# Chapter 21: Wearing His Past In the shadows of Mount Othrys, shrouded in mist and ancient power, Morpheus materialized before the obsidian throne. The dream god's form shifted subtly, never quite settling into one definite shape as he approached the imposing figure seated before him. "Lord Kronos," Morpheus bowed, his voice like whispers in a sleeping mind. "I bring news from Camp Half-Blood." The Titan lord's golden eyes gleamed in the darkness, time itself seeming to slow around his partially reformed body. "Speak," he commanded, his voice grating like the turning of ancient gears. "The plan has succeeded beyond our expectations," Morpheus reported, a hint of pride coloring his normally detached tone. "Percy Jackson has been neutralized." Kronos leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued. "Explain." "The son of Hades has done what we could not. Percy Jackson is no longer a demigod—he has been reduced to a mortal. A weak, pathetic mortal." Morpheus allowed himself a small smile. "His godly powers, his divine essence, his physical strength—all gone. Transferred to the son of Hades." "Interesting," Kronos mused, his golden eyes calculating. "I had not expected the boy to be so... thorough." "Desire is a powerful motivator," Morpheus replied. "The son of Hades harbored an obsession with Jackson that made him the perfect pawn. He now possesses all that once made Jackson formidable—his power, his strength, even his divine essence." A low, satisfied laugh rumbled from Kronos, like the sound of mountains crumbling. "And the prophecy child? What has become of him?" "A shell of his former self. Weak, confused, and entirely dependent on di Angelo. He poses no threat to your plans now, my lord. The greatest hero of Olympus has fallen." "And the gods? Have they noticed this... transformation?" "They remain unaware," Morpheus assured him. "The boy's power was stolen gradually, and the remaining campers believe it to be part of some divine test. By the time Poseidon realizes what has happened to his son, it will be too late." Kronos settled back against his throne, satisfaction evident in his ancient face. "You have done well, Morpheus. The removal of Percy Jackson eliminates our greatest obstacle. The prophecy cannot be fulfilled by a powerless mortal." "There is more, my lord," Morpheus added. "The boy's spirit is breaking. The son of Hades has taken more than his power—he has taken his dignity, his identity. The hero who once defied gods and titans now submits willingly to his own desecration." "Perfect," Kronos said, his voice like ice cracking. "Let him live as an example of what happens to those who stand against me. When I rise to power, I will keep him as a trophy—the fallen hero of Olympus, reduced to nothing." "As you wish, lord Kronos." Morpheus bowed again, deeper this time. "Continue to monitor the situation," Kronos commanded. "Ensure that di Angelo remains... distracted with his new toy. We cannot risk him discovering our role in his transformation." "It will be done, my lord." With that, Morpheus's form dissolved into mist, leaving Kronos alone with his thoughts of victory and vengeance. --- Dawn's early light filtered through the cabin windows, painting golden streaks across the tangled sheets. Nico awoke slowly, savoring the warm weight pressed against his chest. Percy was still asleep, his golden curls splayed across Nico's shoulder, one slender arm draped over Nico's torso. Nico studied Percy's face in the morning light. The son of Poseidon looked so different now—softer, more delicate. His previously short-cropped blond hair had grown to shoulder length overnight, thanks to Nico's manipulation of his stolen power. The golden curls framed Percy's face beautifully, making him look almost angelic in his vulnerability. There was something deeply satisfying about having Percy—once the mighty hero of Olympus—curled against him like a kitten seeking warmth. The smaller boy's breathing was slow and even, his face peaceful in sleep. He looked so different from the Percy Jackson that had arrived at camp years ago—the confident, powerful demigod who had saved the world multiple times. Percy stirred, his eyes fluttering open to reveal their sea-blue depths. For a moment, confusion clouded his expression, then recognition dawned as he realized he was wrapped around Nico. A blush crept across his cheeks, but he didn't pull away. "Morning," Percy murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. His eyes traveled down Nico's bare chest, taking in the muscular torso that had once been his own. "I guess Hades still hasn't changed us back yet." Nico suppressed a smile at Percy's continued belief