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Merc's Metamorphs

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Chapter 2: Frank

The hardest part of being Merc, the Metamorph wasn't facing off against a variety of opponents with powers of their own; it wasn't living in a moral grey area of doing questionable activities for money; it wasn't even the prospect of being in mortal danger during some of the more deadly tasks. The hardest part Frank found about living the double life of a college student and a Metamorph was the long nights.

Not only did they get in the way of studying and socializing, but they also resulted in a major sleep deficit. The morning following his escape from Legendary HQ could not have illustrated that any clearer when he was awakened with a start by Juan banging on his door. "Hey! Pendejo! You're gonna be late!"

Despite how introverted Juan was when not in his Metamorph state he still had a knack for being just a little grating. Fortunately, his surly disposition and no-nonsense approach to a wake up call was useful on the rare occurrence when Frank forgot that his cell was broken and the alarm was not going to go off. Quickly throwing the covers off, he glanced to his broken phone and, quickly pulled out his replacement; it only had a 11% charge! Connecting it to the charger, he leapt out of bed and quickly went through the process of getting dressed.

His underwear was followed by a shirt, and then his socks before he put on his jeans; he used to get grief from Chance all the time about the order in which he got dressed-- apparently underwear, pants, shirt then socks was more traditional, but Frank found that going in that order meant that some clothes got in the way of others; why bother tucking in your shirt if you already had it on when you donned your pants? No need to roll up your pants if your socks were already on. It made sense to him, anyway.

Finishing off his ensemble by grabbing his glasses, Frank did a quick check to make sure that all of his classwork was in his backpack (it was) before throwing it over his shoulder and making his way out of the room. The front door closed, signaling that Juan had just made his exit while Chance, still dressed in only his underwear, was lounging in the kitchen at the small table set up there eating cereal out of a mixing bowl with an extra large spoon, reading the back of a cereal box.

Circling around his second housemate, Frank grabbed a banana off the counter and filled up his thermos with the remainder of the coffee Juan hadn't finished off. Chance looked up from his cereal box. "Slept in again, huh?"

Frank usually left just after Juan, whose morning routine was so like-clockwork that it was as reliable as a sundial under a cloudless sky. The young man set the empty coffee pot back on the stand before glancing to Chance. "Forgot to set my damn alarm."

The slightly chubby white boy just nodded sagely, eyes returning to his cereal box. "Yep... that'll do it."

Despite how uppity and bombastic Demon was, Chance, in his human form was much more subdued and laid back. Having been Frank's first boyfriend, Frank liked to think he had a bit of peek behind the curtain of his roommate, realizing that the tall, pudgy guy with a Brooklyn accent looked imposing but was, in fact, a total pushover. The two of them had grown up together, and Frank honestly had trouble thinking of anyone who was so mild-mannered and even keeled. Realizing he had a few minutes until his cell had a reasonable charge for the day, Frank took a seat opposite his oldest friend. Smirking, he called Chance out on the cereal box reading. "So... you solve the maze yet?"

Chance smirked, setting the box down. "Word search on Berry Crunch. It's Cinnamon Squares that has the maze."

There was something about Chance's smile that was infectious and, despite the rough start to his day, Frank found himself grinning. "Well, either way I'm surprised that you're not cramming. Don't you have a programming test coming up?"

Chance was studying to get into the IT field and, despite being laid back, had a real head for computer work; Frank would have been jealous if he had any interest in computers beyond word processing and porn. His roommate finally set the box down completely in order to address him. "I'm acing the class... even if I bomb the midterm I'll probably still get away with an A-..." there was a pregnant pause in the conversation before Chance added "What about you?"

Frank shrugged in response. "Eh... I'll do fine. Kinda jealous though-- programming is probably easier than poly sci."

His companion dropped his spoon meaningfully into the bowl and shot Frank a bland, dead-eye stare. "You're kidding, right?"

Offering a grin back, Frank shrugged. "I mean... YOU'RE acing it, so how hard can it really be?"

It was an innocent jab, and they both knew it; although he resembled a line-backer, Chance was NOT a dumb jock. He also had a sharp wit. "Why don't you join me in class one of these days and you can see just how easy it is compared to a 'soft science' like the study of politics?"

