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The thing is, sex with Nico changes with his mood.
Melancholy means soft touches, Jason’s palm against Nico’s cheek to draw him into a dry press of lips that reads I’ll be here when you come back. Sometimes Nico’ll bristle and push him away, but more and more now, he’ll lean into Jason’s chest like he wants to be there and let the sound of his heart fill the hollowness of the lives he’s lost.
(Nico just knows when Percy or Hazel are in enough danger to be courting death, the beat of their lives so knotted in his heart that Jason dreads seeing Nico’s telltale grimace, fears what’ll be left the day one of them isn’t fast enough.)
The nights they make it to bed, sex is quiet but intimate, Nico astride Jason’s hips while they rut together inside the cocoon of covers. Nico melts into him, boneless and hot, no louder than a murmur in another language against Jason’s chest. Quiet and easy enough to savor, and Jason does, memorizing Nico's skin under his palms like he doesn’t feel he can most of the time, each kiss returned a treasure hard-won.
(Jason’s never worked up the courage to ask if Nico knows his life as well as he knows his heart.)
Anger varies because Nico gets hissy and when not directed at him, it makes Jason smile where Nico can’t see. He might get an elbow to the ribs if he goes near him, but then Nico’ll remember it’s not Jason’s fault, his sense of fairness winning out, and he’ll make it up to him somehow, a squeeze of the hands, a kiss to his jaw - or just a pull into the kitchen, because Jason’s never known family cooking over a warm stove like Nico has, and Nico sharing it with him makes his chest tight enough to burst. (And grin stupidly for ages, according to Piper, who had taken one look at him the next day and interrogated him for details.)
Jason’ll be tasked the prep work and cleanup because Nico doesn’t trust him to follow recipes, especially unwritten, remembered ones, but that’s fine since it means he’s done first. Nico’s usually at the stove by then and won’t protest if Jason comes up behind him and slides his arms around his hips, low enough to leave his hands free, and tucks his chin on his shoulder to savor it. Family cooking, and they’re not really a traditional family, but families start with two and none of them are a hundred percent traditional - so maybe someday. It feels important anyway, permanent, making memories Jason never had and shaping Nico’s into something less painful, something they can share.
(It’s hard to keep his hands off Nico after, warm, relaxed, and smelling like home, and Jason tells himself careful, careful, careful when he catches the easily bruised swoops of Nico’s hipbones, narrow wrists, and licks the rosemary, basil, garlic off his fingers - first in the kitchen, then grasping against the plush pillows of their bed.)
When Nico’s anger is directed at him, Jason feels the weight of it like his shadow’s shackled in iron. It makes him slow and clumsy, but he hates the lightness associated with Nico disappearing even more. They’ve moved past when Nico would just vanish for weeks and he’s clearly come to think of their house has home, but it still reminds Jason of how impossible it would be to find Nico if he didn’t want to be found.
(Or nowadays, with a frequency Jason doesn’t want to quantify in case he’s mixing up actual incidents with replayed memories, deserved anger makes Nico push Jason back into the bed, couch, wall and keep him in place with a combination of power and sheer presence while Nico explains exactly why Jason’s been a thick idiot and will make it up to him. Jason’s never been too proud to say sorry - unless Percy’s involved - and has probably said it a dozen times already, but he can’t deny apologies feel a lot more fervent when Nico’s got him efficiently pinned, light weight on his waist, thin fingers at his wrists, or just his familiar, once-frightening power heavy enough to overwhelm and possess until all Jason knows is the regal command in Nico’s eyes and his own desperate desire to please.)
Sometimes Nico’s rooted in the now, solicitous in a way that Jason loves and hates. Loves, because Jason imagines this is who Nico would have been without the nightmares and loss - tender and passionate, bursting with curiosity. Jason only remembers that Nico’s younger than him when he’s like this, lounged comfortably against Jason and exploring the muscles of his chest and shoulders. Nico’ll blame him for getting even bigger and both their gazes will wander down to where Jason’s already hard because really, he is that easy. Nico’ll shake his head, maybe only help ease back the foreskin then, but sooner or later, close his exploring fingers around his cock.
These are the times Jason’s control is most tenuous too, and that’s why he hates it. Nico’s guard is down so rarely, part of Jason just feels starved, and his hands clench uselessly in the covers because they would bruise if they were on Nico. He wouldn’t be able to resist flipping them over and glutting himself on Nico’s openness, teeth and tongue on his neck, belly, feet, maybe the other side of the world from careful.
When he can manage some semblance of control, he’ll dare touching Nico when he’s like this, gather him into his arms and start his own tentative exploration. It’s easy to read Nico when he doesn’t hold himself back and Jason can taste the pleasure in his kisses while they learn that Nico’s nipples are achingly sensitive and he’ll come blindingly hard when he can clench down on Jason’s fingers.
Jason memorizes it all - he knows Nico’s moods and above all, he knows Nico; he wasn’t attentive enough at first, but he won’t do it again.
--
Their first time, Jason had left bruises ringed around Nico’s wrists. He hadn’t known at the time, hazy afterglow like breathing ambrosia, so thick and warm he’d only belatedly realized that Nico’s voice was strange when he’d answered Jason’s query with no, it was good. He’d fallen asleep wrapped around Nico, but woken up alone, surprised and hurt.
