𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [Jason Grace]

87

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐭, he decided. A big, huge, absolutely stupid, dumb, brainless, bumbling fucking idiot.

He tried to make sense of everything that had happened that night.

The clock on his table read 6 am. Which meant it had been nearly two and a half hours since he ran away from Jason and locked himself in his cabin.

He was stupid, so, so stupid.

The events on deck replayed in his mind over and over again like a broken record.

Jason's heartbeat under his hands, Jason's lip between his teeth, Jason's blue eyes on him, only him, pleading and begging for Dante to listen, Jason's hands on him, his fingers in Dante's hair. Jason against the mast, dagger to his throat, looking down at Dante in a way that was downright sinful.

"You. I'll belong to you. If you'll have me."

Dante thought of the unsexiest thing he could to get his mind off Jason. A grandpa? No Jason had pretended to be a grandpa and then the mist had shimmered off him, leaving him just Jason. Just Jason with those ridiculously strong arms and that stupid smile.

Training? War? Bloodshed? Daggers? No, Dante had trained with Jason, struggling on the very deck they now kissed on. And not to mention he seemed fond of a dagger at his throat.

Thinking straight was really hard when Dante was still wearing his hoodie, which smelled unmistakably like him. Gross. Dante hadn't taken it off.

His head spun and the only thing that he could think of was Jason.

There was a knock on his door and childishly, Dante hoped it was Jason. Even though he had given Jason no reason to run after him, he still hoped it was him.

It was Hazel. Dante tried not to show his disappointment.

"Hey, Dante," She greeted, "Morning, do you know where Jason is?"

Dante froze, could she know? But then again her expression was just sleepy. "I– no, why?"

"He's not on deck, I told him to wake me up if he needed a guard duty switch, but he didn't." She shrugged and narrowed her eyes at him, "Are you sure you don't know where he is?"

"No," Dante said a little too quickly.

"And... you're wearing his hoodie because...?"

Fuck. Dante looked down, his cheeks turning red.

"Uh... How much time do you have?"

"As much as you need if it's boy problems," She folded her arms and let herself in, closing the door behind her before sitting on Dante's unmade bed.

"How did you—?"

"You guys are really obvious," She said, "And you're really red."

Dante fell onto his bed next to her groaning into his bedsheet. "I'm going to jump into Tartarus." Though it came out muffled.

"Call Frank," Hazel nudged his head, "He'll bring snacks, and then you have to talk."

So he talked.

Frank and Hazel made themselves comfortable on his bed while Dante paced in his small room and somehow managed to narrate the events. He kept his nightmares vague, just something that was a result of Tartarus. He couldn't handle their guilty looks so he moved on fast.

When he told them how he went looking for Jason, Frank raised his eyebrows like a disappointed parent.

"It's not like that." Dante grumbled.