Frank didn't relent. "Political Science is more than just the study of politics... it explores comparative perspectives on understanding political ideas, ideologies, processes, behaviors and divisions. It covers groups, classes, governments, diplomacy, law, strategy, war, and--"

Chance picked up his spoon again. "I already don't get enough sleep, Frank... you want me to nap during the day to make up for it?"

The two shared a laugh and, as Chance polished off his cereal he glanced to his own phone, which was screen-up beside him. "Hmm... quarter til nine."

Nine o clock was the time Frank's class began and he still hadn't put on his shoes. His farewell to his classmate was very succinct as he ran off back to his bedroom. "FUCK! I'm gonna be late!"

Frank had to race back to his room and don his sneakers before grabbing his phone. He stuffed his shoelaces into his shoes without bothering to tie them in order to save time. Racing across the campus, he managed to make it into the lecture hall with less than two minutes to spare. He raced to room 112 just in time to see Professor Monroe approaching the open door from within the class; Frank slid in past him just in time to avoid being locked out; Professor Monroe made no secret that he closed (and locked) his classroom at nine sharp. Frank received a nod of acknowledgement as the professor made his way toward the front of the class.

Settling into his seat in the middle of the classroom, Frank pulled out his laptop for note taking and took several seconds to catch his breath. Professor Monroe, meanwhile, began writing several concepts on the white board. Many other instructors at the university chose to use a projector with slides, but Oswald Monroe was a traditionalist in many ways, which meant white board and dry erase markers. Frank, in general, enjoyed his poly sci classes but most lectures were a boring time-filler. Once the professor had written down the subject of the day's lecture, however, the topic very easily managed to grab Frank's attention.

Professor Monroe looked back to the class, gesturing to what he'd written. "The subject matter of today's lecture is in regards to the privileged social, political, and legal status of Metamorphs in today's society."

No discussion of Metamorphs was complete without first discussing Legendary Heroes and, in that regard, Professor Moroe followed the formula perfectly. Frank sat patiently listening to the lengthy discussion of why Legendary Heroes were held in such high regards and how they were exempt from most legal proceedings-- it was by nature of the work they did; holding them accountable for bystander injuries, property damage and the occasional loss of life would have inhibited their ability to be the heroes everyone knew they were.

He continued by discussing several other lesser-known Legendary Hero squads aside from the globally recognized 'Legendary Unlimited'. The Professor went over the most well-known hero groups for each of the major player nations in global politics, briefly discussed a few of the continental hero groups (Frank personally liked Iiradat Alqadr, a Legendary Hero from the Middle East-- he had a really nice ass, even if, from what Frank heard, the guy was a bit of an ass himself).

The textbook approach and sugary over-generalization of Legendary Heroes almost made Frank gag; Legendary Heroes were institutionalized, glorified thugs but none of the general populace realized it. Sighing, he listened to the following discussion from the class, all but rolling his eyes as his fellow classmates ran the gambit of various questions about "But, would a Legendary Hero get in trouble for 'x'?" The answer was, almost always, "No." with very few exceptions.

Professor Monroe concluded that discussion with one such exception. "Although most of you are too young to remember, about twenty years ago there was one Legendary Hero who had his immunity revoked and was brought up on charges. Mystic, one of the longest-standing members of the Legendary Heroes was accused of arms manufacturing and distribution. This is a perfect segue into our topic for today. It was, as you may have heard, his intervention, coupled with systems and procedures developed by The Professor which created the first Metamorphs. As a result, he was stripped of his status as a Legendary Hero and now spends his 'retirement' in 'The Box'."

The Box was a special installation reserved specifically for the worst of the worst. Designed to house individuals with powers, Frank knew that 'bad guys' of all sorts were stored there for undetermined sentences due to undetermined crimes. The kinds of folks who got shipped to The Box were the kind who threatened the very way of life for just about everyone on the Earth. The thought of a Legendary Hero ending up there was frightening for a number of reasons; not the least of which being that most prisoners were there because of the Legendary Heroes. Frank certainly didn't envy Mystic's sentence, and certainly wouldn't want to experience something like that himself.

