To Swear On Styx

Chapter Twenty Seven: The Throne Room Gets a Renovation

Playlist Part Twenty Seven:

Flower Maiden (Guda Folk Choir) - Dzivia

the angel of 8th ave. - Gang of Youths

Some Kind of Ghoul - Joe Zempel, Bethany Conerly

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Author's Note - HIIIIIIIIIIIII BESTIES!!!! so bAsiCaLLy I wanna say first and foremost thank you thank you thank you for all of the lovely comments you all leave <3333 it feels like every morning when i check my phone i see more and i just wanted to say that you guys are the best <33 ive been superrrrr busy (im going back to school for another degree bc the economy/job market in my country is a disasterrr yahoo) so i havent had time to reply to them BUT i definitely will set aside time to!! i hope yall like the chapter <333 things are about to get wildd

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When Percy woke up, he couldn't clearly recall just what the fuck had happened. All he knew was that he was curled up in bed, pleasantly warm, with soft sunlight shining in through the messily drawn curtains and painting the room in a hazy golden glow.

Shifting against the rumpled sheets, Percy groggily sat up, stretching widely as his gaze dragged across the room, blearily landing on Kronos. The older was standing in front of the dresser with his back to the demigod-turned-Titan, mid-way through tugging a chlamys on over his chiton, the fabric rippling like molten bronze.

Percy watched for a beat with half-lidded eyes, the fact that Kronos had already fixed the completely destroyed bedroom registering distantly in his head. And then- the events of last night were spilling over into his mind, one after the other in rapid succession: Kronos' lips tracing a heavy line down his neck, the older's hands clawing into his thighs, hefting them up, gold boring through the dark-

Shoving the covers back, Percy swung his feet out of the bed before he could fully process what he was doing, striding over to the older and skimming his hand up against the Titan King's waist as he rounded in front of him.

Kronos, whose gaze was still on the mirror as he adjusted his clothes, quirked his lips up into a poorly-hidden smile as Percy leaned forward, trailing his lips against the older's exposed collarbone and up to his throat. "Morning." The word was grating, muffled against the Titan King's skin, Percy's lips just barely brushing Kronos' pulse.

The older's hand was in his hair, suddenly, fingers gripping against him and arching Percy's head back so there was just the barest suggestion of space between them. Leaning forward, Kronos nudged his lips against Percy's, slowly, deeply, kissing the demigod-turned-Titan, before breaking away with a crooked grin. "Good morning," he breathed, and Percy shivered despite himself. There- There was something different, now. A softness, a tenderness that he wasn't entirely sure how to respond to, how to reciprocate. Furrowing his brow, Percy's hands trailed to the front of Kronos' chiton, tugging the other up against him. It didn't matter. It wasn't like it did him any good to overthink anything the older did, especially when on a good day Kronos' intentions were muddled and pretty much as clear as mud. There wasn't much he could do now except buckle up and hold on, and, as Percy'd learned, with the older even that wasn't much help.

"Why'd you get dressed?" The demigod-turned-Titan asked, trying to clear his head. He let out a low breath as Kronos' hand smoothed down from his hair to cup his cheek, the older's touch pulling away at Percy's shaky resolve not to jump the Titan King then and there.

"I have business to attend to," Kronos' voice was low, his gaze half-lidded like leaving their room was wildly displeasing.

Before Percy could even get a word out edge-wise- a word like- like why, or- or stay- the older was leaning forward, smirking at Percy's probably-sour expression and murmuring in his ear: "But I'll be back later. To-" one of his hands dropped down, trailing up the inside of a flustered Percy's bare thigh, higher, higher- "-finish what we started."