Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/158648.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Xena:_Warrior_Princess
  Relationship:
      Cupid/Strife, Ares/Joxer, Hercules/Gabrielle, Iolaus/Autolycus,
      Aphrodite/Hephaestus, Psyche/Autolycus, Xena/Psyche
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting
  Series:
      Part 1 of stupid_cupid
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-02-02 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 149119
****** Stupid Cupid ******
by carolinecrane
Summary
     This is an ancient fic, but I thought it would be nice to have it all
     in one place rather than 42 separate LJ posts. It's an AU that sprang
     from a challenge posted on the AJCS mailing list in which Strife is
     the lead singer in a punk band and a teenage Cupid falls in love.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Stupid Cupid You're a real mean guy
I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly
I'm in love and it's a crying shame
And I know that you're the one to blame
Hey Hey Set me Free
Stupid Cupid stop picking on me
-- “Stupid Cupid”, Greenfield & Sedaka

                            Part One – Stupid Cupid
Cupid stopped just inside the door to the smoke-filled warehouse, letting his
eyes adjust to the sudden lack of light. He smoothed one hand over the soft,
worn leather of his black biker jacket, a confident smile turning up the
corners of his mouth. He looked good; he knew he looked good, and soon everyone
in the club would know it.
The driving strains of heavy guitar riffs floated toward him across the room as
he glanced toward the stage. It was practically impossible to see anything
through the crush of bodies on what passed for a dance floor, but the music was
good and it didn’t matter what the band looked like. He was there to have a
good time, try out his new look, and hopefully get through the night without
embarrassing himself.
The sudden flash of insecurity took him by surprise, and he frowned and pushed
it as far back in his mind as it would go. He wasn’t going to start thinking
stuff like that, not when his friends had practically dared him to let them
make him over in this outfit. He’d seen himself in the mirror before they left
Jersey to take the train into the city; he knew how good he looked. So what if
he didn’t feel like the bad-ass he was supposed to be, he looked the part and
that was all that counted. At least that was what his friend Autolycus told
him.
So he had a new image, and the black leather jacket and torn, faded black jeans
made him look dangerous in a way he’d never thought possible. He knew he was in
decent shape; he’d run on the track team since junior high and now that he was
a senior he’d started to fill out in all the right places. Shedding the
bookish, awkward image he’d had since he was a kid had been harder, but once he
traded in his glasses for a pair of contacts and let Auto and his girlfriend
Psyche dress him up he felt almost self-confident for the first time in his
life.
Of course if his mother caught him like this she’d probably never let him leave
the house again.
But she hadn’t caught him yet, and he was determined to have a good time
tonight. It wasn’t that often that he got into the city, and going to Auto’s
favorite punk club dressed to kill was more exciting than he’d expected it to
be. Almost like taking a vacation from his mundane life, like he’d left that
other, boring Cupid back in Neptune and tonight he could be whoever he wanted
to be.
He got a charge out of watching the crowd literally part to let him by,
carefully schooling his features into a menacing scowl the way Auto had showed
him. He felt someone grab his arm and looked over in time to see Psyche
grinning up at him, her mischievous expression taking on a hint of evil thanks
to her heavy black eyeliner and tight black clothes. “What did we tell you?”
she hissed just loud enough for him to hear over the driving bass coming from
the stage. “Everybody’s looking at you.”
“Don’t remind me,” he whispered back, struggling to keep his scowl in place
while he answered. “I feel weird enough as it is.”
“Well get over it,” she said. “Everybody here either wants to fuck you or be
you. Enjoy it, because you never know when the next new thing is gonna walk
through that door.”
He swallowed the rush of fear as best he could and squared his shoulders,
letting Psyche lead him toward the bar at the side of the club. He waited while
she and Auto both flirted with the bartender, doing his best not to roll his
eyes at his friends. It was really an accident that they were friends at all,
and no one else at their school understood it. The idea of Psyche and Auto
hanging around influencing her son gave Cupid’s mother nightmares, and he’d had
more than one conversation with his teachers that started off with, “Your
friends really are a reflection of your character, especially at your age.”
None of that mattered to him, though, because he knew that no matter how wild
or outrageous his friends got, they really cared about him. They looked out for
him at the clubs and made sure he never went home with somebody he didn’t know,
and they kept him away from the more dangerous guys that found Cupid’s fair
good looks and natural innocence appealing. Not that he necessarily always
wanted their protection, but he appreciated the fact that they went out of
their way to keep him safe. So it hadn’t taken them too much coaxing to
convince him that a change of image was in order, at least for the night. He’d
secretly been dying to spread his wings a little and try out the look that so
many other punks his age wore like a uniform, but he’d never have the guts to
do it on his own.
He hadn’t even known what punk music was until a year ago when Auto and Psyche
had decided to make him their own personal project. His first taste of anything
outside the mainstream was the New York Dolls CD Auto let him borrow, and as
soon as he listened to it the first time he was hooked. It was like one of
those stories you hear about someone’s whole outlook being changed in a single,
staggering moment of clarity. He never thought something like that would happen
to someone like him, but the first time he heard “Looking for a Kiss” he was
hooked.
After that he bought everything he could by the Dolls and Johnny Thunders
before moving on to The Sex Pistols, The Ramones, Bikini Kill, and anything
else he could get his hands on. It took him awhile to convince Auto and Psyche
that he could handle going to the clubs with them, but once they finally took
him to his first show his obsession took on a life of its own. There was
something about the music and the crowds of screaming kids that made him feel
more alive, like he’d been missing out on half his life all these years.
Even once he’d learned the entire history of punk music and figured out which
bands he liked best he still felt more or less like he was on the outside
looking in, though. He could learn all he wanted about the bands and the
philosophy, but he didn’t feel like he was part of the scene. So he’d finally
let Auto and Psyche dress him up, and for the first time in his life he felt
almost like he fit in. At least on the outside, and as soon as he got
comfortable in his new clothes he was sure he’d feel right at home. He belonged
there as much as the rest of them, after all, and as long as they couldn’t tell
how uncomfortable he was he’d be fine.
Once Psyche and Auto got their drinks they made their way toward the stage,
squeezing into a spot along a railing with a slightly obstructed view of the
band. All Cupid could make out above the crowd was half a drum kit and a scary-
looking chick with long black hair taking out her frustrations on a bass
guitar, but the music was better than he’d expected considering the band didn’t
really have a reputation in the city yet. They were from somewhere out West –
Detroit, he thought he remembered Auto saying – and so far nobody they knew had
heard them play.
“You know, Cupe,” Auto shouted over the noise in the club, “you really do look
hot tonight. You sure you don’t wanna…?” He trailed off with a gesture towards
first Psyche, then himself, grinning as he watched Cupid blush. “This band
isn’t that good, we could just get the hell out of here.”
It wasn’t the first time Auto had ever propositioned him, and he knew it
probably wouldn’t be the last. In fact it was sort of a running joke with them
now, and the truth was he was flattered by the fact that his friends were
attracted enough to him to take an interest in him in the first place. If
Psyche hadn’t seen him in school and decided he looked like an interesting
challenge he’d be at home right now with his nose buried in some book, dreaming
of what his life could be like. He’d never actually slept with them; it wasn’t
that he was some virgin, in fact he’d hooked up practically every time they’d
come to this club. He just didn’t like the thought of crossing that line with
his friends, and anyway he wasn’t attracted to girls at all. Psyche was sweet
when she wanted to be and he loved hanging out with her, but the two of them
were a package deal and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
“I think they’re okay,” Cupid said, affecting innocence and turning his back on
his friends to face the stage. It was just another part of the game, and the
only way he could stay friends with them without feeling weird about it. He
pretended he didn’t know what they were getting at and they let him; so far it
had worked okay, and he was hoping that wouldn’t change anytime soon.
The band had been screaming their way through some unrecognizable piece that
Cupid assumed was original, but as he turned back toward the stage the music
stopped and the lead singer finally moved far enough back from the edge of the
stage for Cupid to get a good look at him. His stomach dropped and he swallowed
hard, beyond caring whether or not he still looked the part of the disaffected
punk. This guy was…well, not beautiful exactly, Cupid decided, but there was
something about him that made Cupid’s pulse race on first sight. He was so thin
that his ribs jutted out prominently, his dark hair long and sticking out at
wild angles. Cupid thought he could make out some blue streaks in the shock of
black hair, but he was too far away to tell if it was dye or just the black
lights in the club.
The leather pants the guy was wearing were molded to his thin frame, making him
seem even more angular that he would have in a pair of Levis. He wasn’t wearing
anything over his chest, leaving Cupid with a clear view of his nipple ring and
the tattoos covering his arms and back. He had a heavy silver chain around his
neck, and he was wearing heavy black boots almost exactly like the ones Cupid
was wearing. The thing that was most striking about him, though, more than his
alarming hairstyle or the snarl that Cupid was almost sure he thought of as his
signature look, were his brilliant blue eyes. They were almost stunningly
bright, the kind of eyes people meant when they said used the word ‘piercing’,
and when he turned to glance at the left side of the room Cupid forgot how to
breathe for a second.
“Thanks for coming out to see us tonight,” he slurred into the microphone, his
voice hoarse from the first half of their first set. “We’re War Bastards and
this is our first time in New York City. If you like what you hear tell your
friends. The next song we’re gonna do is a cover of a love song that my mom
really digs. We modernized it.”
Cupid groaned as the music began, instantly recognizing the melody in spite of
the fact that they were playing a punk version of it. When the first lyrics
escaped the singer’s mouth Auto laughed and clapped a strong hand down on
Cupid’s shoulder. “Hey, Cupe, they’re playing your song.”
“Shut up,” he growled, tossing a dark glance over his shoulder before he turned
back to the band. The lead singer was bouncing on his heels, hair swinging
wildly as he moved his head in time to the music. Cupid had heard that song a
million times, so much that he hated it. Thanks to his mom’s bright idea to
name him after that stupid cherub with the bow and arrows people had been
singing ‘Stupid Cupid’ to him his whole life, whether they knew the words or
not. Still, he had to admit he’d never heard a speed metal version of it, and
it was almost…not that bad.
He wasn’t about to let on that he liked it, though, because if he made that
mistake Auto and Psyche would be screaming the lyrics at him for the rest of
his life. So he leaned against the railing in front of him and tipped his beer
back, riding the buzz of alcohol in his veins as he watched the pale lead
singer gyrate onstage. He was so focused on the lead singer that he almost
didn’t notice at first when the man onstage caught his eye, pausing almost
imperceptibly as he stared back at Cupid. A second later he grinned and went
back to screaming the last verse of the song, but suddenly the air in the club
seemed charged with a new kind of energy.
They watched the rest of the set, Auto and Psyche carrying on an animated
conversation with someone they knew in the crowd while Cupid kept his eyes
trained on the stage. Every so often the lead singer would glance over at him
to see if he was still watching, flashing an impish grin that did things to
Cupid that would have made him blush under any other circumstances. He was
usually shy about flirting with complete strangers, but there was something
about the dark-haired singer that made him forget all about his normal reaction
to someone new showing interest in him. Maybe it was the clothes, or maybe the
fact that they were separated by a crowd of people and the stage. Whatever the
reason, every time the lead singer grinned at him, Cupid found himself smiling
back.
It seemed like they were going to sing all night, and eventually even Auto
started making noise about getting back before the subways stopped running. The
thought of tearing himself away from his flirtation made Cupid’s heart sink
into his stomach, but he knew he couldn’t just stand there for the rest of the
night. He’d been so focused that he’d practically forgotten the crowd around
him and his friends as it was, and it wasn’t going to do him any good to
develop a hopeless crush on some guy that didn’t even live in New York.
“Hey, Earth to Cupid,” Auto said, shaking his arm to startle him out of his
thoughts. “We’re gonna miss the last train, come on.”
“The show’s not over,” he said, telling himself he didn’t sound like he was
whining.
“Yeah, but just think what Mommy will say when you have to call her and tell
her you’re stuck in the city,” Psyche reminded him, tugging on the arm that
Auto wasn’t already holding onto.
“We can take a cab back to Jersey. I’ll pay,” Cupid said. He wasn’t even really
listening to the words coming out of his mouth, because if he’d thought about
what he was saying he would have stopped himself and agreed to make a run for
the last subway with them. All he was thinking at that moment was that he
didn’t want to leave before the show was over and lose the connection he was
almost sure he’d made with the pale, mesmerizing stranger still screaming
onstage.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Auto groaned as Cupid shook out of their grip and
glanced almost unconsciously toward the stage again. “You’ve been practically
drooling on yourself all night, Cupe. He’s not worth it, just another Sid
Vicious wannabe from Nowheresville. Let’s go, I’m sick of this place.”
Cupid’s first instinct was to tell Auto to fuck off, that he was capable of
getting himself home and he didn’t need them babysitting him. One look at
Psyche’s face and he relented almost immediately, though. There was something
about the pleading mingled with sympathy in her eyes that made him realize how
he was acting. He had no real reason to think anything was going to happen with
the guy onstage, he was probably just amused by the fact that Cupid was acting
like a groupie. There was no reason to even think he was into guys, other than
a few flirtatious grins in Cupid’s direction. His shoulders fell a little as he
let out another sigh and nodded. “You’re right, let’s go.”
~
Psyche leaned across Cupid to make sure Auto was snoring softly before she dug
something out of her purse and dropped it in Cupid’s lap. “Got you a present on
the way out.”
He glanced at her suspiciously before picking up the piece of paper, carefully
unfolding it. His breath caught in his throat as soon as he saw the grainy,
slightly distorted Xerox image on the blue sheet of paper, and he couldn’t
quite hide the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Staring back at
him were the members of War Bastards, the lead singer snarling while his band
mates looked on with bored expressions. The picture didn’t even come close to
doing him justice, but it was definitely him. “Thanks,” Cupid said, glancing up
at Psyche again before he went back to staring at the picture.
“They’re not that good, you know,” she said, feigning boredom as she watched
Cupid stare.
“I liked them.” He smoothed the paper out almost reverently, his fingers
lingering unconsciously on the image of the lead singer.
“Yeah, well, their name totally sucks.”
“It’s kind of stupid,” he conceded with a small sigh. “But it’s no worse than
The Cramps. Or Spazz.”
“He’s kind of cute, I guess. In an anemic, Joe Strummer kind of way.”
“Yeah.” Cupid winced at the dreamy sigh that escaped his lips, but as long as
Auto was really asleep he wasn’t too worried about it. Psyche might make fun of
him, but she didn’t mean anything by it and she wouldn’t purposely humiliate
him. Auto, on the other hand…he glanced over at his large, dark friend again
before turning back to Psyche. “What does it matter? He’s from Michigan or
somewhere, isn’t he?”
“That is kind of a drag,” she said. “I could tell he liked you, he kept looking
over at you. And weird that he sang your song, huh?”
“It’s not my song,” he reminded her, frowning to keep from mirroring her amused
grin. “And it’s not like he was singing to me.”
“Could have fooled me.” She leaned over his shoulder and glanced at the flyer
advertising the band’s show. “They’re playing a couple more nights, we should
go see them again. At least you could find out his name.”
He stifled another sigh at the thought of adding more details to the fantasy
already taking shape in his head. When he’d gone to the club he was determined
to try out his new look and maybe turn a few heads, but he hadn’t expected to
develop a crush on someone he had no prayer of even meeting. Even if they did
go to another one of War Bastards’ shows he’d still be on stage all night, and
unless Cupid hung around the stage door like a groupie he wasn’t going to meet
the guy. And even if he did, what would he say? He was still just a high school
kid; granted he graduated in a couple months, but no singer was going to take
him seriously. Not when he found out how old Cupid was, anyway.
By the time he finally made it home he was so depressed about his chances with
a guy he didn’t even know that he forgot about being careful not to wake his
mother, but he managed to make it all the way to his room without having to
explain to her what he was doing coming home at almost 2:00 am. With any luck
she’d fallen asleep early and hadn’t noticed he wasn’t in by curfew. He rolled
his eyes as he slid off his jacket and reached for the zipper on his jeans,
reminding himself that he only had a few more months of his mother’s rules
before he could move out. Not that he didn’t love her, but he was almost
eighteen and it was starting to get a little stifling.
Once he’d stripped down to his boxers and brushed his teeth he turned off the
light and slid into bed, shoving a pile of books onto the floor and stretching
out under the cool sheet. He closed his eyes and tried to will the night’s
events out of his mind, but he couldn’t shake the image of the pale, thin
singer grinning at him from the stage. Finally he gave up trying to chase the
image out of his head, letting his mind wander to the way he’d gripped the
microphone. Cupid imagined those fingers on his own body, running his own warm
hand over his chest as he pictured his fantasy guy touching him. His other hand
wandered down to the waistband of his boxers, slipping under the cotton and
closing around his quickly growing erection.
He let out a soft moan as the image in his mind shifted, and he began to stroke
slowly as he wondered what it would feel like to kiss his new crush. He could
almost hear the man’s voice in his ear, hoarse from screaming onstage and
whispering Cupid’s name over and over as he reached around and replaced Cupid’s
hand with his own. He could almost feel smooth, pale skin pressed against his
back as his other hand left his chest to suck two fingers into his mouth. Once
his fingers were slick with his saliva he reached behind himself and worked
them slowly inside, biting down on his lip to keep from crying out as he
imagined his new favorite fantasy entering him. His fist tightened around his
dick as he rocked between his fingers and his fist, imagining the whole time
that it was the pale, mesmerizing lead singer of War Bastards fucking him.
When he came he buried his face in his pillow so his mother wouldn’t hear him,
panting hard as he rode out the wave of pleasure. His muscles clenched so hard
around his fingers that it took a few minutes for him to relax enough to pull
them out, a soft sigh escaping his lips at the loss. Psyche was right; it
didn’t seem right that he could come so hard from a fantasy about a guy whose
name he didn’t even know. He rolled back over onto his back, eyes wide as he
stared up at the ceiling. And still all he could see was those red lips twisted
into an impish grin, almost daring Cupid to do something about it. He smiled to
himself and set about coming up with a plan to find out his new fantasy’s name,
then get him to fuck him until he couldn’t remember his own name anymore.

                             Part Two – Casual Sex
As soon as they walked through the door of the club a familiar voice assaulted
Cupid’s ears, and he was glad his friends weren’t looking at him to catch the
ridiculous grin lighting up his features. He was sure it was ruining the affect
of his outfit, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. So he was a leather-clad
punk with a stud in one ear and a safety pin through the other, his blond hair
was streaked with red and he was wearing the kind of boots that practically
begged to commit random acts of violence. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be
happy.
So what if he could barely breathe in his tight crimson leather pants. So what
if Psyche had gone to all the trouble of strategically tearing the Anarchy in
the U.K. tee shirt she’d found at a second-hand store in Jersey City so it
would show the right amount of skin in all the right places. It didn’t matter
that he looked like he was literally dressed to kill; there was no reason he
couldn’t smile.
The only problem was that Auto and Psyche didn’t really understand the
motivation behind the goofy grin that lit up his features every time he thought
about a certain lead singer of an unknown punk band. He couldn’t explain it to
them, and it definitely wasn’t for lack of trying. They just didn’t understand
how he could be so interested in someone he’d never even spoken to. He had a
suspicion that part of it was them worrying that he was getting his hopes up;
not that they thought his crush wouldn’t want him, that concept was unthinkable
as far as they were concerned. Cupid, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure, but he
tried to keep his insecurities to himself whenever he was around Auto and
Psyche. He’d heard the pep talk about how hot he was and how anybody would be
crazy not to want him more times than he could count, and it was almost always
followed by an offer from Auto to prove to Cupid just exactly how attractive
they thought he was.
What they were really worried about was that Cupid was building up some
unrealistic expectation about someone he didn’t know, and that when he actually
met the guy he was going to be disappointed. He didn’t blame either of them for
not wanting to deal with him when he was moping about the sad state of his love
life, but he didn’t think he was being unrealistic. So far the only place his
fantasies had taken him was sex, and that was the way he planned to keep it.
Well, he was trying, anyway. Okay, so it would be nice if he and this guy did
have some kind of cosmic connection, but he wasn’t a kid anymore and he knew
stuff like that didn’t happen. Although if it was going to happen it would be
just his luck that it would happen with a guy that lived a thousand miles away.
But he wasn’t thinking those kinds of thoughts, in fact they’d barely crossed
his mind in the past 48 hours. He’d been thinking a lot about tonight, though,
and he was so anxious to see that pale, angular body and those eyes again that
he could barely stand still.
“Geez, Cupe, take it down a notch,” Auto said from behind him, his hand on
Cupid’s shoulder to guide him through the crowd. “Lose the kid in the candy
store look at least, would ya?”
He tried not to take it personally; he knew Auto wasn't that happy about being
dragged back to the club to see the same band they'd seen two nights ago,
especially over a crush on somebody none of them knew. He did his best to wipe
the silly grin off his face and made his way toward the stage, ignoring Psyche
and Auto and whatever they were saying about getting drinks. Working his way
through the crowd toward center stage wasn't as hard as he expected it to be,
but people seemed to think he was dangerous so he scowled a little more and
took advantage of the fact that most of them moved out of his way.
It was kind of cool in a way, he got a thrill out of making people move out of
his way just by looking at them. But that was nothing compared to the thrill he
got when he finally made his way through the crowd and looked up at the stage.
There was less than a foot of space between him and the stage, and he was being
pushed even closer by the crush of bodies moving behind him. There were
screaming kids on either side of him, a mix of guys and girls yelling
unintelligibly and reaching for the stage. War Bastards was quickly making a
name for itself in New York, if the crowd’s reaction was any indication. Not
that he could blame them; they were all focused on the lead singer, who was on
his knees, eyes squeezed shut as he wailed something Cupid couldn’t make out.
The lyrics to the song didn’t matter, though, because he was shirtless again
and still wearing those leather pants that looked like they’d been sewed
directly onto his legs. From this close up Cupid could finally see that the
blue in his hair was actually dye and not the lights, and he felt a shiver of
anticipation as he watched a bead of sweat drip down the pale neck. That was
the moment that the lead singer chose to open his eyes, his gaze locking on
Cupid. The smile that turned up those red lips seemed out of place while he was
on his knees screaming the lyrics to a punk song, but Cupid found himself
smiling back anyway. His heart pounded in time to the music and he was suddenly
way too hot in the crowd at the front of the stage, but there was no way in
hell he was going anywhere while those blue eyes were still locked on him.
As soon as the song ended the singer got off his knees and looked away from
Cupid long enough to glance over his shoulder and nod at the dark-haired girl
playing bass. “Xena’s gonna take the mike for awhile,” he growled into the
microphone, his gaze locking on Cupid again. “This first song is one she
wrote.” He paused long enough to set the microphone back in its stand, then he
stepped to the edge of the stage and jumped down into the crowd.
This wasn’t the first time Cupid had picked someone up in the club, and it
wouldn’t be the first time he’d sought out some dark corner or bathroom stall
for a quick fuck. It usually left him feeling like something was missing, and
when he found himself less than a foot away from all that pale, sweat-slick
skin he knew it wasn’t going to be enough. He wasn’t above taking what he could
get, though, and if this was his only shot at the guy who’d been invading his
dreams for two days he wasn’t about to pass it up because the setting wasn’t
ideal.
He ignored the rush of nerves in his stomach as the other man stopped in front
of him, a grin lighting up his features as the crowd pressed him even closer to
Cupid. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he got the words out a
hand closed around his arm and he looked away from Cupid to shake off the
interruption. “Fuck off,” he growled at the short blonde clinging to his bicep.
“Strife, you can’t just leave in the middle of the show,” she shouted over the
music. “Where the hell are you going?”
“None of yer business,” he answered, pulling his arm out of her grip and
squeezing around her to put himself between her and Cupid. “I said fuck off.”
Cupid barely registered the look of shocked outrage directed at first Strife,
then himself before he felt himself being pushed backwards through the crowd.
The pale, thin body he’d spent the past two days fantasizing about pressed
against his, a hand landing on his hip as Strife leaned forward to make himself
heard over the music. “I been hoping you'd show up,” he shouted directly into
Cupid’s ear, sending another shiver down Cupid’s spine. A second later he
pulled away and turned toward the back of the club, leading Cupid through the
maze of bodies toward a door that Cupid never would have seen if Strife hadn’t
been heading right for it.
He pushed a flash of doubt aside as he watched Strife pull open a low door the
same color as the wall, taking a deep breath as he followed the other man
behind the stage and closed the door behind him. At least he’d found out the
name of his crush, that had been half his goal for the night. He hoped that he
was being dragged to the back of the club to fulfill the other half, but Strife
had just left the band right in the middle of a set so he couldn’t be sure.
Maybe he just wanted to tell Cupid to quit staring at him, although if that was
the case he could have done it from the stage and embarrassed him in front of
the whole club.