Professor Monroe continued his lecture even as Frank's brain mulled over the ramifications of The Box, Finally, as the instructor concluded his discussion on Legendary Heroes, he transitioned into a discussion on Metamorphs. Just as he'd done with Legendary Heroes, the professor started by providing a general overview, talking about how Metamorphs were humans who could change their form into that of an anthropomorphic animal and, when they did, they gained certain powers. Like Legendary Heroes, when not in Metamorph form, Metamorphs were completely indistinguishable from normal Humans; unlike Legendary Heroes, Metamorphs had no powers when they were not in their alternate forms.

From there, the instructor began discussing specific Metamorph groups. There were not many-- just four well-established ones in total. In fact, it was Frank's group that Professor Monroe chose to address as a place to start. "While nowhere near as popular or as well known globally, some Metamorph groups have managed to gain some degree of notoriety, but none are quite as wel known as Merc's Metamorphs, a Metamorph group that has only been in the public eye for the past two years but, in that time, their high profile activities have earned them quite a bit of media attention."

Professor Monroe put a printed picture up on the white board; Frank recognized it immediately: it was a still frame from a television broadcast documenting the time he as his companions had stopped a runaway train and saved almost a hundred commuters. Although it wasn't the most lucrative job, he couldn't deny that it left him with something of a 'warm fuzzy' feeling knowing that they were only alive because of his group. Incidently, it was also the first job he'd done after he'd gained his kangacobra form; prior to that he'd just been a plain, white kangaroo, and hadn't had his friends join him. It was the mission that clearly cemented them as Merc's Mercs.

After that brief introduction, Professor Monroe continued on, going over the other three most well-known Metamorph groups: the Sandriders, The Reserves, and Broken Soundtrack. Frank had dealt with each of them at one time or another and, quite frankly, did not hold any of them in any high regard. With 'peers' like them, Frank knew that Metamorphs everywhere would have an uphill climb toward being taken seriously, and, for that, he disliked them all.

The Sandriders consisted of three reptilian Metamorphs and what Frank was pretty sure was a Metamorph Kiwi; they operated in warm climates, most specifically the southwestern US, central America, Australia and most of Africa. The Reserves liked to advertise themselves as an extension of the Legendary Heroes, but Frank thought of them more as posers. Broken Soundtrack, as far as Frank knew, was a group of six Metamorphs which mostly just played at being contract workers; they seemed to be more about living the lifestyle without really doing any jobs.

Like the Legendary Heroes, Metamorphs tended to get the benefit of the doubt when it came to legal ramifications of actions taken. In general, Metamorphs worked outside the legal system of most countries, kept in check by Legendary Heroes and dealt with on a punitive basis. Merc's Mercs, Frank was proud to say, managed to skirt numerous national and international laws, maximizing their use of their legal immunity to pull any number of semi-illegal jobs for less-than-legal employers. The main key, Frank knew, was that almost anything was allowed for Metamorphs except murder and, as such, he and his companions generally kept their 'hi-jinx' non-lethal.

Frank found it particularly hypocritical that killing 'bad guys' was not considered prohibited activities and, when working alongside Legendary Heroes, Metamorphs were given free access to a 'license to kill', especially when it involved notable foes such as members of any of a number of 'powered villain' organizations. Most legal institutions even looked the other way when innocents became collateral damage during sanctioned jobs. While some Metamorph groups took great advantage of that, Frank found such heartless approach to 'crime fighting' to leave a bad taste in his mouth, and so Merc's Metamorphs kept it non-lethal-- yet another reason they got a lot of leeway when they worked for the 'bad guys', and why the most bull-headed Legendary Heroes like General Glory wanted to recruit them; not-so-good-guys sometimes needed some good publicity to cover the bad stuff.

Before Professor Monroe was willing to take any questions he rounded out the discussion by bringing up the Altered, a relatively new inclusion into the discussion of the cross section of the population referred to collective as 'The Powered'. That discussion ended up taking the majority of class, not only because of their relative recent appearance on the geo-political stage, but because they were acknowledged as the first of The Powered to be bio-genetically engineered and, as time went by, were continued to be developed. While everyone acknowledged that Metamorphs were, at least in passing, artificial, they were much less-so than Altered, which were universally considered 'science experiments'.

