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annabear

High Stakes and Unlocked Doors

The humidity of the New York summer had finally broken, replaced by a restless, electric heat that seemed to vibrate through the walls of Percy’s apartment. It was a Saturday night, and the usual crew had dispersed. Grover was at a jazz fusion show in Brooklyn, Charles and Silena were out at a rooftop dinner, and the rest of the girls had gone to a late-night screening of a horror movie that Annabeth had claimed she was "too tired" to attend.

In reality, Annabeth was currently sitting on Percy’s bed, her light brown boho braids cascading over her shoulders, her brown skin glowing under the amber hue of a single bedside lamp. The air was thick, not just with the lingering, herbal scent of the Northern Lights strain Percy had rolled earlier, but with a tension that had been building for months.

"You're sure they're gone for at least three hours?" Annabeth whispered, her voice a velvety contrast to the distant siren wailing on the street below.

Percy leaned over her, his blonde curls damp with sweat, his blue eyes darkened with a hunger that had nothing to do with the munchies. "Thalia said the movie is a double feature. Luke is at the gym trying to hit a new PR because he’s still annoyed I let you get high on a Wednesday. We have the whole place, Wise Girl."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers, tasting like mint and the faint, sweet smoke they’d shared twenty minutes ago. The weed had done its job; Annabeth’s usual analytical, architectural brain had slowed down, the walls she kept around her heart softening into something fluid and urgent. She didn't want to think about load-bearing walls or structural integrity. She wanted to feel the weight of him.

Percy’s hands, calloused and warm, slid under the hem of her pink silk camisole. He pulled it over her head in one fluid motion, his breath catching as he looked at her. "You are so beautiful, Annabeth. I feel like I'm hallucinating, but I know I'm not."

"Shut up and kiss me, Seaweed Brain," she murmured, pulling him down.

The transition from clothes to skin was a blur of fumbled waistbands and breathless laughter. When Percy finally entered her, Annabeth let out a sharp, jagged gasp that was half-sob, half-triumph. She arched her back, her small fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders, her braids tangling with his blonde curls.

"Percy," she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut as he began to move. "Oh god, Percy."

He was focused, his jaw tight, his movements slow and deliberate at first before picking up a rhythm that made the old wooden bed frame groan in protest. The world outside—the grades, the expectations, the overprotective siblings—didn't exist. There was only the heat, the friction, and the way Percy looked at her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded to the earth.

Meanwhile, three blocks away, the double feature had been canceled due to a technical malfunction at the theater.

"I'm telling you, it's a sign," Thalia grumbled, her combat boots clattering loudly on the pavement as she marched toward the apartment. "That movie looked like shit anyway. I’d rather go back, grab the snacks we left, and force Annabeth to watch something actually good."

Luke walked beside her, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looked restless. "I don't know, Thalia. Maybe we should just let her sleep. She said she was exhausted."

"Exhausted my ass," Thalia snorted. "She probably just wanted to sneak off and read a textbook in peace. Or worse, Jackson is over there 'educating' her again. I smell skunk every time I walk past his door lately. It’s getting ridiculous."

Luke sighed, but he didn't disagree. His protective streak was a mile wide, and despite the begrudging truce he’d formed with Percy, he still didn't trust the blonde boy not to turn Annabeth into a total burnout. "Fine. We’ll check on her. But if they’re just playing video games, leave them alone."

"I make no promises," Thalia said, pulling out her key to the main building.

Back in the apartment, the atmosphere was reaching a fever pitch. Percy had Annabeth pinned beneath him, his chest heaving as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. He was deep inside her, the sensation so intense it felt like his nerve endings were on fire. Annabeth’s legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back as she urged him closer, her voice a series of broken, high-pitched whimpers.

"Don't stop," she pleaded, her brown skin slick with sweat. "Percy, please, don't—"

The front door to the apartment didn't just open; it hit the stopper with a crack that sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room.

"Yo, Jackson! You better not have finished those nachos!" Thalia’s voice boomed from the living room.

Percy froze. His heart, which had been racing with pleasure, suddenly felt like it had dropped into his stomach. He was still buried deep inside Annabeth, their bodies fused together in the middle of a downward thrust.

Annabeth’s eyes snapped open, wide with a terror that instantly sobered her up. "Oh my god," she hissed, her voice barely a breath.

"Annabeth? You in here?" Luke’s voice followed, closer this time. He was heading down the hallway toward Percy’s bedroom, his footsteps heavy and rhythmic.

"Hide," Annabeth whispered frantically, pushing at Percy’s chest.

"Where?!" Percy hissed back, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. "I'm literally inside you, Annabeth! There is no 'hiding'!"

The bedroom door, which Percy had could have sworn he locked but had actually only pushed shut in his haste, swung open.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Thalia stood in the doorway, her mouth hanging open, a bag of half-eaten popcorn frozen in her hand. Luke was right behind her, his face turning a shade of red that looked physically painful.

Percy didn't move. He couldn't. He was braced on his elbows, his bare back to the door, but the angle was unmistakable. Annabeth was beneath him, her braids scattered across the pillow, her legs still hooked around his hips, her expression one of pure, unadulterated horror.

"What the fuck," Thalia finally choked out, the popcorn bag slipping from her fingers and spilling across the hardwood floor. "What the actual, literal, flying fuck?"

"Out," Luke said. The word was low, vibrating with a rage so intense it seemed to rattle the windowpanes. "Get. Out. Of. Her."

Percy scrambled backward, nearly falling off the bed as he disentangled himself from Annabeth. He grabbed a discarded sheet, frantically trying to wrap it around his waist, while Annabeth lunged for Percy’s oversized hoodie, pulling it over her head with trembling hands.

