Coming of Age (Percy Jackson)

A/N: This is one of my ten Patreon-Funded stories. Currently up to date with all my other public websites, with four chapters of advance content always available on my Patreon at all times. Updates once every two weeks. Enjoy!

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He’s incredibly groggy as he starts to wake up. That’s his excuse anyways, for not immediately opening his eyes. To be fair, it’s not every day that you wake up to someone giving you a handjob. It’s certainly never happened to Percy before. He honestly doesn’t want it to end, especially with how soft and feminine the hand is. Nor does he want to ruin the fantasy.
 
Instead, keeping his eyes closed, Percy tries to take stock of things. Where was he? How had he gotten here? The last twenty-four hours come back to him slowly but surely, and as he remembers what led up to this point, he has to admit… he’s more and more distressed.
 
It’d started at the Senior Trip to the museum. Percy was pretty fucking sure he’d killed Mrs. Dodds, but then the woman had literally turned into a massive fucking bat lady with huge fangs and attacked him, so it was a pretty clear cut case of self-defense. Except when Percy had tried to tell people, it was like Mrs. Dodds never existed.
 
Instead, Mrs. Kerr was suddenly their Math Teacher and according to the rest of his classmates, always had been. Percy didn’t know what the fuck to think about that. He’d quite literally stabbed Mrs. Dodds through the chest with a fucking sword that had come out of a pen, and no one was batting an eyelash. Well, no one except for his only friend, Grover.
 
But then, that was another clusterfuck entirely, wasn’t it? After the Field Trip, Percy ended up back at school, only to overhear Grover talking to Mr. Brunner, the one who Percy remembered throwing him the pen-sword in the first place. They’d talked as though Percy’s life was in danger, but when Percy tried to question Grover about it, he’d been irritatingly tight-lipped.
 
All in all, Percy had really needed it when his mom had offered to take him to his favorite beach for the weekend. It was exactly what the eighteen year old required to get over the events of the day. The beach had always been Percy’s favorite place. But then, as long as he could remember, he’d been happier in water than anywhere else, even dry land.
 
He was a natural born swimmer, the kind of guy who was at home in the ocean. That had ultimately translated into him joining the Swim Team of every school he’d ever been in. Of course, most schools still ended up kicking him out. Percy had never had an easy time of it when it came to education. Not only had he been held back a year at one point due to his Dyslexia and ADHD, but he also didn’t last at most schools longer than a year… some less than six months, even.
 
Even as one of the best swimmers on any Swim Team he’d ever been on, Percy wasn’t one of the ‘cool people’. To be fair, the popular kids usually preferred the Football Stars over a Swim Star, but even then… he didn’t really fit in. Not even with his fellow swimmers. He did his best, but often enough, his best wasn’t good enough.
 
All of that didn’t really matter though, not when shit had really hit the fan for some reason. He and his mom had barely been in Montauk for one night before they’d been woken up by a pants-less Grover. No, that wasn’t quite right. It had been Grover, and he’d been without pants, however he’d also had a goat-like appearance from the waist down. His unmentionables were hidden behind a whole lot of fur that ultimately terminated in a pair of hooves of all things.
 
He'd told Percy and his mother then and there that he was a Satyr, and that they really needed to leave because it wasn’t safe anymore.
 
In hindsight, the speed at which his mom had believed Grover was a little suspicious, wasn’t it? Percy furrows his brow a little bit at that, only to hastily smooth out his expression and regulate his breathing as the hand on his shaft suddenly goes still, the handjob coming to a temporary halt. As a swimmer, he knows a lot about breathing… enough to be able to continue faking sleep until the handjob resumes.
 
Going back to what had happened… they’d ended up driving out into a fucking hurricane it felt like, only to be blasted by a bolt of lightning of all things! From there, Grover had been no help, injured by the crash as he was. And with Grover down for the count, well… things had gone decidedly sideways when the Minotaur showed up.
 
Grover got hurt even more by the Minotaur, until Percy’s mom… his mom distracted the monster and it grabbed her by the neck. She’d disappeared in a flash of golden light and Percy didn’t know if she was dead or… or just somewhere else. He only knew she was gone.
 
What happened next is coated in red in his memory. He’d been overcome with fury, the water from the hurricane coating his form and making him slippery as an eel. He’d dodged the Minotaur’s grasping hands, leapt up onto his back, torn his horn clean off his skull, and stabbed him to death with it.
 