It was surprisingly quiet behind the stage, the music and the crowd muffled by
thick walls. He followed Strife down a short hallway to another door, hoping he
didn’t look as nervous as he felt. The shorter man closed the door behind him
and Cupid heard a lock click, his heart skipping a beat as he realized that
they were thinking the same thing after all. He felt a flurry of butterflies in
his stomach as he watched Strife cross the few feet still between them, but as
soon as a hand landed on the back of his neck he forgot all about being
nervous. He forgot why he’d been second-guessing himself the second their lips
fused together and he found himself backed against a wall, pressed into the
plaster by a thin, surprisingly strong body.
When he’d imagined what it would be like to kiss his fantasy he’d expected
Strife to be aggressive, probably at least a little rough and not all that
concerned with who Cupid was or whether or not this was what he had in mind. He
hadn’t really expected actual privacy, but from the little he’d seen of the
dimly lit room before Strife kissed him he gathered it was the band’s dressing
room. There were guitar cases and clothes on the floor, at any rate, and there
was a couch stretched along the far wall. He might have been surprised by the
fact that Strife had bothered to bring him back to the dressing room if he
wasn’t so busy being shocked by the way the other man was kissing him.
It was definitely aggressive, but there was nothing violent about it. Strife’s
hand had moved from the back of his neck to his face, his fingers buried in
Cupid’s hair as he memorized the blond’s mouth with his tongue. Cupid ran his
hands down the soft, hot skin of Strife’s back, trying to tug him even closer
as Strife pressed him into the wall. He barely managed to suppress a whimper
when Strife pulled back suddenly, panting and flushed as he looked up at Cupid.
“What’s yer name?”
“Cupid,” Cupid answered, an involuntary grin tugging at the corners of his
mouth when Strife laughed.
“No way. For real?”
Cupid nodded, for once not minding the reaction to his name. He probably
wouldn’t have minded anything as long as Strife was still pressed against him.
“Yeah, my mom’s got a thing for mythology. People are always singing that song
you guys do to me. I guess she didn't think of that when she picked it.”
“Man, ya probably hate it, huh?”
“Not when you sing it,” Cupid answered, wincing as soon as the words escaped
his lips. Great, just what he wanted to do, sound like a groupie with a crush.
Which he had, but he definitely wasn’t a groupie. “I mean it sounds kind of
cool as a punk song.”
“Cool. My name’s Strife.”
“Yeah, I heard that girl call you that,” Cupid answered, stopping just short of
asking who she was. It was none of his business, and even if she was a
girlfriend he didn’t have any right to be jealous.
Strife grinned again and glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the
couch before turning back to raise his eyebrows at Cupid. “I don’t usually
leave in the middle of a show,” he said, the hand that had been in Cupid’s hair
wandering down his cheek to his neck, “but after ya left the last time I
figured I better take a shot while I had the chance.”
“We had to catch a train,” Cupid muttered, the sound of his own voice barely
registering as he focused what was left of his brain cells on the way Strife’s
hips had begun to move in a slow, barely perceptible rhythm. His eyes
threatened to flutter closed as Strife ground their hips together, a breathy
moan escaping his throat. He knew he only had a few minutes of coherent thought
left before he surrendered all control of the situation, and he forced his eyes
open and buried his fingers in Strife’s hair, forcing the other boy to look up
at him. “I came back because…because I want you to…to fuck me.”
He was irrationally proud of himself for actually getting the words out even if
they were punctuated by a series of breathy gasps, and he didn’t even mind
Strife’s soft chuckle. What he did mind was the fact that Strife pulled away,
leaving him feeling a lot colder than he had a moment before. "Yer kidding,
right?"
"I mean it," Cupid said. He reached down and tugged his tee shirt over his
head, adding a few new tears to the fabric as he yanked it off and tossed it on
the floor. He grinned as he watched Strife’s blue eyes widen, reaching for the
buttons on his leather pants as he backed toward the couch. “I've been thinking
about this since I first saw you.”
“Damn, there really is a God,” Strife murmured just loud enough for Cupid to
hear as he reached for one of the bags on the floor and dug frantically through
the pockets. By the time he found a condom and a tube of lube Cupid’s leather
pants were on the floor next to his tee shirt, and he closed a fist around his
cock and stroked slowly as he watched Strife walk toward him. When he reached
the other man Strife dropped the lube and condom on the couch and took hold of
Cupid’s arms, pushing him backwards onto the couch and straddling his hips.
“Do you have to get back?” Cupid gasped as Strife’s mouth landed on his neck to
suck hard at the skin just below his ear.
“Ya got a train to catch tonight?” Strife asked when he pulled away to survey
the mark he’d left on Cupid’s neck.
“Yeah.”
“Then fuck the show,” Strife answered, moving to the other side of Cupid’s
neck.
Okay, so he hadn’t been expecting that, but it was pretty cool that Strife
wanted him bad enough to walk out in the middle of a show. Maybe it wasn’t that
good for the future of the band, but that wasn’t Cupid’s problem. Right now his
biggest problem was getting Strife out of his pants without losing contact for
any longer than absolutely necessary. He reached between them and pressed his
palm against the hardness stretching the leather impossibly tighter, grinning
at the muffled groan that escaped Strife’s throat. Somehow he worked Strife’s
zipper down and slid the leather far enough down his hips to work his hand
inside, closing his fist around Strife’s cock and stroking hard as Strife’s
mouth found his again.
And this was definitely better than hard and fast and up against the wall in
the bathroom or the back of the club, because Strife didn’t seem to be in any
hurry and just kissing him was hotter than Cupid had expected. When the other
man’s breathing got ragged Cupid closed his hand around the base of his cock,
applying just enough pressure to bring him back from the edge so things
wouldn’t end before he got what he wanted. When he was sure Strife wasn’t going
to come he pulled his hand away and worked Strife’s pants down his thighs,
letting his fingers caress newly bare skin as he pushed the leather down. The
whole time Strife's mouth was moving on his skin, claiming Cupid's mouth, then
his neck and collarbone to flick his tongue across a taut nipple. Cupid arched
into Strife's mouth, squeezing his eyes shut to keep from coming just from the
sensation of Strife's mouth moving on his skin.
Finally Strife stood up long enough to kick his pants off the rest of the way,
his eyes darker than usual as he watched Cupid reach for the condom and rip
open the plastic. He closed his eyes while Cupid rolled it on and coated it
with lube, biting his lip to keep from coming. When he was satisfied that
Strife was slick enough Cupid stood up, pressing his lips to the other man’s
and forcing his mouth open with his tongue. Strife kissed him back eagerly,
their tongues sliding together as Strife reached behind Cupid to run his
fingers across the entrance to his body. Cupid moaned and pushed back against
Strife’s fingers, caught between the rush of being able to take his time and
the overwhelming urge to finally have Strife inside him.
His fantasies won out and he pulled away with a gasp, his face flushed as he
turned and braced himself on the arm of the couch. “Now,” he said, his voice
breathy and deeper than usual.
He heard a muted ‘Jesus’ from behind him as Strife took hold of his hip with
one hand, the other stroking his back as though he was trying to calm Cupid
down. He twisted his head to tell Strife that he was way beyond ready, but
before he got a chance he felt a slight pressure and then the head of Strife’s
cock slid inside him. A groan escaped his throat as he pushed back to meet the
other man, forcing himself to relax enough to take Strife’s length in one long
stroke. He’d never expected Strife to be so considerate, let alone for him to
seem like he was actually afraid he might hurt Cupid. He seemed determined to
be gentle, though, no matter how hard Cupid thrust back against him.
“Harder,” Cupid ordered through gritted teeth, ignoring the sting of sweat in
his eyes and the way his arm muscles were already shaking from the tension of
holding himself up. “Please.”
He didn’t know if it was the ‘please’ that did it, but Strife groaned and
picked up speed, gripping both his hips and slamming into Cupid with enough
force to make his legs shake. He knew he was going to be able to feel Strife
inside him the next day at school, maybe even the day after that. That was the
reason he wanted it like this, though, because if this was the only shot he got
at the pale, dark-haired singer he wanted to remember it for as long as
possible. He braced himself as Strife’s thrusts got a little more wild, his
breathing ragged as he slammed into Cupid. His own cock was painfully hard, but
he couldn’t let go of the couch to seek even a little relief so he ignored his
own need and focused all his energy on keeping his balance.
Cupid choked back a frustrated sob as Strife gripped his hips hard enough to
leave perfect finger-shaped bruises, clamping down hard on Strife's cock the
next time he thrust forward. A choked gasp was the only warning he got that
Strife was about to come, and with one final thrust he buried himself as deep
as he could and moaned his release against Cupid's shoulder. It was an effort
to hold them both up while Strife panted against his back, but Cupid didn't
have to worry for long about his knees giving out because before Strife even
caught his breath there was a knock on the door.
"I said fuck off," Strife shouted, his chest heaving as he forced himself
upright and pulled out of Cupid. The loss was almost enough to bring Cupid to
his knees, but Strife was still gripping his hips and before Cupid could reach
down to relieve the unbearable ache in his groin Strife turned him around and
fused their lips together. "Not yet," he whispered against Cupid's mouth,
punctuating the command with a hard kiss. "Gimme a second."
The banging on the door continued as Strife eased the condom off and dropped it
in a trash can, his pale cheeks flushed as he crossed the room to stop in front
of Cupid again. "Damn, yer beautiful, Cupe," he said. "Sure you can't stay for
the whole show?"
"Can't," Cupid said, wide-eyed as he watched Strife drop to his knees and reach
up to close his fist around Cupid's erection. "School tomorrow."
That was all he managed to say before Strife's mouth closed around the head of
his cock, shutting off his brain function and all sensation past where Strife's
mouth ended. He gasped and buried his fingers in dark hair, his eyes rolling
back as Strife's tongue did things to him he'd never even read about. It barely
took any time at all before he was shouting Strife's name and coming without
warning, too caught up in the exhilarating rush to remember to feel bad about
not giving him any warning. Finally his legs had all they could take and he
slid to his knees in front of the other man, vaguely aware of warm arms holding
him upright and a pair of lips feathering kisses on his forehead and cheeks. He
remembered thinking that that was nice, a lot sweeter than he was used to but
definitely a nice change.
"College, huh? Yeah, I figured ya fer smart when I first saw ya," Strife said,
chuckling softly in Cupid's ear as he smoothed his hair back. Another knock
sounded on the door, louder this time, and he turned his head away from Cupid
long enough to shout a stream of obscenities at whoever was on the other side.
"Too bad ya got class tomorrow. Sure ya can't stay? I could have ya back by
morning, I can give ya a ride in our van."
Slowly Cupid's brain began processing Strife's words, and he was glad he was
flushed and too sluggish from coming to panic. He felt himself nod in response
to Strife's assumption, and just like that he was locked into the lie. It
didn’t matter, he told himself as he stared back at Strife and waited for his
brain to catch up with him. They were never going to see each other again, so
if Strife wanted to believe he was college-age maybe it was better that way. "I
can't," he heard himself say. "I mean I want to, but I can't."
"Worth a shot, anyway," Strife said, grinning as he stood up and dragged Cupid
to his feet. His eyes wandered down the taller man' s form and then back up
again, his grin fading a little as he stepped forward and closed the distance
between them again. Cupid leaned forward automatically, his lips parting
eagerly under Strife's. Instead of the hot, insistent kisses from earlier this
one was slow, almost as if Strife was reluctant to let him go. When they
finally parted the smaller man cleared his throat and took a step backwards,
scanning the floor for the clothes they'd dropped. "Right, so I should get back
before the bitch on the othah side a the door tracks down the manager and gets
the key. So maybe I'll see ya around."
"Yeah, maybe," Cupid said, stopping himself from asking how long they were
going to be in town. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, because if he did he'd
spend the entire time obsessing about ways to 'accidentally' run into Strife
again. "Listen, thanks. You know."
"Believe me, Cupe, it was my pleasure," Strife said, his grin returning as he
watched Cupid struggle back into his leather pants. He reached into one of the
bags on the floor and produced a torn, questionable-looking pair of black
jeans, sliding into them and fastening them before he looked back at Cupid
again. "Ya mind if I call ya that?"
"What? Oh, no," Cupid said, smiling at the warmth that spread through him at
the thought of Strife having a chance to call him 'Cupe' again. He was fairly
sure it wasn't going to happen, but it would give him something to fantasize
about, anyway. "Call me whatever you want."
For a second the mischievous grin was replaced by a warm, genuine smile, and
Cupid's knees shook so violently that he almost had to sit down. Somehow he
managed to keep himself upright, shaking his head and forcing himself to pull
his tee shirt back on. Putting his boots on distracted him enough to pull
himself back together, and when he looked up again Strife was reaching for the
door knob. He thought when the knocking stopped that the girl on the other side
had gotten tired of waiting and left, but instead of the blonde they'd seen
earlier Cupid looked up to find the rest of the band glaring at both of them as
they shoved their way into the room.
He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact as he made his way toward the
door, determined to walk right past Strife and disappear into the crowd before
any of them thought of anything to say to him. As soon as he reached the door a
hand reached out to stop him, though, and he found himself looking down into
bright blue eyes. "We're playing The Underground next weekend. If ya wanna come
by," Strife said.
"Sure…I mean I'll try to stop by," Cupid said a little too quickly, praying
that Strife would chalk his blush up to the band walking in on them and not his
embarrassment at acting like a lovestruck teenager. "We usually make it into
the city on the weekend anyway."
"Good." Strife pushed himself off the door and leaned into Cupid, making Cupid
wonder if he was going to kiss him again right in front of his friends. He
stopped just short of actual physical contact, though, grinning broadly as he
met Cupid's gaze. "See ya, Cupe."
All Cupid could do was nod and back out of the room, his gaze locked on Strife
until the door closed, leaving him alone in the dim hallway. He shook himself
and turned toward the door that would lead him back to the club, fighting a
losing battle against the grin he was sure Auto and Psyche wouldn't let him
live down for weeks.

                             Part Three – Jailbait
Strife allowed himself roughly thirty seconds of basking in the afterglow of
casual sex with one of the hottest guys he'd ever laid eyes on before he pasted
a snarl back on his face and turned to face his bandmates. Judging by the
length of time they'd spent pounding on the door he figured they were pissed,
but they had to know what he was doing when he left the stage. Then again maybe
that was why they were pissed, not that he really thought that was fair. He
never gave them any shit about where they got off and who they did it with.
He turned to face them, swallowing a smirk as Hercules sprawled out at the end
of the couch he and Cupid had just been using. "What the fuck?" he demanded,
hoping if he went on the offensive right away that they'd forget the real
reason they were pissed at him. "If yer gonna end the set early can't ya just
get a fuckin' drink or somethin'?"
"Fuck you, Strife," Iolaus snarled at him, his drumsticks freezing in mid-air
long enough for him to glare at their lead singer. "Anyway, Jailbait probably
had to get home to his mommy."
"What the fuck're ya talking 'bout? He's not jailbait, he's in college. He just
told me so."
"Well next time maybe you should ask to see a driver's license," Xena said.
"Because Gabbie's seen him around here plenty of times with his friends, and
she says they're all still in high school."
"That bitch," Strife muttered, rolling his eyes at the mention of Xena's best
friend. At first he'd just hated Gabbie because of the way she treated Xena
like a doormat, but now that he'd spent some time with her he hated her just
for being who she was. “What the fuck does she know?”
“A lot more than you about your jailbait boyfriend, anyway. And just because
you don’t like her doesn’t make her a bitch.”
"Yeah, and what the fuck kind of name is 'Cupid', anyway?" Hercules added,
glancing over at Iolaus with a smirk.
Strife rolled his eyes again, shaking his head as he tried to convince himself
this was all just some dumb joke. Maybe they were just trying to get back at
him for ditching them in the middle of a set. "Fuck off," he muttered, his
cheeks flushing at the lameness of the comeback.
"Look, Strife, if you wanna screw around with some underage groupie we'd don't
care," Xena said, her voice softening almost imperceptibly. "Just remember why
you're here. No piece of ass is worth throwing that away, no matter how pretty
he is."
And that was the problem, because Cupid wasn't just a pretty piece of ass.
Okay, so Strife had wanted to fuck him since the first second their eyes met,
but now that he had he still wanted him. Usually when he picked somebody up in
a bar or a club one night was enough, after he knew how the guy kissed and how
he felt moving under Strife he got bored and moved on. Cupid, though…that was a
guy Strife definitely wanted to see a lot more of. It just figured that the
first guy in ages that he'd actually been interested in would turn out to be a
high school kid. A high school kid that he'd fucked without any prep work.
Hell, they'd barely exchanged names before they started tearing their clothes
off. "Shit. He's gotta be like a senior, though, I mean you guys saw him. No
way is that kid less than seventeen. Maybe he's eighteen already. Did the
bi…Gabbie say how old he was?"
"She didn't say," Xena snapped. She glared at him for a second before relenting
with a sigh. "Look, Strife, don't freak out, it's no big deal. Everybody saw
that kid, he knew what he was doing. So I doubt you need to worry about his old
man showing up with a shotgun or anything. Plus, who could blame you? He was
pretty hot, even Iolaus said so."
"I did not," Iolaus snapped, heat creeping into his cheeks as they all turned
to look at him. He glanced over at Hercules and blushed an even deeper shade of
red. "What? I didn't fucking say that."
"Whatevah," Strife muttered, thankful that Herc and Xena had moved on from
laughing at him to making fun of Iolaus. He couldn't enjoy the fact that
Hercules looked horror-stricken at the idea of his best friend thinking a guy
was hot, though, because he was too busy worrying about Cupid. It was bad
enough he'd had sex with the guy without even bothering to ask how old he was,
but he couldn't deny that he still wanted him. Even now that he knew Cupid had
lied all he had to do was picture that shy smile and his cock twitched in his
jeans.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, sinking into a rickety metal chair and
burying his head in his hands. That wasn't even the worst part, because no one
would blame him for wanting somebody that looked like Cupid. No, the part that
really worried him was that he'd invited Cupid to their show this weekend, and
chances were that he'd show up. He'd said he'd try, and for all he knew Strife
still thought he was some college kid from the suburbs. And he knew himself
well enough to know that if Cupid did show up he was going to have a hard time
saying no the second time.
He tried to tell himself that it was no big deal that Cupid was a little
younger than he'd assumed; seventeen was old enough and it wasn't like he'd
broken any laws. At least he didn't think he had. The thought of fucking a high
school kid, though – high school seemed so long ago for him, and he remembered
what it was like back then whenever somebody showed an interest in him. There
were always a bunch of messy feelings and emotions and all that stuff Strife
didn't have time for right now, and he couldn't afford to have some high school
kid falling in love with him. That was the last thing he needed, especially
when the band was just starting to make a name for itself.
He was still brooding when Xena stood up and announced that it was time to get
back onstage, dragging Strife out of his chair and pushing him ahead of her out
the door. The last thing he felt like doing was getting up onstage and
screaming his way through another whole set, but it was their first real gig in
New York and if he fucked it up they'd kick him out of the band. Xena was right
about one thing; he'd worked too hard for this shot to fuck it up because of
some pretty face. He just hoped the pretty face and the body it was attached to
had already left to catch his train back to wherever he came from.
As the music started behind him he found himself scanning the crowd, telling
himself he was just making sure Cupid was already gone. He caught sight of
blond hair out of the corner of his eye, his heart skipping a beat as he swung
as casually as possible in that direction. As soon as he realized it wasn't
Cupid his heart fell, and he squeezed his eyes shut and put a little extra
energy into the guttural scream at the beginning of the song. His heart didn't
have a goddamn thing to do with anything, and there was no way he was actually
looking for some kid that had lied to him about his age. Granted, he'd never
actually asked, but that wasn't the point. The point was he was not going to
have a crush on some high school kid, and that was all that mattered.
~
"What, again? You've gotta be fucking kidding me. Cupe, come on, man. I thought
you got that out of your system last weekend."
Cupid scowled and picked at a loose thread on the cuff of his denim jacket so
he wouldn't have to see Auto's disapproving stare. It was bad enough that he
couldn't do anything without the two of them finding out about it, but now Auto
was just being a jerk because he could. Or maybe he was jealous, but that was
something Cupid didn't even want to think about.
"Give him a break, Auto. He's got a crush." Psyche leaned around her boyfriend
and grinned in Cupid's direction, succeeding in making him blush a little
harder and roll his eyes.
"I do not. I just like the band."
"I don't care if you're engaged to marry the guy, I don't want to hang out at
that piece of shit club. I hate that place, everybody that goes there is a
total poser."
Cupid rolled his eyes again but didn't say anything. Instead he stood up and
dusted imaginary dirt off his jeans, leaning down to pick up his backpack.
"Yeah, well I don't remember asking if you wanted to go with me," he said when
he straightened up again, raising his eyebrows defiantly when Auto frowned at
him. "I gotta go."
"Cupid, wait," Psyche called after him, but he didn't bother looking back at
his friends. He heard Psyche slap Auto's arm and mutter something about his big
mouth, but he shut them out and walked a little faster so he didn't have to
hear whatever Auto was about to say about him.
He was used to them hovering over him like he couldn't take care of himself;
after all, when they first met him he didn't know anything about life outside
of Neptune, New Jersey. He'd been hanging out with them for almost a year now,
though, and he'd been to the clubs enough to know how to handle himself. He
didn't need babysitters anymore, and whether or not Auto wanted to face it he
wasn't Cupid's bodyguard. Or his boyfriend. Cupid scowled and pushed away the
jolt of guilt he felt for walking away from them, shifting his backpack a
little further up on his shoulder as he turned toward home.
It would be one thing if it was really about Auto just not wanting to go to The
Underground that weekend. Cupid knew it wasn't his favorite club, but they'd
endured the cramped room, the sticky tables and the watered-down beer on the
nights when the club actually had decent bands headlining. He'd thrown in that
insult about posers just to let Cupid know that he didn't like the fact that
his best friend was chasing around after some singer like some kind of groupie,
but that wasn't what Cupid was doing at all. It wasn't. He thought the band was
pretty good, but even if Strife was just some guy he'd met at the club he'd
want to see him again.
They had a connection, he knew they did. Maybe a guy like Auto wouldn’t
understand something like that, not with the way he hit on everything that
happened to look twice at him. Normally Cupid wouldn't think twice about some
guy he had sex with the first time he met him; he didn't have any teenage
delusions about romance or sex equaling love. But Strife had asked to see him
again, he'd invited Cupid to the show and that had to mean something, right?
Even if he didn't want a repeat performance of last time it at least meant he
liked Cupid enough to want him around.
Well, maybe not liked exactly, they didn't really know each other well enough
for that. But he was interested, and that had to count for something. It would
probably be better if he didn't show up with Auto and Psyche in tow anyway. Who
knew what they'd do or say to embarrass him in front of Strife and the other
members of the band, that was if Cupid actually met any of them instead of just
rushing out of the room as soon as they showed up this time. He blushed all
over again at that thought, but he squared his shoulders and told himself it
didn't matter what they thought of him. All he cared about was what Strife
thought, and if he didn't show up at The Underground that weekend he'd never
get a chance to find out.
There was still the problem of Strife assuming he was in college, but Cupid had
almost convinced himself that didn't matter. It was just a little white lie,
and it wasn't like he'd ever actually confirmed it. So Strife thought he was a
year or two older than he was, no big deal. It wasn't like they were even
dating, and if that changed Cupid would just tell him the truth. Dating
Strife…the idea sent a flurry of butterflies sailing through his stomach, and
he thought for a second he might actually throw up. He slowed his footsteps as
he got closer to his house, turning over the idea in his mind. A boyfriend like
Strife was something he'd never had before – to be honest he'd never had a
boyfriend at all – but suddenly Strife was exactly the kind of guy he'd been
looking for all this time. He just knew it, he didn't even have to get to know
him to know that.
Not that it mattered, though, because Strife wasn't going to be his boyfriend.
Strife wasn't even going to be in town, because he was from Detroit or
somewhere and after this weekend Cupid would probably never see him again. He
knew that, it was just hard not to think about the possibilities. It hadn't
been so hard until Auto and Psyche started in on him on the train ride back
from the club last weekend, but ever since Psyche started teasing him about his
crush he hadn't been able to think about much else.
He just wished he could prove to them for once that he wasn't some dumb kid
that needed looking out for. He almost wished they'd show up at The Underground
so they could see that Strife wanted him around, that he was happy that Cupid
showed up and that he really had asked him to stop by. Of course the idea of
Auto acting like his big brother, or worse, his own personal guard dog, didn't
appeal to him much, and with his luck one of them would open their big mouths
and let it slip that Cupid hadn't actually gotten around to graduating from
high school yet. Yeah, it was definitely better if they found something else to
do this weekend. It might even be best for everybody if they forgot they even
knew who Cupid was.
~
As it turned out there was a lot more to this whole 'dressing to go out' thing
than Psyche had let on. She made it look so easy, but without her help Cupid
just felt stupid about everything he tried. He couldn't find the right shirt to
go with his pants to save his life, and he wasn't about to try streaking his
own hair. So instead of the dramatic red streaks he'd had the last time he saw
Strife he'd just have to settle for plain old blond, and instead of a
strategically ripped Sex Pistols tee shirt he was wearing a pair of black
jeans, an old white tee shirt and this long black coat Psyche had made him buy.