"Luke, wait—" Annabeth started, her voice cracking.

"Don't 'Luke' me!" he roared, stepping into the room. He looked like he wanted to put his fist through the wall, or through Percy’s face. "I knew it! I fucking knew it! You’ve been over here 'studying,' right? This is the 'architecture' you were working on?"

"Luke, back off!" Percy shouted, finally standing up, clutching the sheet to his hips. His face was flushed, but his blue eyes were beginning to spark with his own brand of defiance. "We’re adults! Get out of my bedroom!"

"Your bedroom?" Thalia barked, stepping around Luke. She looked like she was vibrating with fury. "You have her high as a kite half the week, and now you’re fucking her in this literal den of iniquity? She’s nineteen, Percy! She has a life! She has a brain!"

"I still have a brain!" Annabeth yelled, sitting up on the bed, her boho braids messy and her eyes watering with a mix of shame and anger. "Stop talking about me like I’m a child! I wanted this! I’m the one who asked him!"

The room went silent again. Luke turned his gaze to Annabeth, his expression shifting from rage to a deep, wounded betrayal. "You asked for this? Annabeth, look at this place. Look at him. He’s a burnout. He’s going nowhere, and he’s trying to drag you down with him."

"He’s not dragging me anywhere!" Annabeth snapped, standing up on the mattress to look him in the eye. "He’s the only person who lets me breathe! You and Thalia are constantly down my throat about my grades, my future, my 'potential.' Percy is the only one who just likes me for being me!"

"By getting you addicted to weed and getting in your pants?" Thalia scoffed, crossing her arms. "Real noble of him, Annabeth. Truly a knight in shining armor."

"It's not like that and you know it!" Percy stepped forward, forgetting for a second that he was only wearing a bedsheet. "I love her, Thalia. I’m not 'using' her. I’ve been in love with her since we were kids, and you fucking know that."

Luke let out a harsh, dry laugh. "Love? You don't know the first thing about it. Love is protecting someone. Love is making sure they don't throw their life away on some blonde idiot with a drug habit."

"It's a plant, Luke! Get over yourself!" Percy yelled back. "You act like I’m selling her into human trafficking! We’re having a Saturday night! We were happy until you two decided to bust in here like the goddamn SWAT team!"

"We wouldn't have to be the SWAT team if you weren't a liability!" Thalia stepped up to Percy, poking him hard in the chest. "If I ever—and I mean ever—see you touching her like that again without a ring on her finger and a five-year plan in your hand, I will end you. Do you understand me, Jackson?"

"Thalia, stop it!" Annabeth jumped off the bed, landing between them. She looked tiny in Percy’s hoodie, but her presence was commanding. "Both of you. Out. Now."

"Annabeth—" Luke started.

"No! Out!" she commanded, pointing toward the door. "You don't get to burst into a private residence and start dictating my sex life. I am a grown woman. I pay my own phone bill. I get straight A's. If I want to smoke a joint and have sex with my boyfriend, that is my business!"

Luke stared at her for a long moment, his jaw working. He looked at Percy, then back at Annabeth. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the apartment, the front door slamming so hard the pictures on the wall rattled.

Thalia lingered, her eyes darting between Percy and Annabeth. The fury was still there, but it was tempered by a flicker of something else—maybe worry, or maybe the realization that Annabeth wasn't the "baby" of the group anymore.

"This isn't over," Thalia muttered, pointing a finger at Percy. "I’m telling Sally. I don't care if you're twenty. Your mom is going to hear about this."

"Thalia, don't you dare!" Annabeth cried out, but Thalia was already gone, her boots stomping down the hallway.

The apartment fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. The bag of popcorn lay scattered on the floor, a mocking reminder of how quickly the night had spiraled.

Percy let out a long, shaky breath, the adrenaline finally starting to ebb away, leaving him feeling cold and exposed. He looked at Annabeth, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands.

"Well," Percy said quietly, "that went about as well as a lead balloon."

Annabeth let out a wet, hysterical laugh. "Luke is going to kill you. He’s actually going to buy a shovel and bury you in Jersey."

"Probably," Percy agreed. He sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You okay, Wise Girl? I'm sorry. I should have checked the lock. I should have—"

"It’s not your fault," she interrupted, leaning into his side. "They’re just... they can't handle it. They can't handle the fact that I’m not their perfect little project anymore."

Percy kissed the top of her head, his heart still thudding against his ribs. "You’re still perfect to me. Even if you are a 'degenerate' now."

Annabeth looked up at him, her brown eyes shining with a mix of lingering high and fresh tears. "Am I a degenerate, Percy?"

"The best kind," he whispered, pulling her into a kiss that was much softer, much more grounded than the one from before. "But seriously, we need to buy a better lock tomorrow. And maybe some flowers for your mom, because Thalia is definitely calling her."

Annabeth groaned, burying her face in his chest. "I hate our friends."

"I know," Percy smiled, stroking her braids. "But they’re gone now."

He looked toward the open door, then back at Annabeth. A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face.

"You want to finish what we started? Or are you too 'traumatized' by Luke’s face?"

Annabeth looked at him, her defiance returning in full force. She reached out, grabbed the hem of his sheet, and pulled. "Shut the door, Seaweed Brain. And this time, use the deadbolt."

As Percy crossed the room to lock the door, he could still hear Thalia yelling at someone on her phone in the hallway downstairs. He just shook his head, turned the key, and walked back to the girl who made the whole world—and all its drama—feel like a distant, blurry dream.