That was… that was the last thing he remembered, right? Except no, as he gets past that, a bit more memory comes to him. He’d not passed out there. Instead, he’d dragged Grover’s unconscious body a little while longer, reaching the porch of a house before finally passing out. THAT was the last thing he remembered.
 
Letting out a low, involuntary breath, Percy shudders, causing the hand on his cock to stop moving yet again. A moment later, a woman’s voice calls out to him.
 
“You can stop pretending to be asleep now, you know.”
 
… Well, it was worth a try. And hey, the hand on his dick wasn’t going anywhere at least. Slowly opening his eyes, Percy looks up into the face of a cute blonde coed. Immediately, her gaze jumps out at him as intensely… calculating. Meanwhile, her hand is indeed wrapped around his cock even now, her fingers casually stroking away at it, though her palm is no longer going up and down.
 
“… You’ve got your hand on my dick.”
 
Without missing a beat, the blonde nods.
 
“Yes.”
 
Percy presses his lips together, glancing between his crotch and her face. She’s a very beautiful young woman. And he’s nothing if not a libidinous young man. Even still.
 
“Why do you have your hand on my dick?”
 
Giving him a half-shrug, she glances down at his cock in her grasp for just a moment before answering him.
 
“Curiosity. You developed a substantial case of Nocturnal Penile Tumescence as you slumbered, and I found myself intrigued. I can stop, if you wish.”
 
Percy finds himself mouthing the words ‘Nocturnal Penile Tumescence’ for a moment with wide eyes, causing an expression of irritation to spread across the cute blonde’s face.
 
“You would know it by the slang term ‘morning wood’.”
 
Oh. Right. Blushing now, Percy looks down at where her hand is still on his cock. Almost as though she expects him to ultimately give her permission to continue. But then, she already knew he’d pretended to be asleep until now so she WOULD continue, didn’t she?
 
“… It’s fine. You can keep going.”
 
The barest of smiles slips onto the blonde’s face at that. Just a quirk of the lip, even as her hand begins to move up and down his shaft again. Trying to ignore how good it feels to be jerked off by a beautiful woman, Percy instead attempts to focus on their surroundings. It looks like they’re actually in a camp infirmary of some sort, given the log cabin aesthetic. He’s on one of a handful of beds in the place, though they’re the only two actually IN the log cabin at the moment.
 
“Um… where are we, exactly? And who are you?”
 
Now she smirks at him, shaking her head slightly.
 
“You probably should have led with that last question, Percy Jackson. As for who I am… I’m Annabeth. Annabeth Chase. And you’re currently at Camp Half-Blood.”
 
Percy just shakes his head at that, somewhat bewildered now.
 
“Wait, how do you know MY name?”
 
Rolling her eyes, Annabeth scoffs.
 
“I’m the daughter of Athena. It’s my duty to know things. Also Grover told me.”
 
It’s just one thing after another. Percy barely even hears the last bit, still trying to wrap his head around the ‘daughter of Athena’ bit. But when he finally registers Grover’s name, he perks up.
 
“Grover? He’s alright?”
 
Waving her free hand through the air, Annabeth nods.
 
“He’s fine. Healed up faster than you, even. He explained what brought you here. I’m sorry that your arrival at Camp was so… rough.”
 
She sounds apologetic, but the way she’s talking, it’s like his arrival here was almost inevitable or something. Brow furrowing, Percy decides to focus on that next, even as her hand on his cock continues to work away at him the entire time. It was a little strange, holding such an important conversation while getting jacked off, but also… not entirely unappreciated, he had to admit.
 
“What is Camp Half-Blood, exactly?”
 
Looking at him, REALLY looking at him, Annabeth hums.
 
“You don’t know. That’s a shame. Maybe if you’d known, this all could have been avoided. You’re a demigod, Percy. The son of a god. Specifically, you’re the son of a God or Goddess from the Greek Pantheon.”
 
Percy sputters at that, but Annabeth is deathly serious. There’s not a single ounce of deception in her voice either. Now, he hasn’t always been the best at reading people to be fair. And maybe the fact that she’s giving him a handy has something to do with it… but he believes her. Or at least, he believes she believes it. She might still be crazy as all hell, in which case he needed to get out of here.
 