When he'd looked at himself in the mirror back home the first thing he thought
was that he looked like he was trying to be Spike from Buffy the Vampire
Slayer. The second thing he thought was that he couldn't go through another
hour of trying to find the perfect outfit, and anyway if he didn't get going he
was going to miss the whole show.
He'd lied to his mother for the first time that night. Okay, so he'd told her
half-truths before just to keep her happy, but this was the first time he'd
ever looked her square in the eye and told a complete and outright lie. He knew
she'd never let him go out by himself, though, and if she knew he was taking
the train into the city alone…he'd be locked in his bedroom until he was 30. 35
if she found out he was going to meet a guy. She let him go into the city alone
to visit his dad, and even though she didn't like Auto and Psyche much she'd
let him go to shows with them as long as he made sure he was on the last train.
He was almost eighteen, after all, and she knew as well as he did that she'd
have to let him grow up eventually.
Still, going into the city to meet some guy she'd never met, and an older guy
at that would have been too much even for his mother. So he'd told her he was
spending the night hanging out and watching movies with Auto and Psyche, and
then without even thinking about it he'd added that he was going to crash at
Auto's so she shouldn't worry about him coming home. He didn't even know why
he'd said it, it wasn't like he had definite plans with Strife. Chances were
he'd get to the club and the guy wouldn't even remember who he was, but he'd
stood there and looked right in his mother's face when he told her he wouldn't
be home that night.
It had felt weird to say it, he wasn't sure what the word was exactly but he
was leaning toward 'liberating'. It wasn't his first real act of defiance, but
he always tried to follow his mom's rules and lying to her about his plans felt
just dangerous enough to feel kind of good. That and the fact that Auto didn't
approve of what he was doing just made him more determined to do it, and when
he stepped off the subway and made his way toward The Underground it was hard
to keep from bouncing just a little. He managed to rein in his excitement
enough to look dangerous, a scowl firmly fixed on his features. If his eyes
shone just a little more than usual nobody would notice.
Psyche had told him once after a long, full night of partying that he looked
older with a little stubble, so he hadn't shaved for a couple days and the
coarse hair on his chin just made him look that much more like he was looking
for trouble. The bouncer at the door to the club didn't even ask for his ID,
which was almost disappointing because he had an excellent fake. He just
shrugged when the man waved him inside, making his way through the crowd to the
bar.
He ordered a beer to calm his nerves and took a few sips of bitter liquid
before he found a seat near the side of the stage, sprawling in an
uncomfortable wooden chair and resting his elbows on the table to wait for the
show to start. Once he got over the initial thrill of doing something he wasn't
supposed to be doing he started looking around a little more self-consciously,
feeling suddenly overdressed in his long jacket and tight jeans. The club was
filling up quickly with the weekend crowd, and the room was heating up faster
than he'd anticipated. He tilted his beer back and swallowed half the contents
of the bottle, wishing he'd remembered to eat something when his head started
to swim a little from the sudden rush of alcohol in his system.
Okay, so maybe going to a club by himself wasn't the most fun he'd ever had.
But he wasn't there to hang out and mingle, he wasn't even there to hear the
band. He was there to see Strife, and as long as he actually showed up and
remembered who Cupid was everything would be fine. The fact that there was no
sign of him yet didn't mean anything; it was still pretty early and the band
wouldn't go on for at least another half hour. So he wasn't there early to talk
to Cupid before the show, it wasn't like Cupid had been expecting that. He
wasn't expecting anything, he was just there because he said he'd be there.
The closer it got to show time and the more beer he got in his system the
harder it was for Cupid to remember why he'd gone to the club in the first
place. Strife had never actually said he'd talk to Cupid at the show, now that
he thought of it. All he'd said was 'we're playing at The Underground, you
should come by'. So maybe he thought Cupid was some kind of groupie or
something, and he'd just been doing a little free advertising for their next
show. The thought would have made Cupid blush if his face wasn't already so
warm from the combination of beer and his jacket. And why had he decided it was
a good idea to wear a leather duster in April, anyway? He was going to sweat to
death before he ever laid eyes on Strife again, and that was sure to make a
great impression.
Only if Strife really did think he was just a groupie Cupid didn't even want to
see him. What he wanted to do was get up out of his chair and make his way
across the crowded, smoky club to the door. He could always take the subway to
the Village and see what his father was doing, maybe crash at his place so he
wouldn't have to go home and make up another lie to tell his mother. The more
he thought about it the better that idea sounded, and he'd almost made up his
mind to bail when someone stopped in front of his table.
"So you showed after all."
He looked up, blinking at the girl standing between him and the stage. She had
short blonde hair, and her features were twisted into a smirk that would have
made him nervous if he hadn't already finished a beer and a half. She looked
familiar, but he couldn't remember where he'd seen her before. "Do I know you?"
"I'm with the band," she answered, her smirk fading into a grin that told him
whatever she did for the band was pretty important, at least to her. "You wanna
go backstage? I know Strife'll want to see you."
Cupid paused with his lips slightly parted, glancing past her at the still-
empty stage for a second before he turned his attention back to her. "You sure
he won't mind? I mean don't they go on soon?"
"They've got plenty of time," she answered. "Come on, I'll take you back
myself."
"I don't mind waiting," Cupid said, some of his buzz wearing off as it sunk in
that she was actually offering to take him to Strife. He should have jumped at
the chance; that was the whole reason he was there by himself, after all, but
something about the way she kept smirking at him made him wonder what he was
getting himself into. "I'm really just here to hear them play anyway."
"Sure you are." She smirked again and grabbed his arm, hauling him up out of
his chair. "I'm Gabbie," she called over his shoulder as she dragged him
through the crowd toward a door at the back of the club. "I'm the band's
manager, I set up the gigs and stuff. Don't worry, it's totally cool if you go
back."
Cupid wasn't at all sure he should believe her, but it seemed impolite to stop
her when she seemed so determined to bring him directly to Strife. Suddenly the
prospect of spending the night on his father's couch sounded like the best idea
in the world, and he glanced mournfully in the direction of the front door of
the club as Gabbie pushed him through the stage door and stepped through behind
him. Less than thirty seconds later he was being half-shoved, half-guided
through another door, and he blinked at the sudden change in light.
"Hey Strife," Gabbie said from behind him, and he glanced back at her long
enough to register the return of her smirk. "Look who I found."
Cupid followed her gaze, taking in the amused and not-at-all-surprised
expressions of the rest of the band before he forced himself to look at Strife.
He looked exactly like Cupid remembered, all pale angles and bright blue eyes
peering out at him from under a shock of dark hair. This time he was wearing
some kind of chain metal thing that covered his chest but left his arms bare,
and Cupid swallowed hard as he forced his gaze back up to those piercing blue
eyes.
The room was too quiet, and for a second Cupid thought about turning and
bolting out the door he'd just come through. Then someone cleared their throat
and somebody else unsuccessfully stifled a snort of laughter, and Strife stood
up and crossed the room. He didn't stop in front of Cupid, he didn't even say
hello or 'what the fuck do you think you're doing?'. He just grabbed Cupid's
arm and pushed him back in the direction of the door he'd just come through,
guiding him out into the dimly lit hallway and slamming the door shut on his
bandmates before he turned a glare on the other boy.

                             Part Four – Whatever
Cupid was bigger than Strife. Not alarmingly so or even so much that they’d
draw a lot of attention walking down the street together, but he was at least a
few inches taller and he definitely had more muscle than the too-thin man
staring him down. So there was no reason for him to actually be scared just
because Strife was glaring at him like Cupid had just insulted his mother. Or
his hair. He definitely looked scared, though, and Strife had to work hard to
ignore the surge of guilt that shot through him. He did his best to ignore
another, different kind of surge and narrowed his eyes even more dangerously,
taking another step forward.
He was almost surprised when Cupid backed up in response, but before either of
them knew what was happening Cupid was pressed against the wall and Strife was
standing less than a foot in front of him. Okay, so he wasn’t exactly sure what
he was doing, but he had every right to be pissed at Cupid. He was the one that
lied, and Strife was the one that had been putting up with the insults and
cradle robber jokes from his friends for the past four days.
“How old are ya?”
The question escaped his lips before he even realized he was about to ask it,
but he figured it was as good a place to start as any so he crossed his arms
over his chest and waited. Cupid’s lips parted and his eyes got a little wider,
then he looked down in the direction of Strife’s chest and he wasn’t sure
thanks to the dim light in the hallway, but he thought Cupid might be blushing.
Then the other boy’s tongue darted out to wet his lips and Strife stifled a
groan and rolled his eyes. “Look, Cupe, I know ya lied. High school, not
college, right? Yer eighteen, though…just say yer eighteen.”
“How’d you know?”
“That stuck-up bitch Gabbie knows some a yer friends from the clubs,” Strife
answered. “They’ve been givin’ me shit about ya all week. But yer a senior or
somethin’, right? So yer eighteen.”
“I’m a senior,” Cupid answered, but from his nervous expression Strife could
tell he was about to say something he didn’t want to hear.
“Don’t tell me yer like some kid genius that’s like fifteen and just looks
really old fer his age.”
“No…nothing like that, I swear.” His nervous little laugh was pretty cute, as
it turned out, but Strife ignored that thought and drew himself up a little
straighter. He was still at least three inches shorter than Cupid, but it made
him feel a little more in control. “I’ll be eighteen in a couple months. I
didn’t mean to lie about it, Strife, I swear. It just happened so fast and
then…and you just assumed…I didn’t really think it would matter.”
“Shit, Cupe,” Strife said, but he was talking more to himself than the boy he
had trapped against the wall. “Yer just a kid.”
“I am not,” Cupid protested, evoking a smirk from Strife. He sure as hell
didn’t look like ‘just a kid’, especially not with the new facial hair, but
just for a second when he denied it he sounded like one. Then Cupid let out a
sigh and slumped back against the wall, his shoulders sagging a little.
“Besides, it’s not like I expected to see you again or anything. I didn’t think
you’d care.”
Shit. This was exactly what Strife had been trying to avoid, so of course
Gabbie had drug the kid backstage the first chance she got. He knew Cupid would
turn up at the show, he wasn’t lucky enough to expect the kid to actually stay
in the suburbs where he belonged. And now he was standing right in front of
Strife, looking so…wounded. Like he was waiting for Strife to tell him he was
wrong, that he did care and he was glad to see Cupid no matter how old he was.
Which was so not going to happen, no matter how bad Strife felt for what he
knew he had to do.
“Look, Cupe, I got a lot goin’ on with the band…”
“I told that girl I didn’t need to come back here,” Cupid interrupted, looking
up with such a hopeful expression that Strife nearly lost the struggle against
the groan rising in his throat. “I would have waited until after the show.”
“Nah, It’s not that. What I’m tryin’ ta say here…wait. After the show? Doncha
got a train ta catch?”
As soon as Cupid shook his head Strife knew he was in trouble, but the smile
was what did him in. He wanted to be pissed – he was pissed; at Gabbie, at his
bandmates, at whoever was fucking with his life by handing over a perfectly
good teenage boy that he should stay far, far away from. He couldn’t be pissed
at Cupid, though, not when he looked so good and so much older than seventeen.
Life was really fucking unfair, and if it was the last thing he ever did he was
going to find a way to get even with God. If there was one of those.
“Look, I didn’t…” Strife paused and looked away, cleared his throat and forced
himself to look back at Cupid. He wasn’t used to being in this position, but he
was pretty sure the responsible thing to do was to ask. “I didn’t hurt ya or
nothin’ last time, did I?”
“Jesus, Strife, I’m not some virgin,” Cupid answered, and this time Strife was
sure he was blushing. “I asked you, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. Look, Cupe, I’m not lookin’ fer some kind of relationship
here. I got too much shit goin’ on with the band and all.”
“Me either,” Cupid answered, his expression a picture of sincerity. He looked
like he actually meant it, but even if he was going to be eighteen soon he was
still pretty young. Strife was pretty sure he was going to regret this, but it
was hard to resist when he had all that teenager practically pressed up against
him.
“So ya gonna stick around…fer the show, I mean.”
Cupid shrugged and damn, even that was kind of cute. He was definitely going to
regret this, especially when the rest of the band found out what he was doing.
There was still time to walk away, to tell Cupid they’d already had their fun
and it was time to move on. Before he could talk himself into it a strong hand
landed on the back of his neck, and a second later Cupid’s lips were moving
against his. He thought about stopping it, he even put his hands on Cupid’s
chest to try to pry his mouth away. Instead of pushing Cupid away he found
himself gripping the front of Cupid’s shirt, tugging him closer with one hand
while his other hand worked its way under Cupid’s coat.
And wow, he was looking forward to getting Cupid out of all those fucking
clothes, which just meant things had already gotten way out of hand. When he
finally summoned enough self-control to pull away they were both panting, and
he couldn’t help a little smile at Cupid’s dazed expression. “Sure you don’t
hafta catch a train before the show’s over?”
Cupid shook his head against the wall, his chest heaving invitingly under
Strife’s palm. “It’s Saturday. No school tomorrow.” He grinned again and pushed
himself off the wall, moving a little closer to Strife in the process. “So I’ll
see you after the show?”
Fuck. Just…fuck. This was not the way this was supposed to go at all. Strife
let out a resigned sigh and nodded. “Yeah. Just hang out out front, I’ll find
ya when we’re done.”
“Okay.” Cupid eased himself around Strife and it was a struggle not to grab him
and pull him back for another kiss. Strife stopped just short of rolling his
eyes at himself, shaking his head instead as he watched the blond turn and
disappear through the door that led to the main part of the club. Once he was
alone in the hallway his brain kicked back in, and he didn’t bother to suppress
the groan that escaped his throat. He’d been telling himself for days that if
Cupid showed up at the club he was going to blow him off, no matter how hard it
was to ignore the kid. He sure as hell wasn’t going to offer to meet him after
the show, and he definitely wasn’t going to take some teenager home with him.
But what else could he do? It wasn’t like he could drag him backstage for
another quick fuck, they’d already done that and anyway it wasn’t like he owned
the place. The manager would want them out of there pretty much as soon as the
show was over, and then there was the rest of the band to consider. So he had
to take Cupid home with him, and even though he’d never admit it part of him
really, really liked that idea. Granted the apartment he shared with Herc and
Iolaus was a dump, but he had a bed and it was more or less clean and the
thought of Cupid stretched out on his sheets where they could take their time…
He was officially losing his mind. He never should have moved to New York. His
mother was right, he hadn’t even been in town a month and already the city was
fucking with his head. Only he had a sinking suspicion his sudden bout of
sentiment had more to do with Cupid than the city, which was all the more
reason he should fake some kind of illness and get the hell out of the club
right now. Preferably through the back door.
“Strife, you gonna stand in the fucking hallway all night, man? We’re on, let’s
go.”
Hercules’ voice shocked him out of his reverie and he looked up, scowl firmly
in place as he pulled himself together and strode toward his friends.
“Where’d Jailbait go?” Iolaus asked, smirking at the thunderous expression
turning Strife’s eyes almost black.
“Quit fuckin’ callin’ him that,” Strife snapped as he shoved his way past his
band mates. He didn’t bother to look back and see if they’d followed him onto
the stage, if they’d come looking for him that meant they were ready to start.
He headed straight for the microphone and made a few unnecessary adjustments to
the height, keeping his attention focused squarely on the stage and not on the
audience. There was no way he was even going to glance in Cupid’s direction or
he’d never get through a set, let alone a whole show. He’d just put it out of
his mind and focus on the music, and when the show was over he’d deal with
whatever was going on between them.
~
By the time he got back out to the main part of the club Cupid’s table was long
gone, so he made his way over to the bar to order another beer and watch the
show from a safe distance. He wasn’t expecting to be dragged backstage before
the show even started, and he definitely wasn’t expecting to find himself
confronted with an angry Strife. Granted he had a pretty good reason to be
pissed at Cupid, but it wasn’t really that big a deal, was it? So he was a
couple years younger than Strife thought, he was mature for his age. Most of
the time.
And anyway it wasn’t like they were dating, Strife had made that perfectly
clear. What Cupid really didn’t get was why Strife had felt the need to point
that out when he wasn’t even from New York. Obviously they weren’t going to
have any kind of commitment when Strife was going back home eventually, Cupid
was just counting himself lucky that he got a second…whatever. It wasn’t like
he could really call it a one-night stand, or even a two-night stand. The fact
was that they hadn’t even spent a night together, all they’d gotten was half an
hour in the back of a club. It wasn’t romantic by any stretch of the
imagination, but Cupid was willing to take what he could get.
Maybe that was pathetic, but right then he didn’t really care. He was still too
caught up in the memory of Strife’s tongue mapping every surface of his mouth
to care about much of anything except the guy on stage and how much longer he
was going to have to wait before they could be alone again. The fact that
Strife wanted him to hang out until after the show ended was a good thing, at
least Cupid had been trying to convince himself of that since Strife told him
to wait out front. That meant they were going somewhere besides the back room
of the club, maybe somewhere with an actual bed. The band had to be staying
somewhere, and even if it was just a seedy motel room Cupid wasn’t complaining.
The thought of Strife taking him back to his room was more than exciting, but
he couldn’t help wondering what would happen after the main event. Maybe Strife
wasn’t the type of guy that wanted him hanging around after, and how was he
supposed to ask something like that, anyway? He had no idea if that was the
sort of thing you brought up before or after the actual sex. Was he even
supposed to bring it up, or did he just pretend he was asleep until he really
fell asleep or Strife woke him up and kicked him out? Somehow he had a feeling
Strife wouldn’t have a problem telling him to get out if that’s what he wanted,
but now that he knew Cupid’s age maybe he’d feel responsible for making sure he
got home safely.
And if that wasn’t the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him…he
didn’t even know that Gabbie chick, or how she knew who he was, but part of him
wanted to hurt her for humiliating him in front of Strife. It was bad enough
that she’d told him the truth about Cupid’s age, but then to drag him back
there and embarrass them both in front of the whole band…Strife was right, she
was a bitch.
Hating Gabbie didn’t solve his problem with how to play it cool once Strife
came looking for him, though. He’d never really thought of himself as ‘too
young’ or ‘just a kid’ before, but now that Strife knew how old he was Cupid
suddenly felt awkward and clueless about how to handle himself. Maybe Auto and
Psyche had been right to worry that he was in over his head, because the more
he thought about it the more he almost wished they’d show up and force him to
go home with them.
By the time the show ended he was ready to crawl out of his skin, and the bar
was practically empty when Strife finally appeared. He’d changed into a faded
black tee shirt with a picture of some band Cupid had never heard of before on
the front of it, and his black jeans hung low on his hips. “Let’s go,” Strife
said without meeting his gaze. In fact he kept glancing over his shoulder in
the direction of the stage door, almost as though he was trying to get out of
there before his friends showed up and saw him with Cupid.
“Yeah, sure,” Cupid answered, swallowing a rush of nervous tension as he stood
up and straightened his coat. He followed Strife to the door and stepped
outside, hurrying to keep up as Strife turned down the sidewalk and headed away
from the club. “Where’s the fire?”
“Sorry,” Strife muttered, slowing down marginally to let Cupid catch up with
him. He cast a sidelong glance at Cupid, some of the tension easing out of his
shoulders as his lips turned up in a crooked grin.
“What?”
“Nothin’. Yer hair, it’s different, isn’t it?”
Cupid smiled self-consciously and ran a hand through his hair, his gaze
shifting back to the sidewalk in front of him. “Yeah, there were red streaks
last time. They wash out.”
Strife nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, shivering a little in the
cool night air.
“Cold?”
“What? Nah,” he answered, surprise flashing in his eyes for a second before he
smiled. “I’m alright. We’re almost there.”
“Where are we going, anyway?” Cupid asked, suddenly feeling stupid for not even
questioning where Strife was taking him. Everything both his parents had
drilled into him about being safe and looking out for himself went right out
the window whenever Strife was around, but he couldn’t help feeling like he
could trust his new…whatever. They weren’t friends, really, and they definitely
weren’t boyfriends, so Cupid wasn’t sure exactly what to call them. Not that
they were going to know each other long enough to need a label, considering
tonight was pretty much the last time Cupid could expect to see him. That
thought made his stomach sink, and he pushed it away and focused on Strife as
they turned a corner.
“My place,” Strife answered, turning toward a run-down brownstone and taking
the stairs two at a time. “It’s kind of a dump, but it’s cheap and the
neighbors don’t bitch about the noise.”
“Your place?” Cupid frowned as he followed Strife up the stairs, ignoring the
graffiti on the walls and the way his boots stuck to the stairs. “You mean you
have a place? As in a permanent place?”
“Yeah, what’d ya think, I lived in the club or somethin’?” Strife laughed as he
stopped in front of a door on the second floor and fished in his pockets until
he found a key. “Herc and Iolaus crash here too, they share the living room and
I’ve got the bedroom. Neither of ‘em will share with me, think they’re afraid
I’ll jump ‘em or somethin’. They wish.” He let out another snort of laughter
and kicked the door shut, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter and pulling
the fridge open. “Ya want a beer or anythin’?”
“No…thanks,” Cupid answered distractedly, his mind reeling as he scanned the
obviously lived-in apartment. He could see the living room through the open
kitchen, taking in the two twin mattresses shoved against either wall. There
was no couch in sight, and they didn’t seem to have a TV. The small table in
what he assumed would be the dining room was littered with beer bottles, show
flyers and what looked like discarded sheet music, and the rest of the living
room was made up mostly of piles of clothes. “So you…live here?”
“Gotta live somewhere, right?” Strife twisted the top off a bottle of beer and
took a long swig before he turned back to Cupid and frowned. “Fuck, Cupe,
what’d ya think, we were sleepin’ in the van?”
“No, it’s just…” Cupid shook his head, trying and failing to snap himself out
of the fog that had settled over his brain. Strife lived here, in this
apartment. Which meant he lived in New York City, as in he wasn’t packing up
and going back to wherever he came from as soon as the band’s gig at The
Underground was over. Which meant…nothing, Cupid reminded himself fiercely.
He’d already laid down the ground rules for their…whatever, and the first thing
he’d said was that he definitely wasn’t looking for an underage boyfriend. “I
thought you were just in town to do a few shows. Auto – that’s my best friend –
he heard you were from Detroit or somewhere.”
“Was. As in past tense. As in good riddance. Ever been ta Detroit?”
Cupid shook his head, but the sensation made him feel a little light-headed.
Maybe he’d had too much beer at the show, or maybe this whole ‘casual sex’
thing was getting to be too much for him to handle. Either way he felt like he
should sit down very, very soon.
“Yeah, well, yer not missin’ much, trust me. Xena’s from here, the chick that
plays bass. Herc, Iolaus and me moved out like a month ago after our old
bassist bailed on us ta get hitched.” Strife stopped talking and stared at him
for a minute, his forehead creased as he watched the color drain out of Cupid’s
face. “You okay, Cupe?”
“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine,” Cupid answered, although he wasn’t at all sure he was
fine. Strife living in New York didn’t change anything, but at the same time
Cupid couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was happening that was
bigger than both of them. He shook it off and told himself to stop being stupid
or Strife really was going to start thinking he was just a kid. “Guess I just
drank a little too much at the club or something.”
“Yeah? Ya wanna lie down?”
Strife’s mischievous grin was infectious, and Cupid found himself nodding as
Strife stalked toward him. A pair of hands landed on his hips to push him
backwards down the hall, and he focused all his attention on not tripping on
any stray clothes and falling on his ass before they made it to Strife’s bed.

                          Part Five – One-Night Stand
It didn’t seem right that such a young, wide-eyed kid should come in such a
solid package, a body designed and groomed specifically for heartbreaking. And
Cupid could break hearts, Strife was sure that any number of guys could easily
fall in love with him. Not Strife, of course, because he wasn’t the type to
waste a lot of energy on stuff like feelings, but there were definitely guys
that could easily fall for Cupid’s looks combined with that shy smile and his
cute attempts to act more street-smart than he was. Maybe Cupid had broken a
heart or two already without even knowing it, but he’d never be the kind of guy
that would do it on purpose.
Strife was pretty sure of at least that, because even though he didn’t really
know the guy that well he could tell that Cupid really was as nice as he
looked. So he worried; he worried about telling Cupid that he wasn’t looking
for a boyfriend, and even though Cupid said that was fine he still worried
about it. Mostly because Cupid was a good kid and Strife didn’t want to be the
one to break his heart for the first time, but a little part of him felt kind
of guilty for throwing the kid down on his bed no matter how willing he was. He
didn't have a reason to feel guilty; this was why Cupid came to the city, and
this was why he’d hung around the club long after the show ended. Strife still
couldn’t help feeling a little like he was playing with something he’d been
warned to keep his hands off, though, like when he was really little and his
grandmother wouldn’t let him touch the shiny glass figurines in her living
room.
Of course the first time he got his hands on one of them he broke it, and the
guilt he felt over that was almost as bad as what he felt as he straddled
Cupid’s waist and started pushing his tee shirt over his chest. The thing that
was making him feel really bad wasn’t that he wanted Cupid, what really
bothered him was that he knew he was going to go through with it even though he
shouldn’t. It wasn’t so much that he thought he was so irresistible, he’d been
turned down more than once. At first he’d really thought Cupid was kidding when
he asked Strife to fuck him, it wasn’t like beautiful guys walked up and
propositioned him every day. It happened, but not enough that he’d started
getting used to it.