Having been around for less than a dozen years, the Altered were treated as an undefined variable: not fully classified by the various governments of the world. More developed nations gave them rights similar to those of the Metamorphs while more totalitarian or closed societies treated them at worst as animals or, at best, with the same guidelines as 'Affiliated Personnel'. Affiliated Personnel, or "APs" for short was the official term used to describe what the Powered usually called 'henchmen' or, 'henchies' in a casual, usually derogatory sense. Unlike Affiliated Personnel, however, the Altered had powers of their own, and some could be incredibly dangerous.

Like Legendary heroes, the Altered only had one form, but, like Metamorphs, their powers usually resulted in that single form being not-exactly-human. Professor Monroe didn't go over THAT part of the discussion, but Merc's Metamorphs had plenty of run-ins with Altered and, as far as Frank was concerned, they got the real short end of the deal. As far as Frank could recall, the vast majority of Altered only ever manifested a single ability and the trade-off for their humanity (or their ability to pass for a human) was hardly worth it. Worst of all, most Altered had no choice but to choose a side between groups like Legendary Unlimited or the Dire Legion.

Despite how distasteful Frank found the Altered he more pitied them than anything else. Coming to grips with being a non-human even SOME of the time had taken awhile to process; he couldn't imagine being non-human all the time. It made a lot of sense why suicide rates were so high among the Altered-- even the ones who joined Legendary Unlimited got little to no respect and, in the best of cases, were endured rather than celebrated. At the end of the day, however, Frank was with the general consensus: he pitied them, but that didn't make them any less unpleasant.

As far as he knew, Chase was in agreement with him. Then again, Juan, ever the pragmatist, seemed to actively go out of his way to acknowledge Altered on the off-chance they worked together. Frank smirked to himself; leave it up to a veterinary student to get soft-hearted for weird creatures. He stopped zoning out when the lecture gave way to a Q&A from the class, and the first one came from the front. Frank recognized his classmate but hadn't really interacted with the guy-- Bill? Ben? He was pretty sure it started with a B, but he didn't remember his name. Professor Monroe pointed to student. "Yes, Bryce?"

Professor Monroe was one of the few professors Frank knew who bothered getting to know his students' names; it was an endearing trait. Bryce (he KNEW it started with a 'B') leaned forward in his chair as he spoke. "Professor, what are your thoughts on the news reports from last night? With a group like Merc's Metamorphs, how can the government upkeep support legal immunity for Metamorphs who continue to cause hundreds of thousands of property damage... not to mention theft of millions of dollars of gemstones?"

Adjusting the way his glasses lay on his face, the instructor addressed Bryce. "A very good question, Mr. Tames. In order to answer that question, I'll have to ask another: how much does it cost to house an inmate for one year in the highest maximum security prison available for a non-Powered prisoner?"

Bryce was quick on the draw. "Sixty thousand, I believe."

Professor Monroe nodded. "Very good, Bryce. And do you have any idea what it would cost to house three Metamorphs in The Box?"

As anticipated, Bryce had no answer. "No, sir."

The instructor turned around and wrote out a number on the white board; it had a lot of zeroes on it. Turning back around, he capped his dry erase marker. "On average, the annual cost for a SINGLE Metamorph is approximately 1.2 million dollars. For a group of Powered like Merc's Metamorphs, especially since their method of transformation is not known, it could be upwards of 5 million for the three combined. Now... considering over the past twenty five months of their operating years, can you guess how much they have cost tax payers?"

Bryce shrugged. "About... five million, I guess?"

Professor Monroe about-faced and wrote another figure on the board; honestly, Frank thought it would be higher. Looking back to the class, the professor motioned to it with his marker. "One million eight hundred thousand... and change. That includes all damage done during unsanctioned activities because, if you were not aware, they are not affiliated with Unlimited or Legion."

