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Nico’s opinion of Frank was dropping faster than Icarus falling from the sky.
“Uh, Frank?” Percy asked, his hands still deep within the Son of Hades’ pockets. “Don’t you have to go help Reyna?”
“And Hazel?” He asked, sounding a bit harsher than he intended, but the Son of Mars was being a bit immature.
Frank bobbed his head and hopped up on the beaten up couch’s armrest, placing him just out of either Greek’s reach. Not that either of them were going to harm the Roman in any way, but the temptation was strong for Nico to flick him with his finger.
“Do…. Do you need some help, man?” Percy asked, and Nico had to stop himself from whining when he felt the older teen’s hands begin to slide out of his jeans. “Something up with the cockatrice?”
Frank paused for a moment as if in deep thought before looking them both in the eye-
And unleashed an explosion of fetid, foul, evil chunky brown liquid from his rear on the padded armrest.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Both he and his boyfriend screamed in terror and disgust. Percy leaping up with Nico still in his arms and running to the corner of the living room in a single stride. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!
The day had started off… interesting.
A cockatrice had been spotted within the supposed sanctuary of New Rome in the early hours of the morning- an odd coincidence considering the day before the same type of monster had him and Percy trapped in a pear tree for a few hours. Regardless, the creature’s presence forced the city into a state of lockdown until it could be slain, removed, or got bored and wander off. Until one of the three scenarios occured though, the only people who were to be allowed in the streets were active members of the legion- which neither Percy or himself were.
They of course tried to volunteer to help, but Reyna refused. His adoptive-sister waving off their requests and telling them to stay put until the 39th Weasel Cohort earned their yearly funding.
Neither he nor Percy could figure out if she was joking or not…
Unfortunately though, Hazel and Frank were active members of the legion, and were to report for duty. Frank was doubly needed as he was a praetor and could shapeshift into the cockatrice’s mortal enemy: a weasel. No one actually knew for certain if the Son of Mars would be immune to the monster’s deadly gaze while shapeshifted, but that was a risk Reyna was willing to take.
So, that left him and Percy alone in the apartment.
They tried to pass the time by watching television (Percy of course picking American Dad) but his anxiety over the safety of Hazel and Reyna (and Frank too, he guessed) grew with each passing moment. By the time Percy started the third episode, he was ringing his hand and pacing the length of the living room at speeds Hermes would be envious of.
He would have been fine pacing back-and-forth with worry until Hazel returned home, but Percy not wanting to see him suffer in the slightest, decided he needed a distraction.
And distract him he did.
The Son of Poseidon had grabbed one of the loops of his jeans and lead him to the couch with what he could only describe as a predatory grin. Slightly chapped lips that tasted of sea salt and red vines found his own before he even sat down, and shortly after all his concerns were replaced with nothing but raw want for the man he loved. At some point he replaced his seat on the couch with straddling Percy’s hips, with Percy enthusiastically shoving his hands in his back pockets; which only spurred his desire for the green-eyed demigod all the more. He shed his jacket as fast as humanly possible, and was reaching for Percy’s shirt-
When Frank flew into the room all a flutter.
Literally.
The Son of Mars haven taken the form of a turtledove.
“DUDE!” Percy shouted in disgust; rapidly cycling between pointing at the disgusting goop on the couch and the avian praetor. “WE’RE SORRY WE WERE MAKING OUT ON YOUR COUCH-”
“BUT YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE SO DISGUSTING ABOUT IT!” He finished for his boyfriend. His face wrinkled up in a disgust that had previously been reserved for visits to Hannibal’s manure pile. “WHAT IS HAZEL GOING TO THINK?!”
Frank hopped off the armrest and tilted his head to look at the puddle of filth that had exploded from his rear.
“YEAH! THAT!” Percy cried.
The Canadian looked back at them, ruffled his wings once, and cooed.
“We are NOT cleaning that!” He hissed, thrusting one finger at the pile of bird filth.
Frank leaned back. His beady, black bird eyes widening in what he could only assume was indignation. The praetor took a quick glance at the mess before cooing at them again.
“Dude! Don’t look at us like that!” Percy returned with an unbelieving laugh. “You’re the one who crapped on the couch! YOUR Couch!”
Frank flicked his tongue past his beak.
“I don’t care! You could have told us to-” He stopped and ran a hand down his face with an angry growl that would have made Cerberus proud. “WOULD YOU TURN BACK TO NORMAL?!”
The Son of Mars blinked twice at the demand and then took a step towards the forever tainted armrest. He then glanced over his shoulder at him and Percy, and-
Swallowed one of the partially digested seeds in the feces.
“WHAT TH-” Percy dropped to his knees and emptied the contents of his stomach on the floor. While the sight and sound was enough to make him woozy, the moment he caught a whiff of his boyfriend’s partially digested breakfast, the Son of Hades was on the knees retching as well.
“YOU’RE SICK, FRANK!” Percy shouted between their alternating retching. “REAL SICK!”
“I’M TELLING-” He emptied what little remained of his breakfast on the floor with a painful groan. “I’M TELLING HAZEL! MY SISTER IS NOT DATING SOMEONE WHO-” He looked up at his sister’s soon-to-be-ex and his threats died in his throat. “Huh?”
“Uh… Neeks?” Percy inquired before gulping and belching. “Am I seeing double, or are there-”
“Two turtledoves...” He whispered in confused awe at the second bird pecking at the filth. “Where-”
There was the familiar jingle and jangle of keys being inserted in the lock, immediately followed by the apartment door swinging open.
“Hey guys,” Frank’s voice called out from the small entryway. “Cockatrice situation is under control now. Turns out, I am immune to its gaze when I’m a weasel, but that was not something-” The praetor stepped into the room, a brown paper bag filled with groceries in each muscular arm “-I wanted...” The Son of Mars’ voice began to trail off as he took in the horror show that before him. “To find… Why are there two turtledoves on the-” The grocery bags hit the floor, their contents scattering in every direction. “WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED HERE?!”
“Frank?” Hazel’s sweet voice called out. “Is everything- MY LIVING ROOM!”