Strife kept trying to tell himself that Cupid was old enough to know what he
was doing, but every time he thought it he pictured Cupid’s face when Strife
asked him how old he was. He hated feeling guilty, and it was officially in
danger of ruining his good time. The last thing he wanted to do while he had
the kid stretched out in his bed was think about all the reasons they shouldn’t
go through with this, so he pushed the thoughts as far back in his mind as they
would go and focused on the hands that had managed to work their way under his
shirt while he was distracted.
And he had to admit he really liked the way Cupid's hands felt on his skin, up
under his ratty Agnostic Front tee shirt. He wouldn't even have minded so much
if Cupid had just torn the damn thing off him, but he was surprisingly gentle
in a way that almost translated as shyness. When Strife was in high school he
was still back on 'fumbling' and 'awkward', so Cupid's gentle almost-confidence
made him wonder exactly where the kid had learned what he knew. Not that it
mattered, because this was just sex and Cupid didn't owe him any explanations.
He reached for the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head, letting Cupid
up long enough to get his shirt off too.
The sight of all that smooth, golden skin was enough to make him forget why
he'd been hesitating a few moments ago, and when Cupid leaned forward and
opened his mouth against Strife's neck he let out a low moan and threaded his
fingers through blond hair. Cupid's mouth moving on his skin was the sweetest
kind of torture, each little nip and kiss sending a shiver of anticipation
straight to his groin. Part of him was screaming for him to hurry things up, to
get them out of the rest of their clothes as quickly as possible so he could
bury himself in that tight heat again. There was another part of him that kind
of liked the idea of taking this slowly, though, and as Cupid's mouth worked
its way down to tease his left nipple he decided he really liked that idea. So
maybe he'd die of the sheer torture of letting Cupid taste every inch of him,
or maybe he'd just come in his jeans like some kid. Either way he was suddenly
determined to make it last, because this was the last time he was going to get
the chance to do this.
It had to be the last time, because once with a high school kid was bad enough,
but twice was pushing it. Three times – he'd never live that down, in fact if
Herc and Iolaus figured out who he had in his bedroom he might not live tonight
down. It was hard not to regret his decision to cut things off after tonight
when Cupid was pressed against him, his arms wrapped firmly around Strife's
back and his mouth moving to torture the neglected side of Strife's chest. He
groaned and tightened his hands in Cupid's hair as he felt teeth tugging gently
at his nipple ring, forcing the younger man to look up. When their eyes met he
leaned forward, capturing full red lips with his own and teasing Cupid's mouth
open with his tongue.
Even the way he tasted was addictive, beer and a hint of citrus mingled with a
taste that was pure Cupid. Strife moaned and thrust forward instinctively, the
sound turning to a frustrated groan when he failed to find the friction he was
searching for. A second later Cupid's hands left his back to reach for his
zipper, and before he had a chance to react his jeans and underwear were being
shoved down his hips. He scrambled off Cupid's lap long enough to kick off his
boots and socks, then he yanked his pants the rest of the way down and tossed
them on the floor. When he turned back Cupid was working his way out of his own
clothes, and Strife swallowed hard as he watched a pair of pinstriped boxers
slide down Cupid's thighs and hit the floor.
Cupid was even more beautiful than he remembered, or maybe it was the fact that
he wasn't in a hurry to get off and get back onstage tonight. He had a feeling
he'd think Cupid was even more beautiful in the morning, though, and his
stomach did a weird little flip at the thought of the younger man waking up in
his bed. He couldn't just kick him out, he'd long since missed his train and
Strife wasn't going to just throw him out in the middle of the night. Maybe
bringing him back to the apartment hadn't been the best idea he'd ever had, but
he couldn't quite talk himself into regretting it.
Then Cupid reached for him again and he stopped thinking at all and let himself
be pulled forward, his knees on either side of Cupid's thighs as he pulled
Strife down for another kiss. Strong hands moved across his back again, tracing
the angles of his shoulders as Cupid pressed up against him. He found the
friction he’d been looking for, a tortured groan escaping his throat as he
ground down against the solid body underneath him. Cupid’s chest heaved
underneath him, his hands gripping Strife’s hips hard enough to leave perfect,
finger-shaped bruises as he tried to get them even closer. He could tell from
the way Cupid was rocking urgently against him that this could be over before
he was ready, so he tore his mouth away with a gasp and pulled back enough to
look down into dark, unfocused eyes.
Which turned out to be a pretty bad idea, because he wasn’t prepared for the
open, vulnerable expression on the kid’s face or the things it did to his
stomach. Just looking at Cupid made him think things he knew he shouldn’t be
thinking, and he had to swallow hard and tear his gaze away just to keep
himself from saying something he’d definitely regret in the morning. He turned
his attention to Cupid’s neck, leaning down and pressing his lips to the soft,
golden skin he found there. And Cupid was still rocking helplessly against him,
so he reached down and pressed a hand against his hip to hold him against the
mattress. He got a needy little whimper for his trouble, and he grinned against
Cupid’s skin and started working his way down to his collarbone.
He opened his mouth against the other boy’s skin, sucking hard until he was
satisfied that the mark would last awhile. The thought of Cupid looking in the
mirror or running his fingers over Strife’s mark while he was in the shower and
remembering tonight made the pressure in Strife’s groin tighten, and he reached
down and clamped a hand around the base of his cock until the worst of the
urgency ebbed out of him. Once he had himself back under control he turned his
attention back to the body pinned underneath him, ignoring Cupid’s wordless
pleas for just a little more, just enough to take the edge off. There was no
way he was letting Cupid come before he was ready, at least not if he could
help it. He wanted to be inside Cupid when he finally let go, to hear it and
feel it while he watched Cupid lose control.
His cock twitched in response to that thought but he ignored it and focused on
the task at hand, namely tasting every inch of Cupid’s skin. He ran his tongue
over the sensitive spot where Cupid’s armpit met his shoulder, breathing deeply
to take in his heady, masculine scent. The skin just inside Cupid’s elbow was
less salty than the skin on his neck, and by the time Strife lifted one of his
hands and sucked his index finger between his lips Cupid’s head was practically
thrashing against the pillow. As soon as he felt Strife’s mouth close around
his finger he stopped moving except for an involuntary, minute thrusting of his
hips, his eyes wide as he watched his finger disappear between Strife’s lips.
Judging by his expression Strife guessed that nobody had ever done this to him
before, which wasn’t all that surprising considering. Still, the way Cupid’s
lips parted and his body went almost completely still, his attention focused
totally on Strife’s mouth as though he was mesmerized by the simple act of
having his fingers sucked…Strife had to admit that it was pretty cool to watch.
More than cool, it was a complete turn-on to know that he was the first person
to ever do this to Cupid. Not that he wasn’t turned on just looking at Cupid.
Or thinking about him. Pretty much the sound of his name could do it at this
point, a fact that Strife was trying not to dwell on.
He let Cupid’s finger slip from his mouth at last, grinning at the dazed
expression marring Cupid’s perfect features as he leaned forward and pressed
their lips together again. Cupid surged up as soon as their lips touched, his
hand clamping down on the back of Strife’s neck to hold him in place as he
kissed him back almost brutally. When they finally parted to gasp for air
Strife was careful to avoid meeting Cupid’s gaze, sure if he did that he’d lose
it right then and there. Instead he pushed himself up on one elbow and ran his
free hand down Cupid’s chest, splaying his fingers across Cupid’s stomach as he
leaned forward to follow the trail of his hand with his mouth.
The body underneath his strained against him, Cupid’s fingers in his hair to
guide Strife’s mouth to where he needed it most. He couldn’t remember the last
time he’d actually bothered to take his time this way, in fact he couldn’t
remember the last time he’d wanted to. Every new sound that escaped Cupid’s
throat made it worth it, though, and he grinned when Cupid’s fingers tightened
even further in his hair. Finally he took pity on the younger man and settled
between his legs, closing his fist around the base of Cupid’s cock. For a
second he thought that touch alone might bring Cupid over the edge, but he
increased the pressure of his grip and waited until the shuddering in Cupid’s
body subsided.
When he was reasonably convinced that Cupid wasn’t going to lose it before he
was ready Strife leaned forward, letting out a hot breath against the head of
Cupid’s cock. It twitched in response and the hands in his hair tightened
painfully for a second before Cupid mustered enough self-control to loosen his
grip. His fingers began moving slowly in Strife’s hair, stroking the
encouragement he couldn’t verbalize as Strife finally ran his tongue along
Cupid’s length.
He rolled the new, slightly bitter flavor around on his tongue for a second
before he closed his lips around the head of Cupid’s cock and slowly took as
much of him as he could into his mouth. He could practically feel the pressure
building in Cupid’s groin as he slid his mouth back up the other man’s length,
and if the frustrated moans escaping Cupid’s throat were any indication, he
wasn’t going to last much longer no matter how hard Strife tried to hold him
off. With a final stroke he let Cupid fall from his mouth again, moving lower
to nuzzle the soft skin of Cupid’s thighs as he pushed his legs further apart.
As soon as Cupid figured out what he was doing he pulled his knees up and
apart, squeezing his eyes shut tight at the first brush of Strife’s tongue
against the entrance to his body. Strife wished suddenly that he’d thought to
track down a condom and the tube of lube he knew was somewhere in the room
before they’d gotten started, because he wasn’t sure Cupid was going to be able
to hold out much longer. He was already pressing down to try and get Strife’s
tongue even further inside him, opening easily to the older man. Strife’s own
cock was reaching the point of painfully hard, and when Cupid let out a low
moan and gasped a barely coherent word Strife pulled back and scrambled for the
only other piece of furniture in the room. It barely took thirty seconds for
him to retrieve the lube and a condom from the top drawer of the small dresser
that had been there when they moved in, but the entire time Cupid’s voice
echoed in his head.
His barely audible please repeated over and over in Strife’s head, sending a
shiver from the top of his spine straight to his groin as he climbed back onto
the bed and settled between Cupid’s legs again. He should have been embarrassed
at the way his fingers shook as he fumbled with the condom wrapper, but he was
too busy focusing on not coming and ruining the moment. When he finally got the
condom on he coated it with lube, gritting his teeth against the almost painful
touch before he turned his attention to the boy stretched out on his bed.
When he looked down at Cupid again he paused, his breath catching in his throat
at the sight of the younger man staring back at him, his knees drawn up and his
fist around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming. He knew he should
make Cupid flip over, that it would be a lot easier to keep himself from
getting attached if he kept things as impersonal as possible. It was a little
late for that, though, and suddenly he really, really wanted to watch Cupid’s
face while he fucked him. It wasn’t something he usually even thought about,
but right then the idea appealed to him in a way he wouldn’t have thought
possible before he met Cupid.
He covered Cupid’s chest with his again, pushing the younger man’s hand out of
the way as gently as possible before he leaned forward to press another kiss to
Cupid’s lips. Which was another thing he knew he’d probably spend the whole day
tomorrow wondering about, because it just wasn’t normal to want to keep kissing
somebody he didn’t really even know. He pulled away with a gasp when he felt
Cupid’s hand close around him for the first time, lining them up as the younger
man thrust down to meet him. Before he regained control of his senses he found
himself buried deep inside Cupid, and his knew his expression was betraying his
shock. He couldn’t make himself care, though, not when Cupid was already moving
against him.
With an uneven breath he reined in control of his emotions and pulled out,
pausing long enough to look down at Cupid. Solid, muscular legs wrapped around
his waist as Cupid’s eyes opened to gaze back at him, and that was enough to
strip away his last shred of self-control. He reached between them to close his
fist around Cupid’s length again, stroking hard in time to his thrusts. He set
a relentless pace, his chest heaving with the exertion as Cupid met every
stroke. It barely took any time at all before Cupid was tensing under him,
thrusting even more wildly to try to draw Strife deeper. Strife’s grip
tightened and he twisted his wrist just enough to surprise Cupid into losing
control, burying himself as deep inside the younger man as he could while he
rode out Cupid’s orgasm.
Cupid tightened convulsively around him, nearly drawing Strife over the edge
with him as he moaned his release. Somehow Strife managed not to come, burying
his face in Cupid’s neck and pressing frantic kisses against his skin as a pair
of strong arms wrapped around him. Finally Cupid’s grip on him slackened and
before he could stop himself he captured the other man’s mouth with his again,
thrusting a little more urgently as Cupid’s lips parted under his. He had no
idea until now what he’d been missing, but it turned out that making out with
Cupid while he fucked him was even hotter than the first time they’d done this.
Cupid was still breathing heavily but he thrust up to meet each of Strife’s
strokes, moaning into Strife’s mouth every time the older man’s cock brushed
against his prostate.
Finally Strife tore his mouth away from Cupid’s, his hands braced on either
side of Cupid’s face as he stared down at him. Then Cupid reached up, his
fingers caressing Strife’s face just above his cheekbone. The simple touch
shouldn’t have had any affect on him, but before he knew it Strife was burying
himself as deep as he could inside Cupid, his back arched as he screamed
something he hoped to God wasn’t Cupid’s name. He vaguely registered the sound
of heavy metal music coming from the opposite side of the wall, but his brain
was fried by his orgasm so he didn’t think too hard about what that meant.
When the last wave of pleasure finally passed he collapsed against Cupid again,
barely aware of the arms wrapping around him or the feather-soft kisses on his
temple. All he knew was that his bones had melted at some point while he was
coming, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t ever be able to move again. Cupid
didn’t seem to mind, though, so he didn’t bother to move out of the arms
holding him tight against the other man’s sweat-slick chest. Only when Cupid
shifted under him and let out a small hiss of what sounded like pain did Strife
remember that he was still buried inside the blond, and he pulled out as
carefully as possible and carefully removed the condom before he looked down at
Cupid again.
For a long moment he studied Cupid’s face, searching for any signs that he’d
been too rough. Cupid didn’t look like he was in pain, though; he looked sated
and sleepy and suddenly younger than he actually was, but as far as Strife
could tell he hadn’t broken him or anything. He swallowed a sigh and reached
down to pull the sheet up over them, intent on settling down as far away from
Cupid as he could get without actually looking like he was trying to keep his
distance. The last thing he needed to do was cuddle with the kid, no matter how
tempting it was. As it turned out there wasn’t a whole lot of room for him to
go, though; Cupid took up a decent amount of space in the small bed, and when
Strife turned to collapse on the mattress he found himself half on top of the
other man.
He looked down to find Cupid watching him, his lips slightly parted and just as
inviting as they’d been when Strife was still inside him. Before he could stop
himself Strife braced his hands on either side of Cupid’s face again, freezing
for a second when Cupid leaned up to meet him in a gentle kiss. The tenderness
of it startled him, but he couldn’t stop himself from melting into the
sensation. It was just the fact that his brain had melted out of his ear a few
minutes ago, that was the only explanation he could come up with for why he was
letting this happen. Whatever the reason it felt really good, though – better
than good, it felt right in a way he hadn’t let himself think about since he
first set his sights on making it in the music industry.
There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to regret this in the morning,
a thought that sobered him enough to tear his mouth away from Cupid’s and look
down at him again. He knew his eyes were wide and he probably looked either
terrified or pissed, but when he registered Cupid’s expression his heart
melted. Cupid’s big brown eyes were clear now, the lust-induced glaze was gone
and it was obvious that he was bracing himself for Strife to say something he
didn’t want to hear. Maybe he even thought Strife was going to be an asshole
and kick him out, and Strife couldn’t really blame him for at least wondering
if he was going to be allowed to spend the night.
Maybe he should have just let Cupid think he was a complete asshole, maybe he
should have kissed him on the cheek and said something obnoxious like ‘thanks,
kid’ before he tossed him his clothes and threw him out. He couldn’t do it,
though, even if the very reason he couldn’t do it was the reason he should. He
had no idea what Cupid thought about any of this and he was pretty sure he
didn’t want to know, but for some reason he couldn’t explain he didn’t want
Cupid thinking he was a complete bastard. He swallowed the urge to mumble some
excuse and leave Cupid to fall asleep in his bed alone, telling himself even as
he leaned in for another kiss that he was just doing it so he didn’t have to
keep looking at the younger man.
It was partly true, because he wasn’t sure he could stand to look into those
eyes for much longer without just asking Cupid what he wanted. Doing that was
as good as admitting that he’d be willing to consider anything other than
exactly what this was: a one-night stand. It wasn’t going any further than
that, no matter how good a kisser Cupid was or how good the sex was. In the
morning everything would be totally normal again, all these weird sentimental
feelings would go away and he could just tell Cupid that this was it. They
weren’t seeing each other anymore and that was the end of it, Cupid knew it was
coming so it shouldn’t even be hard.

                         Part Six – The Bathroom Rule
Strife woke to the feeling of something soft tickling his cheek. He reached up
without opening his eyes to brush at whatever was tickling his skin, only to
find his fingers buried in the source of the softness. A voice muttered
something he couldn’t make out and he forced his eyes open, the night before
flooding back to him with startling clarity. He looked down to find Cupid
sprawled half across his chest, one strong arm draped over his waist and his
face pressed so far into Strife’s neck that he couldn’t see anything past a
shock of blond hair. He’d known when he told Cupid he could stay that it was a
bad idea, but this was too much. They were cuddling, for fuck’s sake. Strife
didn’t cuddle, he wasn’t even any good at sharing. Most of the time he was
accused of stealing the covers or kicking in his sleep. Of course he didn’t
have much chance to do either with a kid as solid as Cupid pinning him to the
mattress.
He knew he should wake Cupid up. It was light enough in the room to tell him it
was morning even if he couldn’t lift his head, and letting the kid hang around
was just delaying the inevitable. He lifted the hand that wasn’t already in
Cupid’s hair and reached out cautiously, tracing the curve of Cupid’s shoulder.
It was barely a touch, so soft that Cupid might not even have felt it if he’d
been awake. Strife told himself he was just being gentle because he didn’t want
to scare the other man, but there was a tiny voice in the back of his head that
kept insisting he kind of liked waking up draped in Cupid.
It was ridiculous, of course. Sure, he liked Cupid, liked him enough to take
him to bed and not kick him out until morning. He wasn’t harboring any secret
feelings for the kid, though – hell, he barely even knew him. But it had been a
late night, and he couldn’t hear any movement from the rest of the apartment so
they hadn’t slept later than Herc and Iolaus. That was a better reason than any
to wake Cupid up and get him out of the apartment as fast as possible, but
instead of shaking the kid awake as he’d planned Strife found himself stroking
Cupid’s hair.
And now he was really losing it, because there was no way he should be petting
a one-night stand. He shouldn’t be doing anything that didn’t involve getting
up and getting the hell away from the solid warmth draped all over him. He
definitely should not be thinking about how hard it would be to angle his head
so he could kiss those full, red lips again, or what would happen if Cupid woke
up and realized that Strife was actually holding him. He rolled his eyes at
himself and let his hand fall back to the mattress, succeeding in evoking
another sleepy murmur from the body on top of him.
This time instead of snuffling into his neck and going right back to sleep
Cupid shifted, his hand dipping dangerously low on Strife's hip as he blinked
and picked his head up off Strife's chest. And there it was, the thing Strife
had been afraid of since the moment he first laid eyes on Cupid: that smile.
Up-close and drowsy it was even more irresistible than it had been the night
before at the club, and before he could stop himself Strife was angling forward
to get another taste of those lips. He just needed to erase that smile, or at
least block it from his vision until he got a handle on his reaction to it.
There was no way he could wake up to that look from someone as beautiful as
Cupid and be expected to control himself, it just wasn't right. The kid had a
lethal weapon and he probably didn't even know it, either that or he did the
best innocent act Strife had ever seen.
Stale beer and the tang on Cupid's tongue told Strife he wasn't dreaming, that
this wasn't just some fantasy his overactive imagination had cooked up because
he was bored with the daily grind of trying to make it in the New York club
scene. Which meant that Cupid really was in his bed, and he really was still a
high school senior. That knowledge was better than a bucket of ice water, and
Strife pulled away with a gasp and fell back against the pillows again. "Uh…"
"Yeah." Somehow it didn't matter that they sounded like a couple of idiots,
because Strife could tell just by looking at Cupid that he knew exactly what
was going on. So he hadn't woken up with any dreamy, romantic notions about
Strife falling in love with him just because they'd fooled around a couple
times. That didn't make him any less young and innocent, and it didn't make
Strife any more available for some messy romantic entanglement. "Mind if I take
a shower before I leave? It's like a two hour train ride."
Well he hadn't thought of that, but he could hardly ask Cupid to put his
clothes back on and get the hell out without at least lending him a toothbrush.
That would be almost as heartless as kicking him out after they had sex, and he
definitely wasn't a heartless guy. He stared up at the younger man for another
moment, weighing his options before answering. "You…uh…ya mind sharing?"
The grin returned almost as bright as it had been before Cupid woke up
completely, and he didn't even need to hear the kid's answer to know he didn't
mind at all. The way he saw it this was really the best way for everybody –
Cupid got to clean up before he hit the road, and Strife might still have a
prayer of getting him out of the apartment before Herc and Iolaus saw him.
Besides, there was no way he could pass up a shot at a little more 'quality'
time with the kid. He grinned back and squirmed out from underneath Cupid,
digging around in his closet until he found two reasonably clean towels.
Cupid followed him into the bathroom so quietly that Strife wondered if maybe
he didn't really want to run into his roommates, but he shrugged off the
question and shut the bathroom door behind them. It was a tight squeeze in the
small space, especially with a guy Cupid's size, but he managed to squeeze his
way past the younger man and turn on the shower. While the water was warming up
he reached around Cupid and picked up his toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste,
offering it to Cupid first.
Judging by the size of Cupid's grin Strife might as well have offered him the
keys to a Porsche, but the kid's gratitude over even dumb little things like a
toothbrush did things to his stomach he didn't want to think about. He leaned
back against the bathroom door and watched the muscles in Cupid's back flex as
he brushed his teeth, admiring the view of Cupid's bare ass when he bent over
enough to spit and rinse his mouth.
"Thanks," Cupid said when he handed the toothbrush back to Strife.
"No problem," Strife answered, swallowing the word 'kid' before it could escape
his mouth. "You can get in if ya want."
Cupid smiled again and pulled back the shower curtain, testing the water before
he stepped inside and closed the curtain behind him. Once he was more or less
alone Strife glanced at his reflection in the mirror, scowling to erase the
practically giddy grin lighting up his eyes. He was not grinning about the
overgrown teenager in his shower, he was not. He was just being nice, there was
no law against that. As long as nobody found out about it, anyway. With a final
shake of his head he brushed his teeth and rinsed, taking a deep breath to
steel his nerves before he pulled the shower curtain back and climbed into the
shower with Cupid.
And damn, the kid looked even more beautiful wet. There had to be a God, and He
really fucking hated Strife. It was the only explanation for handing him
something so tempting that he didn't even have to do any work to get, and
attaching a whole mess of strings that Strife was in no mood to deal with. Life
just wasn't fair, and it was just his luck that instead of just falling off the
stage and breaking a leg or losing his voice that he got a shower full of way
too tempting teenager.
If he'd had a chance he might have made a quick exit, but no sooner did he step
under the spray than he found himself backed up against the wall and draped in
Cupid again. His hands went up to grip wet hair as Cupid's mouth landed on his
neck, his lips parting to suck hard on Strife's skin. Strife barely felt the
water hitting his chest as Cupid pulled back to examine his work, satisfying
himself that the mark would last before he began working his way down the older
boy's body. He slid to his knees in a single, fluid motion, evoking a gasp from
Strife as a hand closed around his quickly hardening cock and began to stroke.
As soon as Cupid leaned forward and took his first tentative taste Strife
couldn't believe he'd almost let the kid walk out of his life without ever
getting him on his knees. Then he remembered what it felt like to be inside
Cupid and he bucked into the younger man's mouth, forcing his eyes open long
enough to make sure he hadn't hurt him. Cupid's hands landed on Strife's hips
to hold him still, but his mouth was still moving up and down Strife's length
with enthusiasm. Strife knew he should just close his eyes and enjoy the blow
job, but he couldn't stop himself from reaching out and running a hand through
hair made dark blond by the shower. "Cupe," he gasped, barely loud enough for
Cupid to hear. "Look at me."
Cupid did as he was told almost before Strife asked, his big brown eyes glazed
with lust as he met the older boy's gaze. Strife swallowed hard and told
himself to look away, that it was way too intense to keep staring into those
eyes. He couldn't bring himself to do it, though, not when just the sight of
his cock sliding in and out of Cupid's mouth was enough to fuel his fantasies
for the next month. When he felt the pressure in his groin building to a climax
his fingers tightened reflexively in Cupid's hair, and before he knew what was
happening a hand reached behind him to cup his ass. He felt a finger slide
between his cheeks, but until it slid inside him he didn't even think about
what Cupid might have in mind.