Frank smirked, honestly surprised that a learned instructor like Professor Monroe would use the colloquial short-hand versions of the two main players in the 'battle between good and evil'; usually it was the media who turned 'right' and 'wrong' into 'Unlimited' and 'Legion'. Despite his musings, the discussion continued, though it was another student who picked up where Bryce left off. "Professor-- you're saying that Merc's Metamorphs get to keep their immunity even though they work for the Dire Legion because it would cost more to imprison them than let them do contract work for an evil organization?"

Professor Monroe actively scowled. "What are my rules regarding words like 'evil' in this class, Ms. Perry?"

The young woman with auburn curls squirmed in her seat; the 'last name' call-out was the dark side of the professor's knowledge of his student's names and he was willing to ue it at the drop of a hat. She quickly answered. "Good and evil are subjective."

The instructor nodded in acknowledgement. "Excellent. Would you like to rephrase your question now, Claire?"

She did so after a few seconds of thought. "If Merc's Metamorphs works for an anti-social and net-negative organization like the Dire Legion, shouldn't the government consider pursuing legal action against them? Dire Legion's Legendary members aren't immune to prosecution, so why should Metamorphs be?"

Professor Monroe didn't waste a second. "How many of the Dire Legion's Legendary members work alongside Legendary Unlimited, or The N.A.L.E., or even the police? Merc's Metamorphs may be mercenaries, but they are at a net-positive by the International Powered Assessment Board and, therefore, get to keep their standing as a neutral party."

Another student took that opportunity to butt in. "The North American Legendary Enterprise is practically a net-negative organization... most Legendary Heroes don't want anything to do with--"

Professor Monroe didn't miss a step. "Mr. Bradley-- did you say 'practically'? Do we not address technicalities in this class?"

The last-name address once again scored another victim. "Yes, sir, Professor."

The instructor continued. "Then a net positive, even if small, is still TECHNICALLY a net-positive group."

One of the pair of girls seated behind Frank spoke up. "Just like Merc's Metamorphs. They stay net-positive so they're in the clear."

Professor Monroe pointed to her with his pen. "Exactly, Samantha. You can bet that Merc is probably aware of technicalities and maximizes his group's capacity to get jobs... for 'good' or 'evil'--" he shot a glance at Claire Perry, "based on the profitability of the contract rather than the moral implications."

The discussion, as it was often prone to do in Professor Monroe's poly sci class ultimately broke down into a semi-chaotic debate about a topic in which the professor elected to play devil's advocate. Frank kept his mouth shut, more than content to listen in on what was being said by those around him rather than feeling compelled to speak up himself. It sounded like the vast majority of the students were not big fans of Merc's Metamorphs, or at least on the negative side of indifferent. There were a few very vocal supporters, however, including the two girls seated behind him.

Through it all, Frank was content to sit back and listen to the chaos, even going so far as to sit smugly, enjoying how clueless all of his classmates were to his presence in the room. A few of the more aggressively anti-Merc students would probably shit their pants if they realized that Merc was listening to every boastful brag they made about how they'd teach him some manners while others spent time talking about how they preferred Bruiser or Demon over Merc; no accounting for taste, he realized but, then again, he was actually quite partial to both of them too, so he couldn't object too much.

Professor Monroe's insistent tone broke through Frank's reverie. "And what about YOU, Frank? What do YOU have to say on the topic of this discussion?"

Frank wasn't really ready to speak up; saying anything too in-favor of Merc's Metamorphs could incriminate him, but being too opposed could make him look like he was hiding something. Worse yet, refusing to speak could do double damage. Placing an elbow on his desk he propped his chin up with his fist as he addressed his instructor. "Seems to me the government is onto something. Sure, they cause some damage, but it costs less to clean up after them than it does to lock em away. Besides-- if they were locked up they couldn't end up helping the Legendary Heroes and what-not. Seems like Merc's group has an idea of what they're doing anyway, keeping net-positive and all so, however we feel about it, it's a moot point. As long as they keep doing what they do they'll get away with it."

His matter-of-fact statement got a begrudging nod of acknowledgement from the professor, and created another loud round of objections and discussion from the class. He sat back in his seat, bemused at how easy it was to rile up all of the 'crusaders' of the up-and-coming politicians, lawyers and law enforcement students that surrounded him. What he paid most attention to, however, was the 'riled up' girls behind him, who were whispering just a little too loud for him not to hear him.

