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“I can’t believe you’re sick on Halloween. You never get sick! And after I spent all week working on our costumes…”
Percy blew his nose, the unattractive nose drowning out the rest of Annabeth’s complaint, and he groaned, tossing the used tissue into the bin beside the bed and flopping back into the mound of pillows propped against the headboard.
Secretly, he was a little relieved he wouldn’t have to go out this year. Annabeth’s love of cheesy, coordinated couple costumes was one of her more ridiculous quirks, one Percy had quickly realized he’d have to grin and bear through each year if didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
It was only one night a year, unless, of course, the holiday fell on a weekend, and Annabeth usually picked out decent costumes for them both. If her costume was short enough or made her wear the thigh high leather boots she’d invested in for her Bat Girl costume, Percy didn’t care in the slightest about his. Last year, when she’d insisted they dress up as Raggedy Ann and Andy, had been the rare exception — he was still getting teased by Jason and Leo for that one and had done his best to make sure all evidence of that night was erased off their computer.
“Sorry,” he replied hoarsely. “I probably shouldn’t have gone out in the rain to chase that empousa down Monday. Didn’t think I’d get sick.”
“Mhmm,” Annabeth said from in the bathroom, where she was applying the finishing touches to her make up. He heard the light clack of her setting down her foundation on the counter. “It’s a pity I didn’t choose zombies this year. I wouldn’t have had to do your make up at all. Your groans are pretty realistic, too.”
“Oh, har har,” he grumbled, pulling the blanket up around his bare shoulders. “Come out here and say that to your poor, sick boyfriend’s face, Chase.”
“In a minute, I’m almost finished.”
Percy sneezed, which was quickly followed up with one of those zombie-like groans. He reached for the remote and flipped through the channels, settling on AMC’s horror movie of the hour. He hoped it wasn’t a repeat of one of the Friday the 13th movies. He and Annabeth had already sat through a marathon of them last weekend, although he’d missed the ending to Jason Goes to Hell because Annabeth had insisted on —
“Okay, so how do I look?”
He glanced away from the screen, where Freddie Krueger was about to gut some poor teenager, and at his girlfriend, who was standing at the side of the bed, hands on her hips. She’d styled her hair in long, elegant curls, and wore a short black and white dress with a bright red cape and a picnic basket tucked in the crook of her arm. Percy was more interested in the white thigh-high tights and the straps of the garter that snuck up under her skirt than anything else she had on.
“My, Little Red Riding Hood,” he said with a grin, “what big breasts you have.”
Annabeth swatted him in the shoulder, but she was smiling. “Being sick hasn’t dampened your terrible sense of humor, I see.”
“No, your line is supposed to be, ‘All the better to seduce you with, my dear,’” Percy replied, taking her hand and tugging her into bed with him. The blankets slipped down his waist as she shifted on top of him, straddling his lap with those long legs of hers, her petticoat and skirts billowing up around her hips. “You are trying to seduce me, right?”
“I’m trying to get out the door and to Rachel’s before you muss my costume up too much,” she said, her voice catching as his fingers slipped under those tempting garter straps. It didn’t escape his notice that she didn’t push his hands away. “I didn’t just put this on so you could ogle me, Seaweed Brain.”
“Rachel’s schmacel’s,” he said. “Her parties are always the same anyway. You’ll have more fun with me.”
“I promised I’d be there. Are you sure you don’t want to come along? You’d make an even better Big Bad Wolf with all the huffing and puffing you’re doing.”
Percy shook his head, arching up to press his mouth against her exposed collar bone. “No. You should stay though.”
“Oh?” Annabeth said, batting her eyelashes. Her eyeliner made her look wide eyed and innocent, but her lips are a full, temptress red. “Do you want me to stay and put on that nurse’s outfit you like so much?”
That thought had crossed his mind once or twice tonight; go figure Annabeth would’ve thought of it too. And as much as he likes that costume, he likes the one she’s in much better.
“No,” he rasps against her neck, sucking a bruise into the spot behind her ear. Her hips undulate into his, creating delicious friction that heated his blood. “Keep it on. You look good enough to eat.”
He gripped her hips, grinding up into her and kissing his way back down her neck, toward the tops of her breasts. Annabeth’s hands sunk into his hair as her chest heaved, and Percy knew he had her —
And then, Percy sneezed. Right into her cleavage.
Well, fuck.
“Ick, Percy,” Annabeth scolded, pushing him away from her and climbing off his lap. She glanced down at her chest, cautiously wiping at the area he’d sneezed on. “What’d you do that for?”
“I can’t help it!” he moaned, sneezing again as she got off the bed. He reached for his box of tissues. “Ugh, I hate being sick!”
Annabeth smiled sympathetically and brushed the dark fringe of his hair away from his forehead, feeling his temperature. “How about this. I won’t stay at Rachel’s too long, and I’ll bring back all the blue candy I can get my hands on as a consolation prize. Is that okay?”
Percy grunted, pulling the blankets back up and burrowing into the pillows. Sensing his foul mood, Annabeth kissed his forehead and whispered in his ear, “And I’ll wear the costume again, once you won’t get snot all over me.”
“I didn’t get snot al over you! And you better not tell Piper about this! You know she’s a blabber mouth.”
“My, what a big worrier you are, Percy.”
“Annabeth. I mean it.”
She laughed and kissed him on the nose. “Relax and get some sleep. I’ll be back soon.”
Annabeth pulled back and flipped her hood up over her curls, before she turned and walked out of the bedroom, her hips swaying in the way that always drove Percy to madness. It was completely unfair of her to walk out in those stupid garters, in that stupid short costume, while he was stuff sniveling into his pillows.
“I hate Halloween,” he muttered and pulled a blanket over his head.