Most of the time he thought of himself as a top, but the thought of Cupid
fucking him was enough to drive him over the edge, and he clamped down hard on
the finger buried inside him as he came in Cupid's mouth. He slumped back
against the shower wall, barely aware of the finger pulling out of him or the
fact that Cupid was standing up to cover Strife's body with his again.
"Strife," Cupid whispered in his ear, his own need digging into Strife's thigh
as the younger man thrust minutely against him, "I really want…"
Strife cut him off with a hard kiss, tasting himself on Cupid's tongue as he
plundered the other boy's mouth. When he finally released him he opened his
eyes and instantly wished he hadn't, because if Cupid kept looking at him like
that there was no way he was getting out of this shower a single man. "Top
drawer," he said, pushing Cupid less than gently in the direction of the sink.
"Hurry."
Cupid didn't waste any time producing a condom, and Strife turned and braced
himself against the shower wall so he wouldn't be tempted to watch Cupid's face
while he rolled the condom on. He felt his legs being nudged apart gently, then
Cupid's forehead was pressed against his shoulder and he felt a soft kiss being
pressed against his spine. The kid was so goddamn nice that Strife found
himself wanting to cry, which didn't make any sense so he swallowed hard and
focused on the distracting sensation of Cupid's cock slowly sliding inside him.
Only even that was gentle, or maybe more shy like Cupid had never actually done
this before and he was afraid of breaking him.
"Cupe?"
"Yeah?" Ragged, uneven voice, and Strife smiled in spite of himself.
"Ya evah done this before?"
"Jesus…" Sharp intake of breath as Strife thrust back to make his point,
drawing Cupid as far inside as he could get. "Not…not exactly."
"Well ya don't exactly hafta be so gentle," Strife said, suddenly unreasonably
pleased to be the first guy Cupid had ever fucked. "I can take it."
Another sharp inhale was his only answer, then strong hands clamped down on his
hips and Cupid pulled out almost all the way. He paused for one excruciating
second before slamming back into Strife again, a sharp gasp escaping his throat
as he buried himself to the hilt. Strife swallowed a surprised gasp and
scrambled for a decent grip on the tiles, but they were too slick and there was
no way he was going to live through this anyway. Cupid probably wouldn't last
long, but damn if the kid wasn't a natural. The angle was perfect to get him as
deep as possible, the tip of his cock brushing Strife's prostate with each
stroke. It was almost like their bodies were molded for each other…but he
wasn't gonna start thinking drippy shit like that, no matter how good Cupid
was. It wasn't romantic and it didn't have anything to do with love or fate or
any of that other shit, it was just a good fuck. An extraordinary fuck. Almost
as good as when he'd kissed Cupid while he fucked him the night before.
He braced himself for an especially wild thrust, clamping down hard on Cupid
just to hear him moan. Hell, he even liked the sound of the kid's moans, and
there had to be something wrong with that. He could definitely get used to
being the reason Cupid made that sound, but that was the problem, wasn't it?
Because every time he started to think that maybe they could see each other
just one more time he remembered that Cupid was still some kid from the 'burbs,
and he still had an image that he'd worked really hard for. It sucked, but that
was the way it had to be.
Way too soon Cupid tensed against him, burying himself as deep as he could get
in Strife and moaning his release against the back of Strife's neck. When he
found himself wishing he'd let Cupid go bareback he knew he was really in
trouble, and he nudged the body that was plastered to his back less than
gently. "Cupe, come on. Ya weigh like twice as much as me."
He was surprised to find that it hurt a little when Cupid pulled out of him,
but it had been awhile and that was definitely the most enthusiastic fuck he'd
ever had. Besides, it wouldn't be so bad to be able to feel Cupid inside him
for the rest of the day, and he knew every time he sat down he'd remember this
moment. Slowly he turned to face the other boy, rolling his eyes at himself
when his heart skipped a beat. He watched Cupid pull the condom off and reach
around the shower curtain to toss it in the trash can, hating himself even as
he reached out and pulled the younger man back toward him.
Cupid looked surprised when Strife pulled him down for another kiss, but he
wrapped his arms around the smaller man and parted his lips. And fuck, did he
taste good, which was something else Strife was definitely going to miss about
him. He was actually going to miss the kid, despite the fact that they'd never
even really had a conversation. Reluctantly he pulled away and reached for the
shampoo, pouring some into his hand before he handed it to Cupid. "Gotta wash
all this crap outta my hair," he said, scowling at the wet, sticky mass of hair
gel and sweat that used to resemble hair.
"Let me," Cupid said from behind him, not bothering to wait for an answer
before he pushed Strife's hands out of the way and started massaging his scalp.
He would have been embarrassed at the fact that Cupid massaging his scalp was
making him hard if just hearing Cupid's name didn't make him hard. He was
pretty much screwed either way, because if he let Cupid hang around it could
cost him his career, and if he didn't it would cost him…well, Cupid. Which at
the moment seemed like a much bigger loss than whatever it was he did for a
living, not that he could remember while Cupid's fingers were working the
shampoo through his hair.
He was so lost in the ecstasy of the strong hands on his scalp that he didn't
hear the bathroom door open, but when Cupid's fingers froze in his hair he knew
something was wrong. There was no time to react, to move away from the kid or
even try to pretend they weren't doing exactly what they were doing before the
shower curtain opened.
"Strife, we fucking agreed no sex in the…holy shit." Iolaus stopped mid-
sentence, mouth hanging open as he stared wide-eyed at Cupid. "Fucking
Jailbait? I mean…fuck, Strife…"
"Dude, fuck off," Strife growled, shoving Iolaus hard and yanking the shower
curtain shut again. He hadn't forgotten about the no-sex-in-the-bathroom rule,
not exactly anyway. It had just slipped his mind, probably because he was so
worried about getting Cupid out of the apartment before either of his roommates
saw them. He knew they'd heard Strife the night before, that was the reason the
heavy metal music had gotten louder all of a sudden. But they didn't know who
he'd brought home with him, and he'd been hoping to keep it that way. There was
no way he was living this down now, and he couldn't even enjoy the fact that
Iolaus had actually volunteered to walk in on him and some guy having sex in
the shower. The whole reason for the rule was so that Herc and Iolaus wouldn't
have to see it, at least that was what they'd said. Of course getting an eyeful
of naked and wet Cupid might have been what rendered Iolaus speechless for the
moment, but he wouldn't stay that way forever, no matter how many secret
fantasies he was hiding from Hercules.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, reaching up to run a hand through his
hair and coming up with a handful of suds. He frowned down at his hand, then
scowled and stepped back under the water to wash the shampoo out. "Fuck."
"Strife?"
Even worse, he could hear the uncertainty creeping into Cupid's voice, and he
couldn't believe that a few minutes ago he'd actually been contemplating
keeping the kid around. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid, and
Cupid was quickly becoming a major complication. He forced his eyes open and
pushed a mass of wet bangs off his forehead, letting out a deep sigh as he met
Cupid's gaze. "Look, Cupe, it's been fun, but I told ya, relationships just
ain't my thing."
"That is such bullshit," Cupid said, brown eyes that had looked so innocent a
moment ago narrowing dangerously. "I never asked you for anything, did I? I
knew the score when I came over here, and I never pretended I didn't. You're
the one trying to get away with something. You just didn't want your friends to
know you slept with me, did you?"
"Cupe, calm down," Strife said, his pulse picking up speed as he watched
Cupid's cheeks flush. He wasn't even sure what to do with an angry, naked,
dripping wet teenager, especially one that was twice his size. "There's a lotta
shit ya wouldn't understand…"
"Fuck you," Cupid interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest and looking
away. For a second he looked so much like one of those Greek statues that
Strife was almost sure he was going to wake up any second now, but then he
started talking again and ruined the affect. "I might still be in high school,
but I'm not a moron. You're embarrassed because I’m younger than you, right?
Your friends found out how old I am and you didn't want them to know you
actually liked me."
Well. Stupid he wasn't, and Strife found himself blinking as he struggled for
something to say. There was really no way out of this, not when Cupid already
had his number. The water pelting against his back started to turn cold, and he
reached up to rub his temples where they'd begun to ache. "I was just tryin' ta
keep things simple," he finally said. What he really wished was that Cupid
would get mad and storm out of the bathroom, leaving Strife alone to lean
against the shower wall and will himself to disappear.
"How old are you?" Cupid's voice was dangerously low, and for the first time
since they'd met Strife felt completely out of control of the situation.
"What tha fuck does that matter?"
"Just answer the question."
Strife took a deep breath and looked down, suddenly feeling a little stupid
about the whole situation. Cupid was hot, he was old enough to know what he was
doing, and if Strife liked him…but that was the thing. Did he like him enough
to put up with the shit his friends were going to give him? "Cupe, ya don't
understand. It's a punk band, ya don't know…"
"Answer the fucking question."
"Fine. I'm 20, ya feel betta now?"
He looked up at Cupid, eyes flashing defiantly as he met the other boy's stormy
gaze. For a minute they stood there, less than two feet apart and both of them
soaking wet. Then Cupid's eyes narrowed even more and his jaw clenched, and
before Strife could react he was out of the shower. He didn't stop to dry
himself off, he just grabbed his towel and yanked the bathroom door open.
Strife was caught between just letting him go and following him to try to make
him understand, but in the end he was too cold to stand in the shower anymore.
He let out a sigh and turned off the water, running his towel over his hair
before he wrapped it around his waist and followed Cupid into his bedroom. By
the time he got there Cupid was nearly dressed, his hair pushed off his face as
he leaned down to tie his boots. Strife's stomach twisted at the thought of
Cupid walking away hating him, and before he could stop himself he was talking
again.
"Cupe, ya don't get it. It's not about yer age…I mean high school…but yer
right, it's just a coupla years. It's not that, it's the band…"
"I could care less about your stupid fucking band," Cupid said, not bothering
to look at Strife as he pulled his jacket on and headed for the door.
"Cupe, come on," Strife tried again, not stopping long enough to worry about
whether or not he sounded like he was begging. Somewhere in the back of his
mind was a voice telling him that this was what he'd wanted, that Cupid was
walking away and that solved all his problems. Another, far less rational part
of him couldn't stand the thought of Cupid going back to his suburb to spend
the rest of his life hating him, though, and that part of him appeared to have
temporary control of his mouth and his legs. "Would ya just listen?"
His hand was on the front door before his pride caught up with him, but he knew
better than to think he could actually stop Cupid from leaving if he really
wanted to. For a second when Cupid stopped next to him and looked down at the
floor Strife's heart leapt – it actually leapt – and it scared him so much that
he straightened up and took a step backwards. That was enough for Cupid to look
over at him, disappointment clear in his eyes. "See you around, Strife," he
said, pulling the door open and slamming it behind him.
As soon as he was gone Strife squared his shoulders and told himself it was
exactly what he'd wanted the entire time. He'd just lost his mind for a little
while there because Cupid was so beautiful and he had such an amazing mouth,
but that was nothing to base a relationship on. He could think of worse
reasons, but still…he swallowed a sigh and ignored the two pairs of eyes he
could feel on him, turning toward his bedroom before either of his roommates
got a chance to say anything about the scene they'd just witnessed. He wasn't
in the mood to explain to them why he'd practically begged Cupid not to leave,
and he definitely wasn't in the mood to listen to them rehash all the reasons
why he should be glad he had left.

                        Part Seven – Father Knows Best
Once Cupid found himself out on the sidewalk the anger and righteous
indignation began to waver, and disappointment crept in to take its place. He
hadn’t really meant to storm out of the apartment, and maybe if Strife had
tried a little harder to talk him into staying he would have changed his mind.
Two stupid years – it would have been funny, he would have laughed if Strife
hadn’t been trying to hide him from his roommates. Strife wasn’t even old
enough to be in any of the clubs he played, and he was embarrassed by the fact
that he was involved with a guy two lousy years younger than him.
Okay, so it might have been closer to three years, because Cupid had a couple
months to go until his birthday and he had no idea when Strife turned 21. But
that didn’t change the fact that the guy Cupid really thought he might have
some actual feelings for was embarrassed by him. Which completely sucked – it
more than sucked, it was totally unfair and he couldn’t believe Strife was so
concerned with what his friends thought of him. Thinking about that just
reminded him of how little he really knew about Strife, and he rolled his eyes
and told himself to stop being so dramatic. It wasn’t like they were dating, it
was just sex. So really he shouldn’t even care what Strife or his stupid
friends thought of him.
He let out a frustrated sigh and turned in the direction of the subway station,
thankful that at least Strife lived in a part of the city Cupid was marginally
familiar with. It wasn’t the greatest neighborhood, but it could be a lot worse
and he was just a few stops down from where he’d have to transfer to go to his
dad’s place. He’d half-expected to end up there the night before, it had seemed
like a much more real possibility than falling asleep in Strife’s bed, anyway.
Not that he’d ever expected to be invited back to Strife’s place, but waking up
with him had been so…he couldn’t even find the words for it. He blushed just
thinking about it. And that kiss…it wasn’t fair that what had started out as
the most perfect morning of his life was turning out to be completely
miserable.
It was the first time he’d ever spent the whole night with somebody, and the
romantic, irrational part of him wanted to believe that it was special in some
way. Of course that was the part of him that Strife was probably trying to
avoid, and could he really blame him? It was stupid to think like that about
somebody he barely knew, but it didn’t make him wish for it any less. Only now
he didn’t know what he wished, because as mad as he’d been when he stormed out
of Strife’s apartment, part of him really, really wanted to go back there and
prove to Strife that he wasn’t just some dumb kid.
Hadn’t he already done that, though? Was it possible Strife could still think
of him as just some kid after the night they’d spent together? The whole thing
was starting to make his head hurt, and he knew he couldn’t face a two-hour
train ride back to Jersey until he at least took some aspirin. By the time he
reached the train platform he’d decided to take a chance that his dad was home,
even if it meant explaining what he was doing in the city by himself on a
Sunday morning. Not that he was really in the mood for one of his father’s
lectures, but he liked his dad’s boyfriend and if anybody could make him feel
better about the whole Strife mess they could. He certainly couldn’t count on
his friends to cheer him up after the last conversation he’d had with them, and
his mother would be too busy killing him for going into the city alone to
listen to him whine about his miserable love life.
By the time he reached his father’s apartment he was feeling sorry enough for
himself to forget how mad he was at Strife. He was tired, his head hurt and all
he really wanted to do was stretch out on his dad’s couch and whine about how
much his life sucked. The nice thing about hanging out at his dad’s place was
that he could do just that, and his father’s boyfriend would listen and even
offer sympathy. His father mostly just lectured him on how much better he was
than the losers he went out with, but sometimes even that made him feel better.
Less than three seconds after he rang the buzzer for his father’s place the
door opened, and he found himself face to face with his father’s live-in
boyfriend. “Cupid, what are you doing here? Are you alright?”
“Yeah. No. I don’t know,” Cupid answered miserably, running a hand through
still-damp hair as he wondered exactly how bad he looked. “Is my dad home?”
“Sure, he’s upstairs. I was just on my way to get a paper and some bagels, go
on up.”
“Thanks, Joxer.” Cupid smiled half-heartedly, ignoring the curious and slightly
worried expression on the older man’s face as he brushed past him and headed up
the stairs. He knocked on the door before trying the knob, frowning when the
door to his father’s apartment swung open. “Dad?”
“Cupid? What are you doing here?”
Cupid followed the sound of the voice into the kitchen, smiling in spite of
himself at the sight of his large, dangerous-looking father humming to himself
over a cappuccino machine. “Dad, you can’t keep leaving the door unlocked.
You’ve lived in the city for years, you should know better by now.”
“Joxer just ran to the store, he didn’t want to take his keys. Besides, I
seriously doubt anyone would break in here. And it’s not like I can’t handle
it.” His father turned around, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned
against the counter. “Now why don’t you explain to me what you’re doing in the
city at this hour on a Sunday.”
Cupid frowned and sank into one of the wooden chairs surrounding the kitchen
table, sighing dramatically as he planted his elbows on the table and covered
his face with his hands. “Don’t freak out.”
A smirk turned up the edges of the older man’s mouth as Cupid peered up at him
from under messy blond bangs. “Since when do I ‘freak out’?”
“The first time you met Auto and Psyche you kinda freaked out.”
“Well I thought he was your boyfriend. Anyone would have freaked out if their
son came home with that kid.”
“Dad.”
“I know, I know, he’s your friend. He still gives me the creeps. I don’t know
why you hang around those two.”
“Now you sound like Mom.” Cupid grinned at the expression on his father’s face,
his mood lifting already thanks to the familiar argument. His friends and their
unworthiness was pretty much the only subject his parents did agree on, and
Cupid used that piece of knowledge to his advantage whenever possible. In a way
he understood why his parents didn’t approve of his friends; until he started
hanging around with Auto and Psyche he’d been the quiet, studious type, and his
parents probably weren’t prepared for him to start wearing leather and piercing
various parts of his body. Not that he’d moved beyond his ears yet, but he’d
been thinking about it for awhile. Strife’s nipple ring was pretty cool, and
Auto kept daring him to get his tongue pierced.
But thinking about Strife wasn’t a good idea, because as soon as he did the
ache in his chest settled back in and his grin faded. He didn’t realize how
pathetic he looked until his father crossed the distance between them and
pulled out the chair next to his, his features marred with worry as he rested a
strong hand on Cupid’s shoulder. “What’s the matter? Did you have a fight with
your Mom?”
“No,” Cupid answered, wishing suddenly that it was something as simple as
arguing with his mother about his clothes or his friends or one of the hundred
other things that annoyed her about him. “I met this guy.”
“Oh.” His father shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glanced longingly
toward the entrance to the kitchen, and Cupid knew without asking that he was
wishing Joxer would hurry up and get back from the store. His dad had never
been that comfortable giving him advice about his love life, but it wasn’t like
his mom really understood. She tried, but most of the time Cupid got the
feeling that his being gay just reminded her of how much it hurt when she found
out his father was cheating on her with a man. Of all the adults in his life
Joxer was really the best at giving him advice on this stuff; he’d been the one
to help Cupid the most during his awkward coming out process, and he made a
great go-between when they had to break the news to Cupid’s father that he
wasn’t as innocent as they all wanted to pretend he still was.
“He’s in this band, War Bastards.”
“That’s the name of a band?”
“They’re a punk band.”
“I see. So you met this boy at one of your clubs?”
“Yeah.”
A heavy sigh escaped the older man’s throat, and he leaned back in his chair
and stared critically at his son. “You know how I feel about those places,
Cupid. I know kids today have fake IDs but…”
“Dad, I’ve heard the lecture a thousand times already,” Cupid interrupted
before his father could launch into what Cupid had come to think of as the
‘safe sex/anti-drugs’ lecture. He knew his father didn’t really have a lot of
room to talk in the safe sex department, at least if the stuff he’d overheard
his mother telling her friends when his parents first split up was any
indication. That didn’t make it any less embarrassing, and he felt the tips of
his ears heat up as a blush spread from his cheeks outward. “This isn’t about
that. At least I didn’t think it was.”
He paused when he heard the front door open, sending up a silent prayer of
thanks for Joxer’s good timing. They both looked up expectantly when he walked
into the kitchen, a bag of bagels in one arm and a Sunday paper tucked under
the other. “They didn’t have any cinnamon raisin left, so I got you apple
cinnamon instead. Am I interrupting?”
“Cupid was just telling me about the boy he met.”
Cupid rolled his eyes at his father’s dramatic tone, glancing at Joxer in a
silent plea for help. He’d always been grateful that his father had finally met
someone he could actually settle down with, but he’d never been more grateful
than he was when Joxer took the hint. “Ares, be nice. When’s the last time
Cupid’s told you about one of his boyfriends? You know why, too. You always
overreact.”
“I do not overreact,” Ares said. “I can’t help it if nobody’s good enough for
him.”
Joxer smiled indulgently at Ares and leaned forward for a kiss before he
straightened up again and set the bagels and newspaper on the table. “So tell
us about this guy, Cupid,” he said as he headed for the cappuccino machine to
finish the coffee Ares had forgotten about. “What’s he like?”
“He’s a complete jerk. I hate him,” Cupid said before he could stop himself. He
knew as soon as he said it that he sounded like a spoiled little kid that
hadn’t gotten what he wanted for his birthday, but he was too tired and
miserable to care. Strife was a jerk, he wasn’t worth worrying about and Cupid
knew better than to pine over some guy that didn’t even care about his
feelings. It was hard to just turn off his feelings, though, no matter how much
he wanted to. “At first I thought he was great, you know? He’s really cool, and
he’s got the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, and his voice…but he had to go and be
a total jerk just because he’s a couple years older than me.”
“Older? How much older?”
Cupid’s heart skipped a beat at the edge in his father’s voice, and he looked
down at his hands so he wouldn’t have to see the older man’s glare. “He’s only
twenty, Dad. It’s not that big a deal. Well, I guess he thinks it is, since he
was too embarrassed to let his friends see us together.”
“Twenty? Sounds like he at least has some common sense. He’s too old for you,
Cupid. You’re better off without him.”
“Ares,” Joxer chimed in gently, but Cupid could hear the warning behind the
single word. “It’s only two years, and Cupid will be eighteen in less than
three months. My nephew’s twenty, and Cupid’s more mature than he is.”
“I know, I know, he’s not a little kid anymore.” Ares sighed and looked over at
Cupid, frowning as though he was seeing how much Cupid had grown for the first
time. It was obvious that they’d had this conversation before, and Cupid
couldn’t help wondering how much time they spent talking about him. Suddenly he
wished he really was just a kid again, and he swallowed hard against the lump
that rose in his throat.
“It doesn’t even matter, it’s not like I’m ever going to see him again,” Cupid
muttered, his gaze fixed on the table so he wouldn’t have to look at his
father. “He made it pretty clear that he wasn’t interested in a relationship.”
A warm cup of coffee appeared in front of him, and Cupid smiled gratefully up
at Joxer as he wrapped his hands around the mug. The coffee and his headache
were only part of the reason he’d gone to his father’s apartment instead of
just going straight home from Strife’s place. As much as it embarrassed him to
hear his father tell him that no one was good enough for him, it felt pretty
good to know that someone thought that much of him. Right on cue his father
cleared his throat and stood up, retrieving a tub of butter and some plates
before he turned back to Cupid. “He’s not good enough for you, you know.”
“You say that about everybody.” Cupid supplied his line without hesitation,
grinning over the rim of his coffee cup when his father smiled at him.
“That’s because it’s true,” Ares said, reaching over to ruffle Cupid’s hair
before he turned away to find a knife for the butter. “Seriously, Cupid, aren’t
there any nice boys at your school? It’s not safe, picking up kids in the
clubs.”
“There’s Auto.” Cupid shrugged and reached for a plate, watching his father’s
expression out of the corner of one eye as he dug in the bag of bagels.
Ares grimaced at the mention of Auto, shaking his head as he sank back into his
chair and handed Cupid the butter knife. “Never mind. There’s got to be
someplace you could meet kids your own age without risking your health. You
could join a club or something.”
“What, like a gay singles club or something? Dad, come on.”
“There’s college,” Joxer interjected. He set another cup of coffee down in
front of Ares before pulling out a chair and setting his own cup of coffee on
the table. “There will be some type of support group there. Not a singles club,
but at least you’ll meet kids your age that are going through the same
experiences.”
Cupid managed a weak grin in Joxer’s direction, but he didn’t bother to tell
them that he wasn’t at all sure he’d meet anyone at college that could hold his
interest for long. The truth was that Strife had been the first guy he’d ever
met that he liked enough to want to pursue, and that had ended before it really
even started. So now he was stuck with the embarrassment of knowing that not
only had his friends been right to worry about him, but that all of Strife’s
friends were laughing at him for acting like a stupid groupie. And the worst
part was that he was probably going to compare everyone he met to Strife from
now on, which meant a lifetime of disappointment.
A strong hand landed in his hair and he found himself leaning into the
comforting touch, letting his father stroke his hair the way he’d done when
Cupid was still a kid and he woke up in his dad’s new apartment after a
nightmare. Once he got over the trauma of his parents’ divorce the nightmares
had stopped, but whenever he was brooding about something his dad always tried
to make him feel better by stroking his hair. Usually Cupid blushed and pulled
away, muttering something about his father needing to get a dog. He couldn’t
bring himself to protest today, though, so he let his dad think he was helping.
“If this guy’s worth it he’ll come around, son,” Ares said. His hand left
Cupid’s hair to grip his shoulder sympathetically for a moment before he pulled
away completely. “And if he doesn’t you’ll meet someone else. I know it
probably doesn’t seem possible now, but you just wait and see.”
“I know. Thanks, Dad,” Cupid said, managing what he hoped was a convincing
smile. “I should probably call Mom and tell her where I am. She thinks I spent
the night at Auto’s, the last thing I need is her calling around looking for me
and freaking out when she finds out I lied.”
“That reminds me,” Ares said, his expression hardening as he leaned back and
crossed his arms over his chest. “What exactly are you doing coming into the
city by yourself?”
“I wasn’t by myself,” Cupid answered automatically, but as soon as he realized
what he’d said he groaned and rolled his eyes at himself. “Come on, Dad, I’m
not a little kid, you just said so yourself. I know what I’m doing.”