in his lie. "It seems not," he agreed, reaching out to brush a golden curl from Percy's face. "Maybe it takes longer than we thought." Percy nodded, accepting the explanation without question. He sat up slowly, wincing slightly from the previous night's activities. The movement caused the blanket to slip down, revealing his slender, unmarked torso—a stark contrast to Nico's newly powerful physique. "Your hair grew," Nico observed, fingering a golden curl that now reached Percy's shoulder. "It looks good on you." Percy reached up to touch his hair, surprise evident on his face as he realized how long it had become. "That's weird. Do you think it's part of the... change?" "Probably," Nico said, watching Percy's reaction carefully. "This trial affects different aspects of our appearance." Percy nodded again, accepting this explanation as well. He seemed less disturbed by the change in his hair than by the loss of his strength—as if the longer locks were just another symptom of his transformation rather than a deliberate manipulation on Nico's part. "I should get dressed," Percy said, glancing around for his clothes from the previous day. They were scattered across the floor, testament to their hurried removal. "Wait," Nico said, an idea forming in his mind. "Why don't you wear your old training outfit today?" Percy frowned. "It'll be way too big now." "I know," Nico admitted. "But maybe it will help. You know, like... if you wear the clothes you had when you were strong, it might help you get your muscles back faster. Like your body remembering what it used to be." It was a ridiculous suggestion, of course—nothing would return Percy's strength to him. But Nico wanted to see Percy in his old clothes, wanted to witness the visual reminder of how far the mighty hero had fallen. Percy considered this, a spark of hope lighting his eyes. "You think that would work?" "It's worth trying," Nico said, keeping his voice encouraging. "My dad's testing us, right? Maybe he wants to see if you can find your way back to your old self." "That makes sense," Percy said, nodding eagerly. "Like, I have to prove I deserve my strength back." "Exactly." Nico smiled, pleased at how easily Percy accepted his suggestions now. "Let me get them for you." Nico slipped out of bed, not bothering to cover his nakedness as he moved around the cabin. He was proud of his new body and enjoyed the way Percy's eyes followed him, a mixture of envy and something else—something hungrier—in their blue depths. He rummaged through Percy's clothes chest, finding the outfit Percy had worn most often for training—the training blue tights he had gifted him a few days ago. They were unwashed, still carrying the scent of Percy's former self—the masculine pheromones and sweat from when he was at the height of his power. Nico brought the clothes back to the bed, offering them to Percy with a small smile. "Here. These should work." Percy took them hesitantly, running his fingers over the familiar fabric. "They feel like they belong to someone else now," he admitted quietly. "They're still yours," Nico assured him, though the words felt hollow even to himself. "Just... temporarily too big." Percy nodded and stood up, his slender form completely exposed in the morning light. Nico didn't bother looking away, enjoying the view of Percy's diminished body—the narrow shoulders, the flat chest, the thin arms and legs, and the embarrassingly small manhood that hung between his thighs. Percy pulled on the t-shirt first, and the effect was immediate and striking. The shirt that had once fit his muscular frame perfectly now hung on him like a tent, the neckline slipping off one shoulder to expose his collarbone. The hem reached nearly to his knees, making him look even smaller and more childlike. "This is ridiculous," Percy muttered, but he continued dressing, stepping into the shorts next. They were equally oversized, and he had to roll the waistband several times to keep them from falling off his narrow hips. Even then, they hung low, threatening to slip down with any significant movement. The overall effect was exactly what Nico had hoped for—Percy looked utterly pathetic, a child playing dress-up in adult clothes. The contrast between his current form and what the clothes had been designed to fit made his transformation even more apparent, more humiliating. "How do I look?" Percy asked, spreading his arms in a gesture that was meant to be self-deprecating but came across as simply sad. "Like you're wearing someone else's clothes," Nico said truthfully, then added with deliberate cruelty disguised as encouragement: "But it's good to remember what you're working towards. What