They were livid on Nico’s skin later, and Percy had seen them first since he and Nico met up most afternoons to spar, with or without Jason. Nico and Percy’s friendship had been reforged on the training fields, and once Percy recognized those traits in Nico that Jason had fallen for instead of taking them for granted, they’d grown pretty close. (Most of Jason is glad, because it’s someone else to protect him and he knows what it means to Nico, but the rest of him is just unreasonably jealous.)
Percy had confronted him about the bruises, and Jason was feeling even guiltier at the end of it because he hadn’t known. He’d held Nico like he always held him, but sex muddles his head, and he should have checked after, begged for forgiveness and promised it’d never happen again.
(Percy had confronted him when Jason and Nico got together too - Percy had been protective because he thought Jason was messing with Nico, which implied he couldn’t understand why someone would be interested romantically in Nico - and well, Jason had gotten angrier and angrier until he punched Percy in the face, and it led straight to a fight that ripped through camp.)
When Nico returns that night, Jason is careful in his expression of relief - he hugs him, but not too tight, which he’s grateful for when he sees the bruises extend to Nico’s hips. Nico accepts his apologies with rolled eyes and tells him not to worry because they’ve all had much worse, but Jason catches him touching them later, pressing them until he sucks in a breath, lost deep in thought. They sleep together, but they don’t have sex again until the bruises are healed.
Nico has no compunction kicking him out of bed if he does something he doesn’t like (as Jason had learned the first time he tried to get Nico worked up immediately after one orgasm), but those things Nico doesn’t realize he doesn’t like until later are dangerous, and Jason won’t risk everything they have together again.
--
“You know, it’s okay to touch if you wanted to.” Nico’s sitting low on his hips, and his gaze is fixed where Jason’s grip might be tight enough to tear their sheets. Which is fine, these aren’t their favorite sheets anyway.
Jason breathes, exhales, and lets go, knuckles so stiff he hadn’t even realized, distracted by the heat between Nico’s slick thighs. “Sorry,” he says. Nico’s gorgeous like this, the lights dim but enough to catch the warmth of his skin, healthier than Jason remembers from so long ago. It’s not bright enough to see the scars, and Jason’s body is still pounding with blood - he’d practically stripped Nico on the battlefield after he’d seen him go down, and even if he knows it’s only a glancing claw swipe already gone with ambrosia, some primal part of him still wants to climb over Nico and shield him in the safety of their bed. It’d been a struggle not to when Nico had pushed him down and all it would have taken is a shift in balance.
Nico isn’t ready to let it go and leans over him, propping himself up on Jason’s chest so he can look into his eyes. Heavy with afterglow, and it would be easy, Nico would go bonelessly if he tipped them over - the problem is what comes after. “You do it a lot,” Nico muses. He nods at Jason’s hands, which he still hasn’t dared put on Nico, not when his thoughts are running so possessive. “Isn’t the point of all this to touch?”
Nico reaches for his hands then, and Jason laces their fingers together, bringing them up for a kiss. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he confesses. Disbelief in Nico’s eyes, and okay, it sounds a little absurd considering the manticore not hours before. “The bruises,” Jason hastens to explain.
He can practically hear Nico thinking, deliberating, and his anger catches Jason like a blow to the gut. “I told you that didn’t matter!”
“But you were strange about it,” Jason gasps, and he reaches up to stroke Nico’s cheek, putting all his fear and earnestness into it. “I didn’t want sex to make you uncomfortable.”
It must get through, because Nico’s anger seems to fade, Jason feeling it seep from his bones. His expression softens, and Jason feels warm, because it looks a lot like affection. “It wasn’t the bruises,” Nico says finally. “It took me some time to be okay with the rest of it.” Jason feels the blush rather than sees it, hears the quiet confession. “And how much I liked it.”
Jason can’t help but grin then, because he’d known, really, but it's another thing to hear Nico say it. Even if they don’t have sex too often, content to cuddle most nights, it’s pretty fantastic when they do. Nico shoves at his chest irritably. “Stop puffing up like some sort of harpy.”
Jason pushes himself up off the pillows and winds his arms around Nico’s waist, putting their foreheads together. Nico’s still open and responsive and he can’t help himself. “Is it okay if there are bruises sometimes?” he asks tentatively.
Nico’s mouth is like flame when he kisses Jason, and he releases Nico from his hold, feeling his hands open and close, empty in the cool air. “More than sometimes is okay,” Nico tells him, and Jason’s enraptured by the fire in his eyes, so close to the surface he could be burned. “Kind of missed them.”
It’s like all the air has been knocked out of him, nothing to do with Nico’s heritage for once. Jason looks down at his hands, and when Nico follows his gaze, he sighs in exasperation and returns them squarely to his hips. “You’re ruining the afterglow,” he accuses.
Jason thumbs the thin stretched skin over Nico’s hipbones. “So you won’t kick me out of bed if we go again?” he asks hopefully. Nico nods jerkily, and makes a breathless sound when Jason slides his fingers down his spine, curving into his touch.
Just a bit longer, Jason tells himself, might as well get it all out. “Do you know my life like you know Percy’s?” he asks, pressing his advantage before his courage flees.
Nico does give him a look then, half arousal, half anger, and part of Jason expected that, or silence. But Nico's here, and his, even if his self-preservation instinct is quailing in terror. Before it can distract him, Jason flips them over and stretches out over Nico, something in him just happy with how well they fit.
“Yes, idiot,” Nico hisses, and bites him when Jason beams into the kiss. He deserves it, and promptly learns how easy it is to coax sounds out of Nico when he scrapes his teeth down his throat.
So maybe Jason knows Nico’s moods and how to read him, but sometimes, he just needs to listen.