“I’m starting to think you don’t. What do you really know about this guy,
Cupid? You’re roaming the streets of New York at night, not to mention those
clubs you hang out in. They’re not exactly in the best neighborhoods.”
Cupid laughed and stood up, his mood lifting a little as he listened to the
familiar lecture. “Relax, Dad, I wasn’t ‘roaming the streets’. Besides, nothing
happened.”
“This time,” Ares called after him as Cupid made his way into the living room
to call his mother. He shook his head and dialed the number, taking a deep
breath as the line connected.
“Hey, Mom,” he began, praying he’d manage to sound convincing enough to get his
story past her. “I’m at Dad’s, I called so you wouldn’t worry. Auto and I had a
fight and I needed to talk to Dad, so I caught the early train this morning.”
He held his breath as he listened to her fire off a series of questions about
whether or not he was okay and what they’d been arguing about that he couldn’t
discuss with his father over the phone. He only heard half her questions, but
he tried to focus enough to make his answers believable. As long as she didn’t
find out the real reason he was in the city he’d be okay, and that meant
keeping her from calling Auto’s house looking for him. As soon as he convinced
everyone that he was fine he could put this whole mess with Strife behind him,
and then he could start working on forgetting he’d ever laid eyes on the pale,
thin singer with impossibly blue eyes.

                      Part Eight – The Psyche Connection
Stupid Cupid You're a real mean guy
I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly
I'm in love and it's a crying shame
And I know that you're the one to blame
Hey Hey Set me Free
Stupid Cupid stop picking on me
When they started performing ‘Stupid Cupid’ back in Detroit Strife had just
thought it was funny to do a punk version of his mom’s favorite oldies song. He
liked the song, he’d always thought it was catchy, but since he met Cupid the
lyrics had taken on a whole new meaning. Still, he had a show to do, so he
belted the song out with his usual flourish, ignoring the image of a tall,
perfect blond that stubbornly refused to go away no matter how hard he tried to
focus on the crowd in front of the stage.
You mixed me up but good, right from the very start
Hey, go play Robin Hood with somebody else's heart
Whenever he did manage to focus on the crowd he found himself searching for a
glimpse of familiar blond hair or a broad, well-muscled chest covered in cotton
stretched just thin enough to leave room for his imagination to fill in the
blanks. Only he didn’t need to imagine what was under Cupid’s tee shirt,
because he’d had a close-up, personal view more times than he ever expected to.
You got me jumpin' like a crazy clown
And I don't feature what you're puttin' down
Since I kissed his lovin' lips of wine
The thing that bothers me is that I like it fine
Hey, hey, set me free
Stupid Cupid, stop pickin' on me
The last line of the song escaped his lips with even more bitterness than
usual, and he was thankful it was a punk version so no one would notice the
difference. Part of him regretted making that the band’s signature song, not
that he could have known that he’d actually meet a real live guy named Cupid.
Or that he’d turn out to be so hot. Or so nice. Or that Strife would find a way
to screw things up with him on such a grand scale that he had no hope of fixing
them.
Which was the real bitch of it, because he found himself wanting to fix it.
That was the reason he kept searching the sea of faces in front of him on the
slim chance that Cupid might actually show up at one of their shows. Not that
he really expected Cupid to show up anywhere that he might actually run into
Strife, and even if he did wander into their show by accident Strife had no
idea what to say to him. ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t really seem like enough, and he was
pretty sure ‘I’m a jerk’ and ‘you were right’ weren’t going to get him very far
either. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to bring himself to ask Cupid for another
chance, though, because he didn’t even know if that was what he wanted.
He set the microphone back in its stand as the set ended, barely noting the
screams of the crowd or the excited expressions on his bandmates’ faces. He
knew word was getting around about them and the crowds at their shows got a
little bigger every time they played, but lately he couldn’t make himself care.
The fact was that he felt bad for the way he’d acted, and even if he’d managed
to push Cupid away he couldn’t convince himself that it was for the best. He
didn't want to keep wanting Cupid, but it wasn't like anybody could really
blame him. Cupid was…well, maybe not perfect, he was a little young and that
whole scene in Strife's apartment he could have lived without. Still, he was
pretty damn close to exactly what Strife wanted in a guy, even if his timing
was terrible.
Not that it was Cupid's fault he'd stumbled into Strife's life when he did.
Hell, if Strife hadn't wasted two years in junior college they might have met
when Cupid was sixteen, and then he really would have been too young. He felt
pretty stupid now for acting like Cupid's age was such a big deal, especially
once he told Cupid how old he was and saw the look on the other boy's face. He
was pissed, and it wasn't like he didn't have a good reason. If he'd just
waited long enough for Strife to explain…but what good would it have done?
They'd still be in the same place they were now, only it would be even harder
to know that Cupid didn't hate him but they still couldn't be together.
And when did he go falling for the kid, anyway? They barely even knew each
other, but somehow he had a feeling that he was missing out on something
special when he let Cupid walk out of his life. He let out a sigh and told
himself to stop thinking about it. Cupid wasn't at the show, and the chances of
ever seeing him again were pretty slim so there was no reason to obsess about
it. He followed the rest of the band offstage, stopping short when he reached
the room at the back of the bar they'd been using as a dressing room. He'd been
looking forward to a beer and a little quiet between sets, but when he reached
the door of the small room it was packed.
There were girls everywhere, and right at the center of the crowd were Hercules
and Iolaus. As soon as he walked in the room somebody squealed – they actually
squealed, like he was Sid freaking Vicious returned from the grave – and the
eight or so girls that Herc had managed to drag backstage surged forward.
Before he had a chance to react he found himself surrounded by girls, all of
them talking at once and none of them making any sense. There were hands
everywhere; on his arms, in his hair, moving over his bare chest. He stretched
up to his full height in time to catch Iolaus rolling his eyes and Hercules
grinning like an idiot.
Somehow he managed to force his way through the crowd, ignoring his roommates
and their fan club as he fought his way to the back of the tiny room. He found
Xena crouched in the corner, adjusting the strings on her bass. "What the
fuck's all that about?" he practically shouted over the noise coming from the
front of the room.
Xena glanced up long enough to grin at him, her blue eyes sparkling. "What do
you think? Herc's in heaven. Some of them are kind of cute, I don't blame him."
Strife made a face as he glanced at the small crowd of girls again, sinking
into a metal folding chair while he watched Xena set her bass back in its case.
"Yeah, well there ain't enough room fer us in here as it is," he said. "Why'd
he hafta drag 'em all back here?"
"He didn't. Gabbie let them in, she said something about them being good for
our image. Although what a bunch of screaming girls does for a punk band I
don't really get. Not that I mind the girls part, but the screaming I could
live without."
"Figures. She would do somethin' like this," Strife grumbled, leaning back in
his chair and crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at his roommates.
"An' will ya look at those two idiots? They're eatin' this stuff up."
"Yeah, well, you would be too if it was a roomful of tall blond guys with
killer bods and chiseled features." Xena laughed at the look he shot her and
sank into the chair next to his. "Come on, Strife, when are you gonna snap out
of it? I've known you my whole life and I've never seen you get like this over
a guy."
"It's got nothin' ta do with Cupid."
"Sure it doesn't. Look, I don't know Herc and Iolaus the way you do, but you
guys have been friends since junior high. Don't you think if you just tell them
how you feel about the guy…"
Strife shot her a horrified look that stopped her in mid-sentence. "Are ya
outta yer fuckin' mind? Talk to those two about my feelings? Do I look like a
chick?"
"Well with the hair…" She trailed off with a laugh when he glared at her and
pulled her hand away from his hair. "Okay, okay, I get it, guys don't talk
about that stuff. But what's the big deal? If you like the guy why don't you
just tell Herc and Iolaus to fuck off?"
"We made a pact, right after Iphicles quit the band ta marry what's-her-face.
Nobody gets serious about anybody 'til we either break up or make it big."
"That's the dumbest fucking thing I've ever heard in my life." He tore his gaze
away from the back of the other guys' heads to look at her, the bitterness in
her tone surprising him. "Are you kidding me? You can't date somebody you like
because it might get in the way of the band? Were you gonna bother to mention
this to me?"
"Well we figured…ya know…" Strife trailed off and bit his lip, realizing too
late that telling Xena the truth about why they hadn't mentioned the pact to
her might be hazardous to his health. "It's just yer thing fer Blondie’s lasted
fer ages, an' we figured as long as yer hung up on her…"
"As long as I'm hung up on Gabbie there's no chance of me getting into a
serious relationship." She let out a deep breath and looked down at the floor,
shaking her head when he opened his mouth to defend himself. "No, you're
probably right. I mean I know she doesn't think of me that way. But you've got
a shot with Cupid, Strife. You should go for it, screw the band. If we make it
we make it, if we don't it's not the end of the world."
"Tell that ta Herc." Strife glanced over at his roommate again, a soft sigh
escaping his throat when he took in his friend's broad grin. "It's all he evah
fuckin' talks about. When he's not talkin' 'bout chicks, anyway."
"He just likes the glory," Xena said. "It wouldn't be any different if he was
an actor. Maybe he should try stripping, I bet he'd love all the attention he
got in the clubs. And Iolaus will go along with whatever Herc does. He's like a
puppy."
Strife was too busy laughing at the image of Hercules as a male stripper to
think about what Iolaus would do for his best friend. He'd commented more than
once on all the things he was pretty sure Iolaus would like to do for Hercules,
but he kept those kinds of observations between him and Xena most of the time.
Still, he had to admit she had a point. "It doesn't matter anyway," he said,
his laughter fading as he turned back to her. "Cupe hates me. He's never gonna
talk ta me again."
"He doesn't hate you."
"Yeah, he does. You shoulda seen 'im, Xena. He was pissed."
"Sure, he was pissed, but he doesn't hate you. How could he hate you? I know
better than anybody that you're not nearly as big of an asshole as you try to
convince people. And anyway, you're related to me. There's no way he could hate
you."
A bitter laugh escaped Strife’s throat at that line of logic. “So me bein’ yer
cousin means I’m what, unhateable?”
“That’s not even a word.”
“Ya know what I mean. ‘Sides, Gabbie hates me.”
“She only hates you because you hate her. That’s totally different. If you
tried being nice to her she might surprise you.”
He shot her a look that told her exactly what he thought of that idea, his
expression darkening at the reminder of why he didn’t like Gabbie to begin
with. “So not gonna happen.”
“I bet she could find out where Cupid lives.”
“She could not. Yer bullshittin’ me, right?”
Xena shrugged noncommittally and looked toward the front of the room, grinning
at the sight of their bandmates and their entourage before she glanced at
Strife again. “She knows somebody that used to hang out with that friend of
his. I think her name’s Psycho or something. But if you don’t want to know…”
“What good would it do?” Strife answered miserably. “I mean it’s not like I’m
gonna show up at his house an’ beg him to talk ta me.”
“Every once in awhile we’ve all gotta do a little begging, Strife. Besides, I
have a feeling it won’t be as hard as you think it’s going to be.”
Strife’s features lit up in an involuntary grin as he turned to look at his
cousin again. The thought of seeing Cupid…well, okay, it was a little scary,
but actually showing up in Cupid’s hometown would probably score him some
points. At least it would show that he cared enough to go looking for him, and
even if all he got to do was apologize maybe it would help him stop thinking
about it all the time. “He really hangs out with some chick named Psycho?”
“That’s what Gabbie said. Maybe it’s a stage name or something. She’s pretty
enough to be a performer.”
“Yeah, maybe.” The truth was Strife didn’t give a damn who Cupid hung out with,
as long as he was willing to give Strife another shot.
~
“He’ll come around, you’ve just gotta give him a little time. He was pretty
pissed after you just walked away from us.”
Cupid stopped rifling through his locker long enough to glare over at Psyche.
“Like I care. Auto can ignore me for the rest of his life, I don’t give a
damn.”
“Come on, Cupe, you don’t mean that. You guys are tight.” She frowned as she
stole another glance down the hall in the direction of her boyfriend, but Auto
was still standing with his back to them. She knew he knew they were talking
about him; he’d practically begged her to go find out what was up with Cupid,
and after watching him brood all weekend she’d finally given in just to get
away from him for a little while. The truth was she’d been wondering about
Auto’s overprotective attitude ever since Cupid first met Strife, and the
longer she watched them both brood the more she was starting to worry. “Fine,
if you don’t want to make up with him for your sake, can you think about me for
a second here? He’s been a complete dick all weekend, and I’m the one that has
to deal with him.”
“Look, Psyche, I’m sorry he’s being such a jerk. Sometimes I wonder why you
bother with him.” Cupid slammed his locker shut and turned around, glancing in
Auto’s direction before he looked down at Psyche again. “You could do way
better, you know.”
“It’s complicated,” she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Look,
just think about it, okay? You know how stubborn he can be.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll think about it. But for you, not for him, okay? I swear he’s
worse than my dad. He thinks he can just order me around and I’m supposed to
thank him for it.”
“Thanks, Cupe,” she said, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek before she
headed back to Auto. She knew he had a point about Auto, but it wasn’t like she
could just come right out and tell him her theory on what was going on. She
liked Auto, he was a fun guy and she’d known him forever. Cupid was a sweet
kid, though, and she didn’t want to end up having to choose between the two of
them. It was bad enough when she got caught in the middle, and she knew it
would be a lot worse if she came right out and said ‘I think Auto’s being a
jerk because he’s in love with you’.
The truth was she wasn’t even sure if that was it. She knew Auto had a thing
for Cupid that went a lot further than his usual interest in other guys, but
she didn’t know if he had feelings for Cupid or if he just kept trying because
nobody had ever turned him down before. Most of the people they met got a kick
out of the idea of a threesome that they didn’t have to work for, so neither of
them ever had a hard time finding a new guy or girl to keep things interesting.
At least that was what they always said it was about, but Psyche had been
wondering lately if they were just using that as an excuse to avoid making a
commitment.
Sometimes she wondered if they were getting a little old to keep acting like
this. Whenever she tried to talk to Auto about it he just told her to stop
getting all ‘girlie’ on him, like thinking about their relationship made her a
drag to be around. She was pretty sure she should be worried about that, but
she wasn’t sure anymore if she cared enough to let it bother her.
She took a deep breath as she got closer to Auto, steeling herself for the
inevitable grilling she was about to get on every detail of what Cupid had said
to her. Before she reached him someone grabbed her arm, and she turned to find
herself face to face with one of the girls she used to hang out with before she
and Auto started spending all their time together.
“There was somebody asking around about you last night at the show I went to. I
just thought you should know.”
Psyche frowned at the other girl, her mind racing as she wondered who could be
interested in her. “What’d you tell them?”
“She just wanted to know where you were from, that kind of thing. Actually I
think she was more interested in Cupid. She asked me if you two were friends.”
“She’s interested in Cupid? She’s barking up the wrong tree there,” Psyche
said, laughing at the thought of some poor girl pining away for Cupid. “She’s
not his type.”
“Yeah, well, just so you know, somebody told her what school we go to. I didn’t
tell her anything, but somebody did.”
“Thanks,” Psyche said distractedly as the other girl turned away from her. She
wasn’t sure if she should be worried about some strange girl knowing where they
went to school; a lot of people at the clubs in the city knew them, and it
wasn’t like Auto was careful what he told people. So it wouldn’t be that hard
to track any of them down, but she wasn’t sure why anyone would want to. She
turned to look for Auto but the hallway was practically empty, and there was no
sign of her boyfriend anywhere. “Just great,” she muttered, letting out a
frustrated sigh as she headed for the door.
She stepped out of the school and nearly collided with Auto, catching herself
before she ran right into him. “Jesus, Auto,” she muttered, glancing up at him
when he didn’t answer. As soon as she looked at him she saw that he wasn’t even
listening, and when she followed his gaze she realized why. Cupid was stopped
right next to the road, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders tense. He
was standing in front of a beat-up red van, and leaning against it was Strife.
At least she assumed it was Strife, he looked different when he wasn’t on a
stage screaming into a microphone. In the daylight he looked almost like he
could be just another kid at their school, and she realized for the first time
that he probably wasn’t that much older than they were.
“Guess that explains why somebody was asking around about us,” she muttered to
herself. As soon as she said it Auto shifted next to her, and before she could
react he was down the stairs and heading toward the parking lot. She rolled her
eyes and ran down the steps, praying she didn’t break an ankle trying to run in
heels. “Auto, would you wait up?” she called after him, although she had a
feeling he didn’t even know she’d been standing there.

                      Part Nine – Making Up is Hard to Do
The longer he stood there staring back at Cupid the more stupid Strife felt for
showing up in the first place. He felt like he was in one of those lame teen
movies, and this was the big finale where he showed up at the school and Cupid
jumped in the van and they went riding off into the sunset together. Only Cupid
hadn’t exactly appeared the second he drove up; he had no idea what time school
got out and Gabbie hadn’t been able to find out much more than the name of
Cupid’s school and the town he lived in. So Strife had been parked outside for
almost 45 minutes when Cupid finally appeared, and even then he wasn’t sure if
Cupid would see him.
It wasn’t like he was going to call Cupid’s name or run after him if Cupid
decided to pretend he wasn’t there and head in the other direction. Okay, so
maybe he would have been pathetic enough to run after Cupid if he tried to
ditch Strife. He’d already embarrassed himself by showing up at the school in
the first place, so he might as well go the extra mile and prove how low he was
wiling to go for a second chance. Thankfully Cupid didn’t force him to
completely humiliate himself, though. In fact he spotted Strife almost as soon
as he walked out of the school, and he didn’t even hesitate before he walked
over to the van. Since then he’d just been standing there, though, and Strife
wasn’t so sure anymore that this had been such a good idea.
“Don’t tell me, you’re cruising the high schools now. You run out of prospects
in the city already?”
Okay, so maybe he deserved that. Bitter looked pretty bad on Cupid, though, and
to his surprise Strife found himself feeling guilty for having that kind of
affect on the kid. Normally he’d get a charge out of the fact that somebody
like Cupid liked him enough to be that pissed, but he had a feeling he didn’t
really deserve it. “Look, I’m sorry ‘bout my place, okay? I know I fucked up.
Would ya just hear me out?”
“What’s the point? We both got what we wanted, right? You don’t owe me
anything, Strife.”
“I know that…fuck, Cupe, I’m tryin’ ta apologize here.”
“Why?”
That question Strife hadn’t been expecting, and he wasn’t sure how to answer
it. The truth seemed so raw, too much like just ripping his heart right out of
his chest and handing it over to a kid who might not even know what to do with
it. Cupid seemed more sure of what he was doing than Strife, though, and he was
pretty sure the truth was the only thing that was going to convince Cupid at
this point.
“’Cause I like ya,” he said, forcing the words out around the tightness in his
chest. “I know what I said about not lookin’ fer a boyfriend right now. See, I
made this deal with the band…”
“I already told you, I don’t give a damn about your stupid friends,” Cupid
interrupted. “If you came here to make yourself feel better you can just go
back to the city. I don’t want to hear it.”
He started backing away while he talked, and Strife was gripped by a moment of
panic when he realized it might really be too late. Until that moment he’d been
able to tell himself it didn’t really matter, that if Cupid didn’t want to pick
up where they left off he could just put it behind him and get on with his
life. It might even be better that way, because then he wouldn’t have to deal
with Herc and Iolaus. At least that’s what he’d been telling himself since Xena
called him and told him that Gabbie found out where he went to school. Now that
he was faced with the reality of Cupid walking away from him he realized it
wouldn’t be that easy to just forget him, but he wasn’t sure anything he said
would make a difference.
“Cupe, wait a second, would ya?” He pushed himself off the side of the van and
moved forward, reaching out and catching Cupid’s wrist. There was no way he was
going to stop Cupid if he really wanted to go, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t
try. “Look, I wasn’t embarrassed by ya. It’s just we made this dumb pact afta
our last bassist ditched us to marry his girlfriend. Nobody gets serious about
anybody ‘til the band takes off.”
“That’s really stupid.”
“Yeah, so I hear.” Strife grinned nervously and glanced down at the hand that
was still holding onto Cupid’s wrist. His thumb was moving in little circles
around the ball of Cupid’s wrist joint, and he was surprised at how much even
that small contact could do to him. “What I’m tryin’ ta say here is that I
don’t care ‘bout the stupid pact anymore. I shouldn’ta let ya leave like that,
and I came down here ta see if ya maybe wanna try this thing again.”
“What, like dating?”
Strife shrugged and pulled his hand away, self-doubt creeping back into the
forefront as he waited for Cupid to make some kind of move. He wasn’t used to
feeling so unsure of himself, but something about Cupid made him feel like the
whole world was tilted and he was just trying to stay on his feet. “Yeah. I
mean if ya want.”
Cupid’s whole face lit up when he smiled, and before Strife could stop himself
he was moving forward. He didn’t even think about what he was doing until
Cupid’s hand flattened against his chest, and his heart dropped into his
stomach as he looked away. “How’d you know where I lived?” Cupid asked,
surprising Strife into looking up again.
“Xena’s friend knows yer friend Psycho.” He frowned at the sound of Cupid’s
laughter, taking an involuntary step backwards. “What?”
“Psyche,” Cupid corrected him when his laughter subsided.
“Whatevah.” Strife grinned back at Cupid, heedless of the fact that they were
still standing in front of the younger boy’s high school. “So does that mean ya
wanna…”
“Yeah.” Cupid’s grin faded a little and he glanced back toward the school. For
a second Strife wondered what he was missing, but when Cupid turned back he was
smiling again. “Do you have to get back right away? My mom’s got group tonight
if you want to come over for awhile.”
“Group?” Strife asked as they turned back toward the van. “She in AA or
somethin'?”
“No, she’s a therapist. Couples therapy, on Tuesday nights she’s got a group
that meets at the hospital. She usually doesn’t get back until after 10:00.”
“Cool.” Strife rounded the van as Cupid pulled open the door on the passenger
side, swallowing a sudden rush of nerves at the thought of actually hanging out
with Cupid at his house. He was the one that had started this whole thing that
first night in the club when he’d kissed Cupid without even introducing himself
first, and he was the one that had showed up outside Cupid’s school asking if
they could go steady. He should probably be embarrassed that he couldn’t just
forget Cupid and move on, but he didn’t have any reason to be nervous. Still,
there it was, a ball of anticipation all wrapped up with the nerves in his
stomach. He just hoped he wouldn’t puke in Cupid’s house and ruin everything.
Cupid gave him directions to a house not far from the school, and a few minutes
later he found himself pulling to a stop in front of a split-level white house
complete with a little picket fence. It looked exactly like the kind of house
he could imagine Cupid growing up in; the only thing that didn’t make sense was
what a kid like Cupid was doing hanging out in punk clubs in the city. He
followed Cupid into a living room decorated in white and different shades of
pink, cringing involuntarily as he imagined what Cupid’s mother would have to
be like to pick out those particular colors.
“Pretty gross, I know,” Cupid said, grinning at Strife’s sheepish expression.
“It was kind of a knee-jerk reaction to my dad leaving, I think. When he lived
here everything was black and gray, then he ditched us and my mom kind of took
out her aggressions on the furniture.”
“Musta been a pretty bad split.”
“Well I’m pretty sure she caught him with another guy and flipped out. So yeah,
it was bad. They get along okay now, but I think it’s mostly for my sake.”
“So yer old man’s what…bi?”
“No, I’m pretty sure it just took him a long time to come out. We don’t really
talk about it much, but he lives with a guy now and he seems pretty happy. I
hope he doesn’t screw this one up, his boyfriend’s really cool.”
Cupid led Strife up a flight of stairs to the second floor, stopping in front
of a door halfway down the hall and standing aside to let Strife brush past him
into the room. It was obvious on first glance that it was Cupid’s bedroom, the
tattered flyers from punk shows and the piles of clothes lying around were a
dead giveaway. The fact that there wasn’t any pink anywhere in the room was
another indication. He crossed to the double bed that took up half the far wall
and sat down, taking in the flyers from bands Cupid had liked enough to hang on
his wall.
“So yer folks are cool with you likin' guys then?”
“I wouldn’t say my mom’s cool with it exactly. My dad’s okay with it,
obviously, and Mom tries to understand, but sometimes I get the feeling it just
reminds her of why her marriage split up. Like she blames herself or
something.” Cupid kicked the door shut before he crossed the room and sank onto
the mattress next to Strife, leaning back to study the other boy’s profile.
“What about your folks? Do they know?”
“My mom’s cool about it mosta tha time,” Strife answered. “Not that she’s got
much ta say about what I do. Dad’s doin’ 20 ta life so we’re not real close.
He’s got a brother that lives in tha city, though, he’s pretty cool. Lives with
some guy, one a these days I’m gonna get over there and see him.”
“Your dad’s in prison?”
“Yeah, been in the joint since I was a kid. Got drunk and killed one a his
drinkin’ buddies. He had a bad temper, least that’s what my mom says. I don’t
remember much about him, to tell ya the truth. He’s got another brother
someplace, I don’t know that one though. They’re triplets, you’d nevah be able
to tell ‘em apart just lookin’ at a picture.”