you'll be again." Percy nodded, clinging to that false hope. "You're right. This will help me remember." Nico watched as Percy moved around the cabin, the oversized clothes shifting and sliding on his diminished form. There was something deeply arousing about seeing Percy like this—dressed in the clothes of his former self, constantly reminded of what he had lost. The scent was doing things to Nico as well. The masculine pheromones clinging to the unwashed training clothes—Percy's original alpha scent—mixed with the new, submissive omega pheromones now emanating from his body. The combination was intoxicating, creating an olfactory representation of Percy's fall from power that made Nico's blood heat. Percy bent down to pick up a fallen pillow, and the shorts slipped dangerously low on his hips despite the rolled waistband. The t-shirt slid off his shoulder again, exposing more of his neck and collarbone. The sight of Percy struggling with clothes that had once fit him perfectly sent a surge of desire through Nico. "Let me help you with that," Nico said, approaching Percy from behind. He reached around, supposedly to adjust the waistband of Percy's shorts, but instead let his hands linger on Percy's hips. "Thanks," Percy murmured, seemingly unaware of Nico's intentions. "Everything's so big now." "Not everything," Nico whispered, deliberately cruel as his hand slid around to brush against the front of Percy's shorts, feeling the small bulge there. Percy froze at the touch, a shiver running through his slender frame. "Nico, what are you doing?" "What does it look like?" Nico replied, his voice deepening with desire. He pressed closer, allowing Percy to feel his arousal against his back. "Seeing you like this, in your old clothes... it reminds me of how things have changed." Percy remained still, caught between Nico's body and the bed. "We shouldn't," he said, but his voice lacked conviction. "It's morning, and people will wonder where we are." "Let them wonder," Nico growled, his hands moving under the oversized t-shirt to explore Percy's bare skin. "I can't help myself, Percy. Not when you look like this." The contradiction was driving Nico wild—the powerful, masculine scent of Percy's former self clinging to the clothes, combined with the delicate, submissive form now wearing them. It was like having both versions of Percy at once—the hero he had admired and the pet he now owned. "The way these clothes hang on you," Nico continued, one hand sliding up to Percy's chest while the other remained on his hip. "It shows how much you've changed. How much smaller you are now." Percy made a small, distressed sound, but he didn't pull away. If anything, he seemed to lean back slightly into Nico's touch, his body responding even as his mind might be resisting. "These clothes used to fit you perfectly," Nico whispered directly into Percy's ear, his breath hot against the sensitive skin. "Now look at you. Swimming in them. So small, so weak." "Stop," Percy said, but it was barely audible, more breath than word. Nico's hand found one of Percy's nipples through the thin fabric of the t-shirt, rolling it between his fingers. Percy gasped, his head falling back against Nico's shoulder. "You don't want me to stop," Nico observed, feeling Percy's nipple harden under his touch. "Your body knows what it needs." Percy didn't respond, but his quickened breathing and the way he pressed back against Nico spoke volumes. Nico turned him around suddenly, pushing him down onto the bed. Percy looked up at him, wide-eyed, the oversized t-shirt slipping off both shoulders now, making him look even more vulnerable. "I'm going to take you while you're wearing these," Nico declared, his voice thick with desire. "While you're reminded of what you used to be. What you'll never be again." A flicker of resistance passed across Percy's face at those last words, a momentary confusion at Nico's slip. But before he could question it, Nico was on him, capturing his mouth in a demanding kiss that drove all thoughts from his mind. Nico's hands were everywhere, pushing up the oversized t-shirt, tugging down the too-large shorts. Percy's small body was lost in the fabric, making Nico's task more difficult but also more arousing. There was something perversely exciting about unwrapping Percy from the clothes of his former self. "Nico, please," Percy gasped when they broke for air, though it wasn't clear if he was pleading for Nico to stop or to continue. "Please what?" Nico demanded, tugging the shorts down Percy's legs, leaving the t-shirt on but pushed up to expose his chest and stomach. Percy didn't answer, his face flushed with conflicting