“I don’t… I’m not… I uh, have to get back to school. What day is it, even? Is it still the weekend? Because I’ve got class to get to and swim practice and…”
 
He trails off as Annabeth once again stops jerking him off. She looks at him closely for a moment before something akin to sympathy spreads across her face.
 
“You were held back a year at some point, weren’t you?”
 
Percy flushes at that. It wasn’t something he let get to him, usually. At least, he tried not to. But with Annabeth… he could already tell she prized knowledge and intelligence. He found himself getting defensive.
 
“Y-Yeah? So? What of it?”
 
Annabeth just shakes her head.
 
“You’re eighteen now, Percy. Your old life is over. Monsters don’t care whether you’re still in High School or not.”
 
Percy thinks of Mrs. Dodds. He thinks of the Minotaur. He thinks of a handful of experiences he’s had in the past couple months since his eighteenth birthday. Mouth dry, he nevertheless has to ask for clarification even as he feels a yawning pit opening in his stomach.
 
“… Monsters?”
 
Annabeth seems to detect that he’s not completely ignorant, because the look she gives him is vaguely pitying.
 
“You’re a fully matured demigod, Percy. And monsters hunt demigods as soon as they’ve come of age. Camp Half-Blood is one of the only places where our kind is safe. You’re safe now… but you’ll be hunted for the rest of your life all the same.”
 
It was the sort of thing that should have really put a damper on the entire mood. And yet, Percy’s body apparently doesn’t care. Annabeth’s hand feels too damn good. Because, just a few moments after she’s let that particular bombshell drop, Percy is groaning as he suddenly tips over the edge without warning, Annabeth’s smooth palm gliding up and down his throbbing shaft.
 
They’ve been talking for a while now to be fair, and she’d been jerking him off even before he woke up. Still, he’s incredibly embarrassed when he cums all over her hand, his seed coating her fingers and palm. Annabeth, meanwhile, just pauses and hums as she looks at the mess he’s made of her appendage. Wait. She can’t seriously be thinking about…
 
Percy watches, bewildered, as the self-proclaimed Daughter of Athena brings her cum-coated fingers to her lips. Her tongue darts out remarkably fast and swipes a bit of his seed from her fingertips and into her mouth. Then, she pauses again, clearly cataloging the taste for a moment before wrinkling her nose and shaking her head.
 
Reaching off to the side, Annabeth comes back with a towel that she uses to wipe not just her hand down but his cock. Her movements are incredibly efficient and mechanical, not really allowing him to get aroused again even as she wipes them both down. Percy, meanwhile, finds himself grimacing as though her dislike of his cum was a personal blow to his pride.
 
“That bad, huh?”
 
Annabeth pauses and then looks at him.
 
“Not really. It might be an acquired taste, or it might be a matter of personal preference. I’ve just never really been a fan of seaweed.”
 
Percy blinks at that, but before he can even try to formulate a response, Annabeth stands.
 
“Now come on. Get dressed, I’m expected to bring you as soon as you wake up. This little conversation wasn’t exactly sanctioned.”
 
She directs him to his clothes, so Percy quickly gets out of bed and begins getting dressed. However, he definitely catches Annabeth’s eyes flicking over his torso, where the abs he has from all his swimming have apparently catch her eye. Percy tries not to feel too pleased about that, though he does find himself briefly fantasizing about actually getting to do more with the blonde. She’d given him a handjob because she was apparently curious. Could he get her to do more with him for the sake of ‘knowledge gathering’ or something?
 
That thought is shunted to the side a moment later when he goes back over her final words to him again and furrows his brow.
 
“Wait, who exactly are you bringing me to? What do you mean, ‘not sanctioned’?”
 
Annabeth just shrugs, standing by the door to the infirmary and waiting for him.
 
“The Director of Camp Half-Blood wanted to speak with you as soon as you were conscious. But I decided it could wait a little bit. You’re feeling much more settled now, after all. Not nearly as likely to freak out, right?”
 
Percy blinks and considers that for a moment. Was he feeling better? A little. Was he less likely to freak out? Maybe, so long as he kept repressing all of his feelings for a while yet. But also…
 
“Who’s the Director, anyways?”
 
Annabeth just smirks as he walks towards her, pulling open the infirmary door.
 
“You’ll see.”