Bloody, broken, Percy Jackson, the great hero, crumpled to the floor in pain. One eye swollen shut, the other dangerously close to following the same fate. His bottom lip jutted out in a permanent pout. A single tear slid down his cheek as he looked up at his enemy.

Luke Castellan's fist stopped mid-swing as he gazed down at his young victim. The cold stare let up in his eyes - a sense of realization climbed over his visage. He dropped his hand to his side, and kneeled down, hovering over the son of Poseidon that remained too still on the floor.

He gently placed his index finger under the demigod's chin, tilting it back to level with his own. Percy's single green eye, the only that remained open, drowned in tears of agony.

An unfamiliar lump formed in the traitor's throat. He found himself dying to comfort this . . . This child, but he had no clue how.

Percy shook under Luke's touch, obviously afraid.

Both demigod's minds went utterly blank the moment their lips connected.

One lip swollen, the other perfectly sculpted such as that of Apollo's, it was, without a doubt, the most amazing kiss either of them had.

Percy threw himself at Luke, tangling his fingers in blonde hair. Luke's tongue traced Percy's lower lip, cleaning up any traces of blood. Percy opened his mouth wider, practically begging for more - more of Luke's touch and kisses and body. He discovered Luke's hand creeping up the back of his shirt - and he liked it. More than that, he loved it.

The son of Hermes turned out to be the first to break the connection, gasping for air. "Fuck," he whispered, cautiously touching under Percy's inflated eye.

Percy wanted to cry again - not from the pain, but from the thought of the moment being over.

"Fuck me," Percy whispered without thinking. He wanted to taste his lover/enemy a little longer, before he disappeared forever.

Luke's eyes grew wide, startled by Percy's preposition. Could he? Could he really?

He could.

Luke smiled in satisfaction when Percy's screams and moans pierced the silence of the night, not caring if the whole world heard. Percy's nails dug into Luke's arms, but he didn't mind. He welcomed the pain that came with the torn flesh. It's been a long time since anybody or anyone had made the son of Hermes feel this way.

It was a completely new concept for Percy - lust and longing and love. He longed for Luke to return to Camp, to stay and hold Percy in his strong arms forever.

But both half-blood's knew that was a dream not worth chasing.