emotions—shame, desire, confusion. Nico didn't need him to articulate it. He could see the evidence of Percy's arousal, small but unmistakable. "Your body knows," Nico repeated, his hand wrapping around Percy's hardness. "It knows what it was made for now." Percy moaned, his hips bucking involuntarily into Nico's touch. The sound inflamed Nico further, driving him to greater urgency. He released Percy only long enough to shed his own clothes, revealing the powerful body that had once belonged to the boy beneath him. "Look at me," Nico commanded, positioning himself between Percy's legs. "Look at what you used to be." Percy obeyed, his blue eyes traveling over Nico's muscular form with a mixture of longing and resignation. The contrast between them was stark—Nico powerful and imposing, Percy diminished and fragile. Nico reached for the lubricant they had used the night before, quickly preparing Percy's body for him. Despite his urgency, he was careful—Percy was still new to this, and his smaller body required gentle handling. "You're still wearing the shirt," Nico observed as he positioned himself at Percy's entrance. "Good. I want you to feel it against your skin. I want you to remember." Percy made a small sound of distress, but his body opened for Nico, accepting him despite the burn and stretch. Nico pushed forward slowly, watching Percy's face contort with the mixture of pain and pleasure that came with being filled. "That's it," Nico encouraged as he bottomed out inside Percy. "Take all of me. Like you were made to." Percy's eyes were squeezed shut, his golden curls spread out on the pillow, the oversized orange shirt bunched up around his chest. His small hands clutched at Nico's arms, feeling the muscles that had once been his own flex and move under his fingers. Nico began to move, setting a rhythm that was less gentle than the night before. Each thrust drove Percy up the bed, the large t-shirt rubbing against his sensitive skin, a constant reminder of what he had lost. "Open your eyes," Nico demanded. "Look at me while I take you." Percy's eyes fluttered open, meeting Nico's intense gaze. There was something broken in those sea-blue depths, a resignation that hadn't been there before. It only inflamed Nico's desire further. "Who do these clothes belong to?" Nico asked, punctuating the question with a particularly deep thrust. "M-me," Percy gasped out. "And who do you belong to?" Nico pressed, his rhythm never faltering. Percy hesitated, and Nico slowed his movements, denying Percy the pleasure he was beginning to crave. "Who, Percy?" he repeated, hovering on the edge of stillness. "You," Percy finally whispered, the word barely audible. "I belong to you." "That's right," Nico growled, resuming his pace with renewed vigor. "Mine. All mine." The pace increased, Nico's control slipping as his pleasure built. Percy beneath him, wearing the clothes of his former glory while submitting completely to Nico's dominance, was the most erotic thing he had ever experienced. "You're never going back," Nico said, the words tumbling out in his passion. "This is who you are now. Who you'll always be." Percy didn't argue, too lost in sensation to register the full meaning of Nico's words. His small body was rocking with each of Nico's thrusts, the oversized t-shirt bunching and shifting around him, the smell of his former self mixing with the scent of their current activities. Nico felt his climax approaching, his rhythm becoming erratic. "Inside you," he grunted. "Going to finish inside you. Mark you as mine." Percy nodded, beyond words now. His own small arousal was leaking onto his stomach, leaving wet spots on the blue fabric of the tights. The sight pushed Nico over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, Nico buried himself deep inside Percy and let go, filling him with his release. The sensation triggered Percy's own climax, his small body convulsing beneath Nico as he spilled onto the blue shirt that had once fit his heroic frame. For several moments, they remained connected, both breathing heavily. Then Nico withdrew, looking down at his handiwork with satisfaction. Percy lay spread-eagled on the bed, the oversized trainning tights soaked with sweat and semen, pushed up to expose his slender torso. The golden curls that now reached his shoulders were tangled and damp, framing his flushed face. His legs were still spread, and Nico could see his own release leaking from Percy's body onto the sheets. It was a picture of complete subjugation—the hero of Olympus reduced to a used, marked plaything, still wearing the clothes of his former glory. "Perfect," Nico murmured, his eyes drinking in the sight. "Absolutely perfect."