"Oh my god... are you SERIOUS?"

"I mean... yeah. Don't tell me YOU never thought what it'd be like to bang a Metamorph. I bet it'd be wild."

"Wild if you don't mind getting snapped in half. Don't some of them have, like, super strength or something?"

"They can control it... otherwise how would they get dressed without tearing their clothes and stuff?"

"You mean the ones that bother with clothes, right?"

"Oh, man... can you imagine Torpedo? I bet getting it on with a dolphin man would be fucking hot."

"Holy shit, MacKenzie... are you serious?"

Frank couldn't help himself. "Torpedo wouldn't be interested. He's gay."

The realization that someone was listening in on them barely caused the girls to pause. The first one, MacKenzie didn't halt for long. "You're shitting me. Why in the hell would you say something like that?"

Frank wanted to say he knew because he was there when he saw Torpedo kiss Avalanche, a Rhino Metamorph. He wanted to say that Torpedo was also an aggressive power bottom, but he would have a hard time explaining that without identifying himself as a Metamorph who happened to be hanging with them at the time. Instead, he went with plan B. "Fourth of May news report. They were interviewing a Legendary Hero and the camera caught em in the background. It was all over the tabloids-- fuck, he was even chosen as an LGBTQ ambassador over the summer. Surprised you didn't know."

The second girl, Samantha spoke up. "That's okay... not like it's the first time she wanted to get into a gay guy's pants. Kind of a theme for her."

MacKenzie was immediate in her objection. "Shut up, Sam... you'd probably want to get it on with Echo."

Samantha actually surprised Frank with her response. "A bat Metamorph? Hell no. If I ended up doing it with a non-Legendary Powered it would probably be an Altered... I be they'd appreciate the attention, not like all those divas surrounded by groupies."

MacKenzie wasn't about to not call out her friend. "Are you serious? You mean you'd pass up a Metamorph like Merc for one of those things? Hell-- I'd fuck any of Merc's Metamorphs... just imagine--"

Her rant continued but Frank felt just a little dirty hearing her comments about him and his teammates, especially because she was only making her friend's case about having a really bad gaydar. MacKenzie was definitely barking up the wrong tree, and her 'type' would probably only lead to heartache-- all except for Demon, perhaps; Chance wasn't opposed to 'messing around' with the ladies when the mood struck him. Still, Frank thought to himself, MacKenzie certainly had a knack for choosing em.

As was par for the course in poly sci with Professor Monroe the final portion of class remained very back-and-forth with the class essentially dissolving into separate discussions with one another, putting their knowledge to use as they debated their own view of the situations provided in class. Frank remained relatively quiet on the matter, exchanging only a few additional words with the classmates closest. It wasn't until Professor Monroe announced the end of class and reminded everyone to have their weekend report first thing in class on Monday that anyone else tried to engage with him.

Chuck was a special case; he was law major with a big-time fitness obsession and, since Frank was one of the few other in-shape students in the class, the 6'2" 'chad' had somehow taken a liking to him. Unfortunately, after a few subtle interactions, Frank's 'gaydar' showed nothing and so that meant Chuck was an insufferable gym rat with no real redeeming qualities. Chuck, for his part, however, still tried to make a workout buddy of Frank. "Hey, Frankie... when you gonna hit up the gym with me?"

Frank had come to anticipate Chuck's constant invitations (not to mention being called 'Frankie', which he didn't appreciate from a relative stranger). "You know how it is, Chuck... mid-terms coming up so I don't have a lot of free time."

Gathering up his things, Frank made his way toward the door; Chuck, as usual, followed after. "Ah come on... you're the only one in this whole class who could ALMOST keep up with me on the bench press. How much you lift, bro? 200? 220?"

Barely managing to avoid rolling his eyes, Frank wondered how Chuck would respond if he was being honest; in his Metamorph form he could easily do triple that. In the end he elected to keep is simple. "Yeah... around there if I'm doing reps."

"Duuuuude. I bet we could get you up to mid 200s easy. You got the build for it."

