," said Kelli as she stepped out from behind the bar. She leveled a conspiring smirk at Luke. "You take him home."

"Whoa – what?" Luke backed away from the passed out teen. He told himself he wasn't blushing.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, loverboy," Thalia snickered from Luke's other side. "You're the only one here who knows this guy."

"Besides, I wouldn't trust a pretty face with those girls," Chris added to which said girls feigned offense. There's a round of laughter but Luke didn't join in.

-o-o-o-

The last time Luke brought home a guy, or anyone for that matter, was a vague four months ago after getting a bit tipsy at the New Year's gig he attended with a couple of old friends. He'd had some brief hook-ups since then but not in his own house.

Chris was cool enough to drive Luke back to his apartment, he even opened the door for Luke seeing as the blond found his own hands busy with holding up his… guest.

Luke laid the unconscious teen on his couch and bid Chris goodbye. At the sound of the car driving away, Luke resigned himself to his apparent fate.

He went into the bedroom and grabbed a pillow and a blanket from the closet. Carefully, he slid the pillow underneath the sleeping teen's head and then covered him with the blanket. Luke pushed back the guy's hair and smoothed out the crease in his brows. The unconscious guy hummed and snuggled deeper into the couch, a wan smile surfacing on his lips. Unable to help himself, Luke pressed a kiss to the teen's forehead.

It was going to be a damn complicated morning.

-o-o-o-

Over the creak of the cupboards Luke heard the distinct groan of someone waking up with a hangover. He instantly abandoned his search for something to eat. He grabbed the glass of water and Advil he'd prepared a while ago and went over to the living room where faint mid-morning sunlight streamed in through the windows.

The dark-haired teen had raised himself into a sitting position, his head cradled by both hands. Another groan came from him as he massaged his temples. "God, where am I?" he grumbled, voice hoarse and throaty.

Luke smirked, perching himself at the backrest of the couch. "Well, I'm not God but right now you're at my apartment."

A startled gasp coupled with a quick turn of the head led bright green eyes to him. "You…"

"Here, take some Advil." Luke offered the medicine and glass. "You downed a whole bottle of rum last night…"

It's with a little hesitation and maybe some self-consciousness that his guest reached out and took the items. He swallowed the pills and finished the whole glass without taking his eyes off of Luke.

"You know, I usually get a guy's last name at least before I take him home," Luke joked, trying to come off as friendly now that he was actually about to hold a proper conversation with the guy. It's only been roughly eleven months since he first laid his eyes on him and before you ask – no, Luke wasn't counting… much. "I'm Luke."

"Perseus." The guy replied automatically, as if he'd just been waiting for Luke to introduce himself from the very start.

"Perseus? Seriously?" Luke bit the corner of his lower lip, trying in earnest to not burst out laughing. "Your parents are aware that we are now in the 21st century, right?"

There's a shine in the teen's beautiful green eyes that just about made Luke's breath hitch. "My friends call me Percy…" He traced the rim of the empty glass with one long finger. "You can call me Percy," he added shyly.

"Okay, then, Percy," the name sounded so natural on his tongue Luke couldn't believe he waited eleven months before he got it. "Think you can stomach some breakfast now?"