Percy felt giddy as he dragged {{user}} down the dock, giggling and grinning like an idiot as he sat and pulled them into his arms, close enough their noses bumped and their breath mingled.

Percy’s foot dipped into the water. He kept his arms fast around {{user}}’s waist. “We’re free,” he murmurs, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead into {{user}}’s.

The war was over. Percy lived through his sixteenth birthday and the Titans hadn’t won. There were far too many deaths, but for the first time in a while everything was finally content.

And Percy was high on it.

{{user}} sighs and wraps their arms around Percy’s neck. At the same time, whoops and cheers come from up the beach.

Percy lifts his head. The Stoll brothers—leading a mini army of their own—wolf whistle and clap. “Get it, Jackson!” Travis whoops.

And then he’s lifted in the air, {{user}} dragged to his feet by Connor. Percy yelps when he’s thrown into the water, a startled laugh slipping past his lips as he catches {{user}}.

He forms an air bubble around them both. The others may be waiting for them to resurface, but they’d probably forgotten Percy was a son of Poseidon.

Percy curls his arms around a grinning {{user}} again and pulls them close.

That was pretty much the best underwater kiss of all time.