If Frank didn't know better he'd have almost thought Chuck was hitting on him, but he'd already felt out that avenue and knew better. "Thanks, Chuck... I'm sure you'll be able to find a spotter. I gotta get going-- another class. You know how it goes."

It might have been easier if Frank had just told Chuck to get lost but he wasn't really the confrontational type-- most folks who knew him as Merc would never have guessed. Things were just... 'more open' when he was in his Metamorph form. When it came down to it he realized that being a little un-Frank-like was probably a good thing since it helped him with his whole "Powered-Individual secret-identity" thing.

Chuck lingered for one more moment before giving him a hardy slap on the back before offering a farewell with escalating verve and volume. "Well... if you change your mind you know where to find me, amigo... I'd be happy to help you take off a few pounds... lose that spare tire... be a man!"

In most cases Frank didn't much appreciate being called 'amigo' by an animated white guy, especially since it was usually in a derogatory way, but Chuck, despite being very pushy wasn't really the mean type so he let it go. "Take it easy, Chuck. See you on Monday. Good luck at the--" Frank paused: having wasted no time, the gym rat was already off down a side hall. "aaaand he's gone already."

A voice calling to him from behind very nearly made Frank jump out of his skin. "He totally wants to bang you."

Turning around at hearing the familiar voice, Frank flipped Juan off. "He's 'totally' straight."

His room mate laughed and they walked down the hall together. "Well, seems like every time I head this way and catch you outside your class he's all over you."

Frank rolled his eyes. "He just wants me to go to the gym with him. Can't get past the idea of me not wanting to lift with him."

Juan shrugged, curving his shoulders forward so he could stuff his hands into his pockets. "Well, he probably figured you'd be a good shoe-in for a spotter with that glove of yours, Frank."

The glove had been with him long enough that Frank often forgot he was wearing it. Truth be told, it was practically a part of him (literally, when he was in Metamorph form). Even after all that time, however, whenever one of his room mates called attention to it he felt self-conscious. Sticking his hands into his jeans in a move mimicking Juan, Frank felt guilt for the hundredth time; the strange item wasn't responsible for just his own changes, but for theirs as well. He felt it doubly since Juan had obviously not wanted to live the life of a Powered individual; he was naturally quiet and reserved and introspective-- being thrust into the limelight wasn't really where he thrived.

Although Frank had known Chance since childhood, having been one anothers' first times, Juan was a much more recent lover. They'd started as room mates but, within a matter of weeks they developed a connection that went from friendly to intimate. They had been boyfriends for a few months before Frank had found his glove and became Merc; he had, in fact, been a Metamorph for over a month before Juan had found out. It was around then that Chance had transferred to their college and, within a week, Frank's longest-time friend had also found out his secret. It got complicated, especially when Chance moved in with the two of them and, before long, became the third member in the relationship.

That thought ultimately got the scowl off of Frank's face; despite how difficult it had seemed at the time they came together with relative ease. He cared for Juan and Chance both and they both helped cover the relationship shortcomings of the others; Frank was not so stuck up to realize that he had some of his own, and relished having both of his boyfriends around to help him overcome his drawbacks too. Whether human or Metamorph, the trio really did make a great team.

Juan's hand came out of his pocket and reached out to brush the back of it against Frank's forearm. "Meet you in the commons for lunch?"

The invitation brought a smile to Frank's lips. "Sounds good to me, babe. Pretty sure Chance'll beat us to it though."

As usual, Juan was easy-going when it came to food. "Not a biggie... pretty sure it's his turn to choose anyway. He'll probably choose burgers. He always chooses burgers."

Frank smirked, turning to give his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek; they were each headed in a different direction to their next class. "I'm good with that... burgers are awesome. Besides, he always pays when he chooses."

Juan shot him a glance. "Short again, huh?"

Shrugging, Frank winked. "For now, yeah... but I'm expecting a pretty good sized deposit... and I'm supposed to be getting a call today about some weekend work."

Like clockwork, the moment he said something he got a text. Thanking his forethought for having a spare (he tended to go through them), he pulling out his cell phone and saw a cryptic message: MMWW2M. He showed it to Juan, who only nodded, and forwarded it on to Chance. Weekend work for Merc's Metamorphs on Saturday; studying would apparently have to wait.