“Wow, that’s…I mean, don’t you miss him?”
“Who, my old man? I don’t even know him, Cupe. I used ta feel weird about
telling my friends about him, but I got over it. I mean if yer gonna hang
around me yer gonna hear about it eventually. Xena and the guys know all about
it. Xena knows everythin' about me.”
“That girl from the band? So you guys are close?”
Strife grinned at the nervous edge in Cupid’s voice. He wasn’t used to people
being jealous about him, but it was kind of flattering in a weird way. “She’s
my cousin. Known her my whole life.”
“Oh.” A relieved grin lit up Cupid’s features, and Strife found himself leaning
forward unconsciously. He braced himself on the mattress with one hand, the
other hand landing on Cupid’s neck to guide him forward. As soon as their lips
brushed a sense of relief flooded him, and he was almost sure an audible
whimper escaped his throat. Before he had time to worry about whether or not
Cupid heard him he felt a hand flatten against his chest, but instead of
pulling him closer Cupid shoved him backwards. “Wait a second.”
Wait…how the hell was he supposed to wait? It had been three whole days since
he last saw Cupid, and he thought they’d straightened everything out back at
the school. This was supposed to be the making up part, wasn’t it? And that was
the good part, at least he’d heard it was. Not that he was a relationship
expert or anything, but all the married people he knew practically lived for
makeup sex. Cupid didn’t look mad anymore, but Strife wasn’t sure if he was
even reading the kid right. He didn’t know him well enough to tell, and he
wasn’t even sure if it counted as makeup sex when there hadn’t really been a
breakup.
“What’s the problem?”
“You aren’t gonna change your mind again, are you? I mean it’s one thing to be
here when there’s no chance anybody will see us together. But if you’re gonna
freak out every time your friends are around…”
Strife let out a frustrated sigh and fell backwards, stretching out on the
mattress and staring up at the ceiling. He should have seen the question
coming, and it wasn’t like he could promise he’d never freak out again. He knew
what he wanted, but keeping things together with the band and keeping Cupid
happy wasn’t going to be that easy. “They’re gonna be total assholes about
this, just so ya know,” he said, sparing a quick glance at Cupid before he
turned back to the ceiling. “The whole ‘no dating’ thing’s only parta the
problem.”
“So what’s the rest of it? They’re not still mad about the bathroom, are they?”
“Be a lot easier if that was it.” He pushed himself up on his elbows and let
his gaze wander over Cupid’s frame. It was hard to focus with all that golden
skin right there within arm’s reach. It was harder still to have this
conversation when what he really wanted to do was push Cupid down and kiss him
until he forgot what they were talking about, but he had a feeling Cupid
wouldn’t be that easy to distract. “Look, Cupe, fer you and yer friends punk’s
about the clothes and the music, right? Ya probably got yer hands on a Sex
Pistols CD when ya were a kid and wanted ta be just like Johnny Rotten, right?”
“New York Dolls,” Cupid admitted when Strife paused and glanced over at the
younger boy again.
Strife grinned and turned on his side to face Cupid. “Well at least ya got good
taste. Fer me it was Social Distortion. The point is that fer some people it
ain’t just music an’ leather. There’s kids out there that think War Bastards is
the shit, but if they heard I was datin’ a guy they’d be standin’ outside the
club waitin’ ta kick my ass. Some a tha other bands wouldn’t be so cool about
it, either.”
“So your friends expect you to pretend to be straight when you’re on stage? Is
that what you want?”
“Ya really wanna know what I want?”
The tips of Cupid’s ears turned the color of the curtains in his mom’s living
room, and Strife had to resist the urge to ask if it was an all-over blush.
“I’m serious,” Cupid said, but he finally relaxed enough to stretch out on the
bed next to Strife. Definitely an improvement, Strife decided as he inched a
little closer to Cupid and reached out to trace the outline of his jaw.
"I know yer serious, Cupe. It ain't that big a deal, I just keep my sex life
offa the stage. The guys're just freakin' out about ya a little 'cause ya come
ta the shows an' stuff."
"So you want me to stop coming to the shows?"
"No. Jesus, Cupe, that's not what I'm sayin'. Look, you've hooked up with other
guys at the clubs before, right?"
Cupid nodded, his forehead furrowed with confusion that Strife didn't really
want to think was cute, but it was hard to resist anything about Cupid. The
fact was that Cupid was more naïve than he let on, but Strife wasn't about to
change his mind and leave now. He'd already decided as soon as Xena offered to
find out where Cupid lived that he was going to find a way to get him back, so
he just had to find a way to make Cupid understand what he was trying to say.
"And how many of 'em were…y'know, out?"
"I don't know. It's not like we did a lot of talking. I mean I never dated any
of them."
Strife hadn't been expecting that answer, and suddenly he felt like an even
bigger jerk for trying to give Cupid the brush-off after a couple nights
together. "Never? Ya never dated…anybody?"
"Well at school there's only Auto, and he goes out with Psyche. Besides, he's
my friend, and it would just be weird, you know? I guess I never really thought
about it before." He was studying his bedspread like it had the secret of life
written on it, and Strife could tell without asking that he'd managed to
embarrass Cupid on a whole new level. Still, to be somebody's first actual
boyfriend – it was a different kind of first than being his first fuck, but it
was sort of cool. In a really scary way.
"Listen, Cupe, are ya sure ya want me?" Strife laughed nervously when Cupid
looked up and met his gaze, part of him hoping Cupid would take it as a joke
and blow it off. He was only half kidding, though, and even though he didn't
want to he couldn't stop himself from offering Cupid an easy out. "I mean I
never won an award fer bein' a great boyfriend. The band takes up mosta my
time, I'm usually out half the night, ya already found out what an asshole I
can be…"
"Strife," Cupid interrupted, reaching out and pressing his fingers to Strife's
lips. "Would you shut up? I'm positive, okay? All I've been thinking about
since the first time I saw you is the next time I get to see you. Besides, high
school takes up most of my time."
He’d been telling himself for a long time that he wasn’t looking for a
boyfriend, and he definitely wasn’t looking for any declarations of love or any
of that mushy romantic crap that he didn’t know what to do with anyway. For a
long time he’d believed that, but hearing Cupid say he’d been thinking about
Strife since before they even met did things to his stomach that defied
gravity. He was still having a hard time believing that he was really in
Cupid’s bedroom, let alone that what had started out as more or less anonymous
sex was turning into the first real relationship he’d had in ages. It wasn’t
too late to back out, to cut his losses and tell Cupid they were probably
making a mistake. There was no way he could look Cupid in the eye and do it,
though, and he knew damn well he didn’t want to.
He let out a dramatic sigh and fell back on the mattress. “I can’t believe my
boyfriend’s in high school.”
A second later he found himself draped in high school student, a warm, solid
body pressing him into the mattress. Cupid glared down at him from less than
six inches away, a lock of blond hair falling across his forehead. “Is that
gonna be a problem?”
“No problem, I swear,” Strife answered. He wrapped his arms around Cupid’s neck
and pulled him forward the last few inches, leaning up to meet him in a slow
kiss. As far as he was concerned it didn’t matter what Cupid did with his days
as long as Strife was the only one that got to kiss him like this. The only
real problem he could think of was that eventually Cupid’s mom was going to
come home, which meant he’d have to get up and go back to the city a lot sooner
than he wanted to.

                        Part Ten – Let's Talk About Sex
Being draped in Cupid was nice, but being draped in naked Cupid was definitely
better. It had been a challenge getting all their clothes off without letting
Cupid up long enough to lose the feel of the other boy's weight holding him
down, but thanks to Strife's experience with changing for shows in dressing
rooms that were sometimes no bigger than a closet he managed to get them both
out of their clothes without ever leaving the bed.
He knew his ribs were going to be sore from when Cupid had leaned a little too
hard against him and caught him with an elbow, but right now he wasn't
complaining. In fact right now the only thing on his mind was tasting every
inch of Cupid's bare skin. The fact that they could take their time was
unbelievable; he kept expecting to wake up and find himself back in his ratty
apartment alone, or worse, for Cupid's mom to walk in and find her son rolling
around in bed with some questionable-looking guy who was too old for Cupid.
It wasn't like he didn't know how he looked to most people, he'd heard it
enough growing up in Detroit to start thinking it must be true. Back in his
neighborhood most of the kids dressed in ratty jeans and hand-me-downs from
older brothers and sisters or cousins, but they all got called things like
'white trash' and 'juvenile delinquent' at school. It didn't matter that he
didn't set out to cause trouble, the fact that his old man was in prison for
manslaughter meant that everybody expected him to grow up and land himself in
jail too.
So far Cupid hadn't treated him like that, though, in fact the only thing he'd
asked about Strife's father was whether or not he missed him. Of course it was
possible he was just being polite, or maybe he hadn't really thought about it
yet. Maybe once Strife went home and he had some time to think he'd realize he
couldn't tell his folks he was dating the son of a con. He tore his lips away
from Cupid's with a gasp and blinked against the lust-induced haze that was
making it hard for him to remember how to talk. "Cupe, what I said before 'bout
my old man…yer not gonna freak out about it later, are ya?"
"What? No, of course not," Cupid answered distractedly as his mouth moved down
Strife's jaw to his neck. Strife's hands threaded in Cupid's hair, summoning
every ounce of self-control he had to pull Cupid away.
"Ya sure? 'Cause it's happened before. People think they can handle it, then
they start thinkin' 'bout what their friends are gonna say and stuff. He's all
the way back in Michigan, but if yer gonna freak out lemme know now."
Cupid shook his head and rolled off Strife, pulling him onto his side and
wrapping his arms around the smaller boy again. "You're not your father,
Strife. So he made a mistake and he's paying for it, what does that have to do
with you? All I care about is that you want to be with me."
"Yeah?" Strife couldn't have helped the grin that lit up his features if he'd
wanted to, but judging by the way Cupid was looking at him he didn't have to
worry about betraying too much of what he was feeling. He had a feeling he
could blurt out something crazy like 'I love you' and Cupid wouldn't even blink
before he said it right back. Just knowing that was a possibility was a bigger
rush than he'd felt in years. "So ya evah done it in yer own bed before?"
"I'd never done it in a bed at all until that night at your place," Cupid
answered. For a second Strife thought he was joking, but when he didn't laugh
Strife realized he was serious.
"Nevah? You got somethin' against bein' comfortable?"
"No…I mean it was nice, at your place. I never thought it would matter, I
guess, but now I know. But it's not like I've ever brought anybody home, and
usually the guys I meet at the clubs…"
"Geez, Cupe," Strife said, but he wasn't sure if he felt bad for Cupid for not
knowing what it could be like or if he just felt bad for treating him the way
everyone else in his life had. All he knew was that he didn't want to hear any
more about Cupid's anonymous encounters with guys he didn't know who treated
him like he was just a piece of ass. It was one thing to warn Cupid about the
clubs and the way it would be for them if word got out that they were together,
but he'd treated Cupid just as bad as all those other guys. He'd never really
thought of himself as having anything to hide, but for the first time he was
starting to think about what he was doing with his life and he wasn't sure he
liked what he saw. "I was a total asshole to ya, why do ya still want me
around?"
"Same reason you didn't tell me to go to hell when you found out I lied about
my age, I guess." Cupid looked down at Strife's chest, his cheeks flushing a
flattering shade of pink as he flattened his palm against the other boy's skin.
"Call me crazy but I felt like there was something there, you know? I mean
other than just sex."
"Yeah, I think I know what ya mean," Strife said. He grinned when Cupid's gaze
snapped up to meet his, dark eyes wide with surprise and a vulnerability that
scared Strife as much as it flattered him.
"You do?"
Strife didn't answer; instead he leaned forward and captured Cupid's lips with
his, taking advantage of the other boy's surprise to part his lips and deepen
the kiss. He was pretty sure he didn't deserve a second chance with Cupid, but
there was no way he was going to turn it down. He wasn't going to screw it up
this time, either, not if he could help it. He reached up to run the fingers of
one hand through blond hair, tangling their legs together and thrusting against
the solid body pressing into his. Cupid's grip on his back tightened almost
convulsively at the first thrust, the kiss turning more urgent as he tugged
Strife impossibly closer on the bed.
Long, awkward conversation about emotional topics Strife generally tried his
hardest not to discuss had worn down his resolve, and he knew there was no way
either one of them were going to last long. Even if he tried to slow them down
he wasn't sure if he'd be able to, Cupid was rocking almost helplessly against
him and it was all Strife could do to hold on. He reached between them and
closed his hand around Cupid's cock, earning a hiss from the younger boy as he
ran his thumb across the already slick tip.
Cupid jerked in Strife's grip and let out a low groan, tearing his mouth away
from the other boy's to gasp for breath. His hand left Strife's back to reach
between them, pushing Strife's hand out of the way long enough to wrap a wide
palm around both their erections. Strife bit back a moan and covered Cupid's
hand with his own, adding pressure to their strokes as he thrust into Cupid's
grip. He felt himself tense first, burying his face in Cupid's neck to moan
against slick skin as he let go and came. As soon as warm heat hit Cupid's
stomach he followed Strife over the edge, his grip tightening as he tensed and
came with a low moan.
The sound made Strife's heart skip a beat, and he turned his face further into
the younger boy's neck and planted almost frenzied kisses on his skin. Cupid's
grip loosened as the last of his energy drained out of him, and Strife's slowly
softening cock slipped out of the other boy's hand. Even that small loss of
contact seemed like too much, and he snuggled a little closer to Cupid as he
kissed his way down the other boy's neck to his chest.
Cupid's chest heaved as he let Strife push him onto his back, his eyes closed
and his lips parted invitingly as Strife pushed himself up and swung one leg
over Cupid's waist. He took a moment to admire the sight of Cupid stretched out
on the bed under him before he leaned over and pressed another kiss to Cupid's
chest, savoring the flavor of salt on his tongue as he closed his mouth around
a pink nipple. Cupid shuddered underneath him as Strife's teeth grazed the
sensitive spot, a hand landing at the back of his neck to stroke lazily through
dark hair. Strife worked his way to the other side of Cupid's chest, sucking
gently until Cupid was panting again.
When he looked up Cupid's eyes were open and slightly glazed as he watched
Strife exploring every new inch of exposed skin. Cupid was the first guy Strife
had wanted to take his time with since high school, and he had a feeling it was
the first time anybody had ever taken their time with Cupid. That first night
in Strife's bed had been intense in a way he hadn't even realized he missed,
and he was determined to make sure every time they were together was just as
good. He found himself thankful that he'd actually taken Cupid home with him
that night, because even though Iolaus had walked in on them and started what
Strife thought was going to be their first and last fight, he was glad he was
the first person Cupid had ever spent the whole night with.
He knew it should bother him that he cared whether or not he was Cupid's first
anything, but he couldn't make himself worry about it. All he did care about
was that Cupid knew he was exactly where he wanted to be, for however long he
could be there. Slowly he worked his way down Cupid's chest to his stomach,
tasting their mingled flavors on his tongue as he licked the other boy's skin
clean. Cupid's hands were still in his hair, stroking softly as he planted
kisses on every spot he could reach. The hands in his hair tightened almost
imperceptibly as he reached the other boy's cock, his hands on Cupid's solid
thighs as he leaned over to run his tongue down the Cupid's length.
His tongue teased the slit at the tip of Cupid's cock before he closed his
mouth around it, one hand leaving Cupid's thigh to grip the base as he slid his
mouth as far down Cupid's length as he could. Cupid's cock twitched against his
tongue as it slowly began to harden again, and when Strife pulled back to plant
kisses on Cupid's inner thighs he was already half-hard. He grinned and nudged
Cupid's legs further apart, kneeling between them and guiding Cupid's knees up
toward his chest. He found himself wondering about all the things Cupid had
never done before, all the spots on his body that Strife was planning to find
and memorize until he could practically make the other boy come with a well-
placed touch or a kiss to the exact right spot.
He braced one hand against Cupid's bent leg, brushing his other thumb against
the entrance to the other boy's body. Cupid shuddered as Strife slid his thumb
up to Cupid's perineum, applying just enough pressure to surprise a gasp out of
the younger boy as he found his prostate. Cupid's whole body jerked against the
touch, his eyes wide as he stared up at Strife. "What…?"
"Just relax," Strife said, his voice softer than usual as he pulled his hand
away and leaned up for a quick kiss.
Cupid nodded mutely as Strife settled back onto his knees and leaned down,
running his tongue from Cupid's balls to the entrance to his body. A strangled
moan escaped Cupid's throat as Strife used his tongue to slowly work him open,
letting the changes in the blond's breathing and the sounds escaping his throat
let him know what Cupid liked best. His fingers were digging into Cupid's
thighs hard enough to leave bright red marks against golden skin, but Cupid
didn't even notice the force of the older boy's grip. He thrust down to try to
draw more of Strife inside, a frustrated whimper escaping his throat unchecked
when Strife pulled back.
"Strife…Jesus…" Cupid murmured, and Strife was positive he'd never heard
anything as hot as Cupid moaning his name. They were both hard by the time he
scrambled off the bed to dig in the pocket of his jeans for a condom, and when
he found it and settled back between the other boy's legs Cupid reached out and
pulled the condom out of his hand.
Even watching Cupid slide the condom onto his cock did things to Strife he
never would have thought possible, and when Cupid produced a bottle of lotion
out of nowhere and closed his fist around Strife's cock he thought he might
come again and ruin the moment. Somehow he managed to hang onto his last shred
of control, leaning forward to press his lips to Cupid's as he pushed the other
boy back down onto the mattress. Kissing Cupid was quickly becoming his
favorite thing to do; it was better than the rush of a screaming crowd when he
was singing his heart out onstage, and the other kisses he'd shared with other
guys in the past didn't even come close. There was just something about the
rush he felt whenever they were together, the way his heartbeat sped up just a
little when their lips met for the first time.
Getting to kiss Cupid while he buried himself as deep as he could inside the
other boy – well, that was a rush that he knew he'd never be able to top, not
if he spent the rest of his life trying. He was pretty sure Cupid was ruining
him for sex with anyone else in the world, and the funny thing was that he
didn't even care. He tore his mouth away from the other boy's and looked down
at him, pushing blond hair back from Cupid's forehead before he took hold of
his erection and slowly slid inside.
Cupid thrust up to meet him automatically, a soft hiss escaping his throat at
the initial stretch. Strife paused when he was as deep inside Cupid as he could
get, their eyes still locked as the younger boy struggled to catch his breath.
Slowly Strife pulled out again, pausing when just the tip of his cock was still
inside the other boy. His body was screaming at him to slam back into Cupid
hard and fast, over and over until he finally lost it and came deep inside the
other boy. They'd done that already, though, and more than anything he wanted
to make this something Cupid wouldn't forget. He wasn't sure if he could handle
going slow, torturing them both by drawing it out as long as he could. Still,
there was nothing stopping him from trying.
He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Cupid's mouth as he
slowly sank into the other boy again, focusing the brain cells he hadn't
already fried on controlling his urge to thrust as hard and fast as he could.
Cupid's cock was caught between them, his hardness pressed against Strife's
stomach as he slowly thrust in and out of the other boy. With each
frustratingly slow stroke he felt Cupid strain a little more, trying to get
Strife to lose control and speed up by tightening his muscles around Strife's
cock with each thrust. He pressed kisses to every inch of Cupid's face, making
soothing noises low in his throat as he struggled not to give in and end things
too soon.
He planted almost frenzied kisses along Cupid's hairline, stopping just below
his ear to open his mouth against salty skin. Cupid moaned and thrust a little
more wildly against Strife, trying to escape the mixture of pleasure and pain
even as he craned his neck for more. "Strife, please," Cupid whispered, his
hands in Strife's hair to pull the older boy's mouth away from his neck. Their
gazes locked again and Cupid's whole face flushed, his throat moving
convulsively as he swallowed. "Touch me. Please."
Strife nodded shakily and looked away, swallowing hard against a sudden surge
of unfamiliar emotion. When he managed to rein in control of his emotions again
he reached between them and closed his hand around Cupid's cock, stroking
slowly to match his thrusts. His already shaky control got even harder to hold
onto when Cupid's hand closed around his, increasing the pressure and speed of
his strokes. The combination of Cupid's cock thrusting a little more wildly
into his fist with each stroke and Cupid's muscles tightening around him as he
approached his climax was too much, and Strife finally let himself go and
slammed hard into the body underneath him.
A moan escaped Cupid's throat that sounded suspiciously like Strife's name, and
a moment later Cupid thrust up hard and shuddered as he came. The combination
of warm moisture hitting his stomach and fingers and the muscles clamping down
on his cock were too much, and Strife tensed and buried himself as deep inside
Cupid as he could get as he came. He collapsed on the solid chest underneath
him, shuddering through the rest of his orgasm as strong arms wrapped loosely
around his back. Being held after sex wasn't something he'd ever really
expected to look forward to, but here he was and it was…not bad. Kind of nice,
actually, and he could probably stay this way forever if Cupid didn't have any
objections.
The problem was that he was pretty sure Cupid's mother would have objections,
and even though she wouldn't be home for hours she'd be home eventually.
Besides, there were details he couldn't ignore, like the condom that he needed
to dispose of and the fact that they were both a mess. He let out a low groan
and forced himself to get up, pulling carefully out of Cupid and easing his way
out of sleepy, pliable arms. He stumbled into hallway and found the bathroom
they'd passed on their way upstairs, tossing the condom and running the
washcloth he found in the shower under the faucet before he made his way back
to Cupid's room.
He looked a lot younger with his eyes closed, Strife realized as he sank onto
the edge of the mattress next to Cupid. He ran the washcloth carefully over
Cupid's stomach and cock, smiling when it twitched under his touch. He said a
quick prayer of thanks for youth and hormones and wiped himself clean before he
tossed the washcloth in Cupid's laundry and climbed back onto the mattress.
"Ya gonna pass out on me?" he whispered in Cupid's ear, straddling the other
boy's waist again as he pressed his lips to the mark he'd left on his neck. A
muffled 'mmmph' was the only response he got, so he let out a dramatic sigh and
stretched out next to the lifeless form underneath him.
"Can't…move," Cupid murmured as Strife propped himself up on one elbow and ran
his fingers through sweat-dampened blond hair.
"Well at least yer still alive," Strife answered. "Hate ta think I broke ya
already."
Cupid laughed and opened one eye, turning his head just enough to glance over
at Strife. When he took in Strife's affectionate grin he forced his other eye
open and shifted onto his side, reaching up to pull Strife's hand away from his
hair and entwine their fingers. "I wish you could stay."
"Me too, Cupe, but I don't think yer mom would go for it."
"Probably not. Although she is a therapist, she's been known to be unreasonably
cool about some things. She lets me go into the city to hang out at my dad's
whenever, and she didn't totally freak out when I told her I was gay. She did
give me a really embarrassing lecture on safe sex, I still haven't decided if
that was punishment for taking after my dad or just her job talking."
Strife laughed at the image of Cupid squirming his way through a lecture on the
gay version of the birds and the bees from his mom, surrounded by pink
upholstery and blushing the same color as his mom's couch. "Well at least she
told ya somethin'. My mom found out I was gay when she caught me an' this guy I
used to know makin' out in his car, an' all she said was 'don't let the
neighbors catch you doin' that, they're liable ta set the car on fire'."
Cupid frowned and Strife instantly tensed, bracing himself for the pity he knew
was coming. "What? It was good advice, I know a few guys that woulda set it on
fire an' watched it burn."
"That's…really sick," Cupid said after a long pause.
Strife shrugged and stood up, hunting through the pile of clothes on the floor
until he found his jeans. "I guess. Ya got anythin' ta eat? I'm starvin'."
Cupid nodded and let the subject drop, pulling his boxers and jeans back on
before he glanced over at Strife again. When he found the other boy leaning
back on the bed watching him he blushed all over again, a shy smile tugging at
the corners of his mouth as he looked away again. "Come on, I think my mom left
lasagna or something for dinner."
Strife pushed himself off the mattress again and followed Cupid down the
stairs, his gaze wandering over the pictures of Cupid during various stages of
his childhood. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his hands on his hips as
he stared at a picture of Cupid with a tall, dark-haired man. "That yer old
man?"
"Yeah," Cupid answered, his bare chest pressed against Strife's back as he
looked at the picture.
"What's with the outfit?"
"He's a blackbelt in karate. He runs a dojo in the city, and he teaches self-
defense classes at the police station sometimes. That's where he met his
boyfriend, actually. I used to take classes with him when I was younger, that's
from when I got my brown belt."
Strife turned away from the picture to look Cupid up and down with new
interest. "Ya mean ta tell me I been sleepin' with a lethal weapon?"
A surprised laugh escaped Cupid's throat as he shook his head. "I guess,
although I never thought of it that way. Come on, I'm starving."

                     Part Eleven – What About Your Friends
From their first kiss Cupid had been hoping against any kind of reason that
things between him and Strife would turn out to be more than just a passing
attraction. He was still hoping that when he woke up in Strife’s bed, but when
the other boy showed up outside his school and actually asked Cupid to be his
boyfriend…it was terrifying. More than terrifying, he had no idea how to act or
what to do or even what exactly it meant to be somebody’s boyfriend.
