The only thing as fast as elegant mail delivery was definitely rumors.

They ran miles and miles, at the speed of light and gods, in totally different and distorted ways. But there was one unanimous point of agreement among them all, Percy Jackson had returned to the arms of freedom and ended up with the daughter of Athena.

It was subtle. Well-trained eyes almost didn't notice, but there was a too friendly distance between what was once considered the camp's golden couple, and the more the rumor spread, the more and more eyes turned to them.

Or in this case, for him.

Annabeth Chase was on a solo mission in search of something that no one knew about and had no return date, but she made it clear by not going out with her then partner that things were definitely not more the same.

Percy, contrary to what they thought, was calm about it. What irritated him perhaps was the recent lack of privacy and the way more whispers seemed to echo fiercely with each passing day. An unfortunate (or blessed, beloved by the gossips) person had seen something during a morning hero training session and then chaos broke out with force.

Marks on Percy's body.

Nail welts. Hickeys on skin kissed by the sun and gods, were too recent to be accepted as memories of a ended relationship. No, it was definitely not just anyone.

"I swear you'll kill me for this one day." Percy grumbles, torn between amusement and irritation, in another of the secret and risky make-out sessions between you in his cabin.

The hero moans as he feels her nails sliding along the wide expanse of his back, making him curse himself for liking it so much and already thinking that he should train in thick sweatshirts.

"Honey, we've been over this. No visible marks..." He whispers trying to bargain with you, but it's useless and he knows it.

One touch from you is enough for the son of Poseidon to melt and accept everything that was given to him without complaining, opening his mouth and asking for more until he was satisfied.

He loved to please you and if marking his entire body would make you happy, so be it. He had fallen brutally and was no longer trying to get up.

"Fuck, {{user}}." His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer until he pushes your body against the wall, enjoying your moan of complaint as he makes sure to return the favor, moving his lips down her neck, marking her as his too. "Keep it up and we won't be leaving here any time soon, princess."