Not that he could say any of that to Strife, because he’d already offered
enough embarrassing information about his complete lack of experience in the
dating department. He was still having trouble believing that Strife had
actually showed up at his school and gone home with him to spend the whole
afternoon and most of the evening just hanging out, let alone that Strife had
asked Cupid to come out to the band’s show on Friday night. Okay, so maybe it
wasn’t everybody’s idea of the perfect date, but Cupid didn’t mind. He loved
watching Strife sing, and maybe he could talk Psyche into coming along to keep
him company.
Of course that meant he had to make up with Auto, which he wasn’t really
looking forward to. He had no idea what his friend’s problem was lately, but if
he wanted to stay friends with Cupid he was just going to have to get over it
and deal with the fact that Strife was his boyfriend now.
His boyfriend.
A crazy grin lit up his features as he walked down the hallway toward his
locker, oblivious to the crowd of students around him and the song he was
humming softly under his breath.
“Well, well, somebody had a good time last night.”
The sound of Psyche’s voice just made him smile more brightly, and he glanced
over at his friend in time to catch her smirking at him. “You have no idea,” he
said as they reached his locker. He leaned back against the cool metal and let
out a sigh that anyone else would have labeled as ‘dreamy’. Psyche was kind
enough not to point it out to him, though; in fact she was smiling
affectionately as she watched him replaying the events of the night before in
his mind. “It was amazing, Psyche. He’s so…cool. And I never expected him to be
so nice.”
“So I guess you’re gonna see him again?”
“Friday night,” Cupid answered, glancing down at her long enough to grin
hopefully. “The band’s playing at that new place on 56th. Wanna go?”
Psyche shrugged and glanced down the hall in the direction of her own locker,
and Cupid knew without following her gaze what she was looking at. She was
quiet for a long moment before she turned back to look up at him, smiling
gently as she watched him frown. “Depends. Are you gonna make up with him?”
“I’m not the one that was being an asshole, you know.”
“He was just worried about you, Cupid, you know how he gets. He didn’t mean
anything.”
Cupid rolled his eyes and stole a glance down the hall, just catching Auto’s
eye before the other boy turned away just a little too quickly for it to be a
coincidence. Finally he sighed and turned back to Psyche, trying and failing to
ignore the rush of guilt that hit him whenever she got caught in the middle of
one of his arguments with Auto. “Alright, alright, I’ll talk to him. But he
says one thing about Strife and that’s it.”
She smiled sadly and just for a second Cupid could have sworn he was missing
some major piece of the puzzle, but as soon as the thought formed her
expression shifted and he was left wondering if he’d imagined it.
“You really like this guy, huh?”
“Yeah,” Cupid answered, the dreamy smile returning as he pushed himself off his
locker and opened it. He tossed his books in and grabbed what he’d need for
first period before turning to look at her again. “It was weird at first, you
know? I mean I didn’t think it was going anywhere beyond the usual, but when he
showed up here…I never thought somebody like Strife would want me for a
boyfriend.”
Her eyes got a little wider at the word ‘boyfriend’, but she grinned at him and
looped her arm through his to drag him down the hall. “You don’t give yourself
anywhere near enough credit, Cupe. I think I even know some straight guys that
would go out with you. Seriously, you’re like every gay guy’s wet dream. If you
don’t believe me ask Auto.”
He blushed at the compliment, but he couldn’t quite manage to wipe the grin off
his face when they finally reached Auto. The truth was that Cupid didn’t even
remember anymore what he’d been so mad about in the first place; Auto had been
trying to tell him how to live his life again, but that was nothing new. They
had that argument at least once a month and it was usually forgotten in a day
or two, but Cupid’s fight with Strife had eclipsed pretty much everything else
in his life until yesterday.
Now that he and Strife had more or less figured things out he was feeling a lot
more forgiving, so he met Auto’s wary expression with a slightly toned down
version of the grin he’d flashed at Psyche a few minutes ago. “Look who I
found,” Psyche said, glancing at Cupid long enough to smile encouragingly
before she turned back to Auto. “Cupe’s going into the city tomorrow night to
see War Bastards play. You wanna go check out that new club?”
Cupid watched as Auto looked from him to Psyche and then back again, obviously
struggling not to say what he was thinking. After a long moment he swallowed
and looked over Cupid’s shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest as he spoke.
“They’re still in town? When are they going back to Detroit?”
“They’re not,” Cupid announced. “They moved here. The guys have a place in
Brooklyn, I don’t know where Xena lives.”
“They…live here,” Auto said. He glanced at Psyche but she just shrugged
helplessly and turned back to Cupid. “So you and this guy…”
The wattage of Cupid’s grin faded a little at the mention of his relationship
with Strife. The last thing he felt like doing was listening to a lecture on
relationships from a guy that couldn’t be happy with dating the coolest girl in
school. “Look, Auto, I want you guys to come hang out with me on Friday, but if
you’re gonna be a jerk to my boyfriend then you might as well stay home.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and stuck out his chin defiantly, waiting
for Auto to say something snide about Strife or his band. The insult never
came; in fact Auto didn’t say anything at all. His mouth opened as though he
was going to say something, then it closed again and he looked at Psyche.
Neither of them said anything, but Cupid could tell by the way they were
looking at each other that he was missing something after all. Sometimes he
thought his two best friends could read each other’s minds, or at least they
had some silent language that no one but them understood. It had made him feel
left out on more than one occasion, but until that moment he’d never felt like
whatever they weren’t saying was directly related to him.
“Nobody’s being a jerk,” Psyche finally said, casting one last meaningful
glance at Auto before she pasted a bright smile on her face and turned back to
Cupid. “As long as you’re happy, we’re happy.”
“Yeah, sure,” Auto added when Psyche elbowed him in the ribs.
“You’re happy, right?” Psyche asked, ignoring the sound of Auto clearing his
throat as she stared expectantly at Cupid.
“Are you kidding?” As soon as he thought about Strife Cupid forgot to worry
about what his friends weren’t telling him, his grin returning as he remembered
all the reasons he was happier than he’d ever thought he could be. Strife
wanted him – just him – and he didn’t even care what the other members of the
band had to say about it. Not only had he asked Cupid to come to the show that
weekend, but he’d asked him to spend the weekend in the city. A whole weekend
together – it seemed too good to be true, but he knew he wasn’t dreaming
because he’d already gotten the third degree from his mom about why he suddenly
wanted to spend so much time in the city.
He was pretty sure his dad would cover for him. He hoped so, anyway, because if
he wouldn’t then Cupid was going to have to tell his mother the truth and he
knew exactly what her reaction would be. Which meant he’d be grounded or
something equally humiliating, and for the first time in his life he’d have to
openly defy her to spend time with Strife. The weird thing was that part of him
wanted to tell his mother about Strife; he wanted to tell everyone, but he knew
if he did she’d overreact and the last thing he needed was to argue with her
about whether or not he could go into the city to see his boyfriend. It was one
thing to date a high school senior, but if Strife had to drive to Jersey to see
him every weekend he’d probably get over his attraction to Cupid pretty fast.
“Earth to Cupid.” A slender hand waved back and forth in front of his eyes, and
he blinked and focused on an amused-looking Psyche. “We’ll take that as a yes.
You’re so far gone on this guy it’s not even funny.”
Cupid blushed but didn’t bother trying to deny it. The truth was that he was
completely and thoroughly smitten with Strife, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t
going away any time soon. He’d never felt that way about anyone before, not
even after the first time he had sex and developed a painful crush on a guy he
didn’t really know who never even spoke to him again afterwards. This was so
different than any crush he’d ever had that he couldn’t even find a name for
the way he felt, but he knew he’d never be able to hide it from Auto and
Psyche.
“Sorry,” he said, although his unrepentant grin didn’t do much to convince them
that he really was sorry. “I’ll introduce you guys on Friday. You’ll love him,
he’s totally cool.”
“If you like him that’s good enough for me,” Psyche answered, her amused grin
laced with affection as she shook her head at Cupid. “Now come on or we’re
gonna be late for homeroom.”
Cupid fell into step next to Psyche and launched into an animated description
of what Strife had told him about the new club they were going to. He was so
engrossed in their plans for the weekend that he didn’t notice that Auto wasn’t
even listening to him as he trailed behind his friends. Psyche glanced over her
shoulder at her boyfriend once or twice, but Cupid was too excited to care what
Auto’s problem was. He was pretty sure Auto was just worried that Cupid was
making more out of his relationship with Strife than it really was, but as soon
as his friends met his boyfriend he knew they’d see that what he and Strife had
was real.
~
He was trying. He was trying really, really hard, but no matter what Strife did
he couldn’t get Cupid out of his head long enough to focus on the sound check.
He was sure the rest of the band was ready to kill him, they were all sick of
listening to him stumble over the words to the new song Xena had written and he
couldn’t really blame them. He was pretty sure the crazy grin he had no prayer
of stifling wasn’t helping his cause, but there was nothing he could do about
it.
Cupid was just…there, even though he was an hour and a half away in some
depressing little town in Jersey. It didn’t matter that Strife hadn’t seen him
for two days, because Cupid would be there that night, right in the very club
they were playing. He was going to be in the audience, standing close to the
stage and looking up at Strife with that sexy half-grin he got whenever he was
thinking real hard about something good. With any luck at all he’d be wearing
leather, and after the show Strife would get to take him home and peel it off
him.
And that wasn’t even the best part, because somehow God or whoever was in
charge of this stuff had decided to give Strife a break for the first time in
his life. He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked Cupid to spend the whole weekend
with him, but he’d never expected the answer he got. Somehow, by some miracle
he wouldn’t let himself question in case he jinxed it, Cupid had smiled and
told him ‘sure’. Just like that, like it was no big deal at all. They’d been
sitting at his mom’s kitchen table eating dinner like some kind of weird
version of a happy suburban couple when the question just tumbled out of
Strife’s mouth, and Cupid hadn’t even thought about it before he said yes.
So he was spending the whole weekend with his new boyfriend, and the weird
thing was that it wasn’t even just about sex. Sure, he was looking forward to
that part, but most of the time when he thought about the upcoming weekend he
was thinking about the questions he wanted to ask Cupid. They’d spent a few
hours together at Cupid’s house, and almost the entire time all they’d done was
talk. First in Cupid’s room, then in his kitchen and finally they’d moved to
the den to flip through the cable stations and talk some more. Strife couldn’t
even remember all the things they’d talked about; mostly stories about growing
up, and it turned out they had a lot more in common than Strife had ever
expected them to.
They’d both more or less grown up without a full-time father; granted, Cupid’s
dad was just a train ride away, whereas Strife didn’t even know his father.
Their mothers were as different as night and day, but in a way they still had a
lot of the same problems with them. Then there was the whole messy and awkward
coming out process, although Cupid’s dad and his boyfriend were around to give
him more advice than Strife ever got. He’d asked his uncle a few questions, but
he’d moved to New York by the time Strife was really starting to figure things
out so it wasn’t the same as having him right on the next block.
It felt good to tell Cupid stuff about his life and know that he understood
where Strife was coming from, and even though he wasn’t sure how Cupid
understood he wasn’t about to question it. He was just going to enjoy it for as
long as it lasted, and hope that Herc and Iolaus would come around eventually.
So far they hadn’t said much, but Iolaus had been giving him funny looks ever
since he walked in on Cupid and Strife in the shower, and Herc looked like he
was about three seconds away from losing it and beating the shit out of him for
screwing up the song he was supposed to have learned a week ago.
“Dude,” Herc’s voice jolted Strife out of his reverie, making him lose his
place as the rest of the band stopped playing in the middle of the song.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“What?” Strife asked, letting go of the mic stand as he turned to face
Hercules.
“You just sang the first verse twice. Would you pull your head out of your ass
long enough to get through this song?”
“So he’s having an off day, give the guy a break.”
Strife’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the source of the defense; he’d expect
it from Xena, they were cousins after all and she usually took his side over
Hercules’. He’d never expected to hear Iolaus standing up for him, though, at
least not when it came to a choice between him and Hercules. Evidently Hercules
wasn’t expecting it either, because he turned away from Strife as soon as
Iolaus opened his mouth.
“What the fuck, man? Don’t tell me he’s not pissing you off. He’s fucked up
every single song we’ve done today. We’ve got a show in like six hours, and I’m
not gonna stand here and look like a moron because he can’t remember the words
to the goddamn songs.”
“So we don’t do the new song, what’s the big deal?” Iolaus asked. Strife
couldn’t help grinning as he watched his friends facing off for the first time
he could remember; Iolaus had followed Hercules blindly since they first
started hanging out in junior high, and Strife was starting to think he was
never going to get over his hero worship of his best friend. He knew how fast
things could get ugly where Hercules was concerned, though, so he took a step
forward.
As soon as he moved Xena was next to him, gripping his arm firmly and hauling
him backwards. “Let’s take ten,” she announced in a tone that told them all
that it wasn’t a suggestion. “If we don’t do the new song tonight we don’t do
it. Fighting about it’s not gonna solve anything.”
Hercules kept staring at his best friend for another long moment, and Strife
could tell Iolaus was getting close to backing down. Just when Strife thought
things might get ugly Hercules muttered something under his breath and turned
on his heel, storming off the stage and disappearing through the door that led
to the back of the club. As soon as he was gone Iolaus’ shoulders sagged and he
let out a deep breath. “What the fuck’s his problem?” he said under his breath,
barely loud enough for Strife and Xena to catch.
“Fuck if I know,” Strife answered cheerfully. “Sorry, man. Ya gotta admit,
though, that was pretty fuckin’ cool. Herc looked like his head was gonna
explode.”
Iolaus laughed nervously and stole another glance at the door Hercules had
disappeared through. “Yeah. I haven’t seen him that pissed in a long time.”
“He’ll get over it,” Xena said. “He’s probably just nervous about tonight or
something.”
“Herc nervous? Yer kidding, right?” Strife laughed at the thought, his good
mood refusing to die in spite of their friend’s outburst. “He’s pissed at me,
an’ he can go fuck himself.”
“What’s he pissed at you for? No way,” Xena said, her eyes wide with a mixture
of amusement and indignation when she realized what he meant. “You mean you
found him and you didn’t tell me? I can’t believe you.”
“What? I’m s’posedta call ya and give ya a play by play?”
“Well I don’t need the details, but you could have told me you guys made up. I
mean if it wasn’t for me you’d still be moping around like you lost your best
friend. I guess I should have figured it out from the way you’ve been grinning
like an idiot all day. I thought you were just stoned.”
Strife laughed again as he realized how he must have looked all day if Xena
thought he was high. “Where the fuck would we get the cash ta get stoned? Can’t
a guy just be in a good mood?”
“Not after the way you’ve been dragging around lately.” Xena’s indignant
expression faded into an affectionate grin, and she slung an arm around her
cousin’s shoulders and dragged him off the stage. “Seriously, Strife, I’m happy
for you. Cupid seems like a really nice guy.”
“It’s not like I asked him ta marry me,” Strife grumbled, although he couldn’t
quite stifle the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “He’s just
comin’ ta hear the show.”
He left out the part about Cupid spending the weekend with him, figuring it
would be best to break the news of their status as a couple as slowly as
possible. Not that Xena would care, but he wasn’t sure how Iolaus felt about it
and he already knew how Hercules was going to take it. If he was this pissed
just because Strife drove down to Jersey to see Cupid he was going to freak
when Cupid showed up at the club. Maybe when he saw Cupid in their apartment
again his head really would explode; he’d have to find a new guitarist, but it
would solve a couple other problems.
He shrugged at the thought and told himself it was Hercules’ problem, and if he
didn’t like it that was too bad. They’d known each other since before Strife
even figured out he was gay, and even though Herc had never been exactly
comfortable with it he’d never held it against Strife. So he’d get over it when
he realized Strife wasn’t about to leave the band just because he was dating
Cupid. Their relationship wouldn’t change his life at all, it just meant he’d
have a little less time to hang out and watch Herc and Iolaus try to pick up
women. They wouldn’t miss him anyway, so it should work out fine for everyone.
Hercules was a pretty smart guy – stubborn, sure, but he wasn’t dumb – and he’d
see soon enough that nothing was going to change.

                     Part Twelve – Seven Minutes in Heaven
By the time they actually got to the club Cupid felt like he was about to crawl
right out of his skin, but he was doing his level best to keep his excitement
from showing. He knew he was failing miserably, but it was hard not to bounce
on his heels just to let out a little of the excess energy he didn’t know what
to do with. So far Psyche hadn’t done more than shake her head at him, but Auto
had already let out one or two weary sighs and rolled his eyes more times than
Cupid could count.
That wasn’t going to ruin his mood, though, not when he was only a few minutes
away from seeing Strife again. Of course he’d have to wait awhile until he got
to touch his boyfriend, but seeing him would be enough for now. As soon as
Strife spotted him he’d get that look on his face like he knew a secret and
then he’d smile just for Cupid, and the rest of the world wouldn’t even exist
anymore.
He pushed his way through the crowd inside the door, a grin tugging at the
corners of his mouth as Strife’s voice flooded his ears. They’d missed the
first half of the first set thanks to Auto making them miss the early train,
but that just meant Cupid would get to actually touch Strife sooner. At least
he hoped he’d get a chance to at least say hi and steal a kiss between sets. He
knew the band took a break a couple times a night, but whether or not Cupid
would get close enough to see Strife during their breaks was another story.
A hand closed around his arm, nearly pulling him off balance as it yanked him
back through the crowd. “Cupe,” Auto’s voice sounded in his ear, “Don’t go
ditching us, huh? We’re gonna get some beers.”
Cupid frowned but turned to follow Auto and Psyche with one last mournful
glance in the direction of the stage. He didn’t really see what the point was
of sticking together when they were just going to split up eventually anyway;
he was staying in the city with Strife, and Auto and Psyche had to catch the
last train back to Jersey in a few hours. He’d invited them to the show,
though, and if they wanted to hang out with him while Strife was on stage he
couldn’t really complain.
He waited as patiently as he could while they ordered three beers, only
bouncing a little while he craned his neck to try to catch a glimpse of Strife
over the sea of people in front of the stage. All he could make out was a shock
of unruly black hair, but even that was enough to make his heart skip a beat.
He was so caught up in trying to get a look at Strife that he barely registered
the beer that was thrust into his hand.
“Looks like they’re getting pretty popular.”
“Well you don’t have to sound so surprised,” he said, raising an eyebrow at
Auto. “Strife’s a talented guy.”
“Whatever,” Auto grumbled, but before Cupid could ask him what exactly that was
supposed to mean Psyche stepped between them and grabbed Cupid’s arm.
“Come on, you two. This place is bigger than I thought it was gonna be, maybe
we can intimidate somebody up front into giving up their table.”
Cupid let himself be dragged toward the front of the club, one hand firmly
gripping his drink as Psyche tugged him forcibly through the crush of bodies
surrounding the stage. When he finally found himself at the front of the crowd
he looked up, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of Strife with his
eyes closed, head thrown back as he screamed the last lyrics of a song into the
microphone. He could feel the crowd pressing against him, but he ignored the
press of the crowd as he watched Strife’s head drop and his eyes slowly blink
open.
Part of him expected Strife to look right at him, to somehow sense Cupid’s
presence and turn toward him. In his fantasies Strife would reach down from the
stage and pull him out of the crowd in one of those classic rock star moments,
and they’d cross the stage together to disappear into the back of the club for
awhile. He knew it would never happen, not when they were in a punk club and
Strife had a reputation to worry about. Still, it was a nice thought, and he
could always hope for a day when Strife wouldn’t give a damn what anybody had
to say about who he was sleeping with.
He felt a tug on his arm but he shook it off, his gaze riveted to Strife’s bare
chest as he swung away from Cupid to look at Hercules. The hand on his arm
pulled a little more firmly, and he let out a sigh as he felt a strong chest
press against his shoulder. “Cupe, come on, Psyche scared the hell out of some
girls to get us a table. We’re gonna lose it if you don’t come on.”
“In a minute.”
“Christ, Cupid, you can still see loverboy from the table. Let’s go.”
The exasperation in Auto’s voice was enough to surprise Cupid into looking away
from Strife, his glare landing on Auto’s back as the other boy turned away from
him. With one final glance back at Strife he turned to follow his friend,
thankful he was tall enough to see over most of the crowd as he tried to keep
up with Auto. He had to admit that Auto was right; he still had a pretty good
view of the stage from the table Psyche had found. He wasn’t about to admit it
out loud, of course, but he sank into a chair and set his beer on the table
behind him.
“So what’s the deal with these guys?” Psyche asked, leaning forward so Cupid
could hear her over the music. “They been playing together long?”
“I guess,” Cupid said, turning to shout over his shoulder without actually
looking at her. “Strife and the other two guys are from Detroit, they’ve been
playing together for a few years anyway. Their bassist left the band when he
got married, so they decided to move out to New York because Xena lives here.
She’s Strife’s cousin.” Cupid gestured toward the dark-haired girl onstage,
grinning as he watched her loose hair flying around her shoulders while she
pounded on her bass.
“She’s from here?”
“That’s what Strife said.”
“Huh.”
“What?” Cupid frowned and tore himself away from the band long enough to look
at Psyche.
“Nothing, I’m just surprised we haven’t seen her around at the clubs. She seems
like the type that would stand out.”
Cupid shrugged and turned back to the stage, smiling unconsciously as he
watched Strife scream his way through the chorus of one of the songs Xena wrote
for the band. “I don’t know, I’ll have to ask Strife. She wrote this song, so
she must know what she’s doing.”
“Yeah?” He could hear Psyche’s smile in her voice, but he glanced over his
shoulder and grinned at her anyway.
“You want me to introduce you or something?”
Psyche shrugged noncommittally and picked up her beer, lifting the bottle to
her lips and stealing a glance at Auto. When she finished drinking she set it
back down and grinned. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Cupid followed Psyche’s gaze, but Auto was leaning back in his chair, his arms
crossed over his chest as he ignored their conversation. He looked miserable,
Cupid decided, and although he wasn’t sure why Cupid had a sinking feeling it
had something to do with him. He shook off an uneasy feeling and turned back to
the stage just in time to catch Strife scanning the crowd. As soon as Strife’s
gaze landed on Cupid his whole face lit up, and suddenly Cupid was glad he was
sitting down. He knew he was probably grinning like a fool but he couldn’t make
himself care when Strife grinned back at him. It was just a few seconds before
Strife swung away from him again, but those few moments of eye contact were
enough to make Cupid forget all about Auto’s weird behavior.
He forgot everything; the people surrounding their table, his friends and the
rest of the band. All he could think about was the moment he’d get to touch
Strife again, run his hands through thick hair and press his lips to Strife’s.
He really wanted to open his mouth against the pale skin stretched over
Strife’s neck, leave behind a perfect red mark so the rest of the world would
know that Strife was his. The sudden rush of propriety took him by surprise,
leaving him breathless and dazed. He was so caught up in the thought that
Strife really was his and his alone that he didn’t notice the end of the set
until Strife hopped off the stage and fought his way through the crowd toward
their table.
The hardest thing he’d done so far in his short life was to stop himself from
reaching out and touching Strife when he stopped next to their table. The fact
that he’d been followed by a rapidly growing group of girls wasn’t helping, in
fact all Cupid really wanted to do was wrap his arms around his boyfriend and
make sure everyone in the club knew exactly why Strife was off limits. He
couldn’t do it, though, not without causing a scene that would end in a fight
and most likely the loss of his new relationship. Instead he stood up, inching
as close to the other boy as he could without actually touching him.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Strife echoed, glancing over Cupid’s shoulder at his friends before he
turned his attention back to the blond. “We got a break, ya wanna come
backstage fer awhile?”
Cupid nodded automatically and took a step away from the table, then he
remembered something and leaned forward to whisper in Strife’s ear. When Strife
laughed and nodded Cupid turned back toward his friends and raised an eyebrow
at Psyche. “You guys wanna come backstage? You can meet the band.”
“You sure it’s okay?”
Cupid could hear the hesitation in Psyche’s voice as she glanced over at Auto,
and the nagging sensation that he was missing something came rushing back. He
shook it off and let out an exasperated sigh. “Of course it’s okay. Come on,
they’ve gotta get back onstage eventually.”
He didn’t bother to wait for Auto’s reaction, turning to follow Strife through
the crowd and trusting his friends to keep up. When they finally reached the
back of the stage and stepped through a door into a short hallway they stopped,
letting their eyes adjust to the sudden change in light. Cupid felt a hand
close around his and looked to his left to find Strife grinning at him in the
dim light, tugging on his hand to pull him in the direction of the dressing
room. “C’mon.”
And he would have followed Strife anywhere, as long as he kept on holding
Cupid’s hand. Maybe it was stupid, but he’d never had somebody to just hold his
hand before and he figured it was okay if it took him awhile to get used to the
details that went along with being part of a couple. He’d have to remember to
ask Joxer how long it would take to get used to that weird fluttery feeling in
his stomach whenever he saw Strife, like someone was tickling the inside of his
stomach with a thousand tiny feathers. He could probably get a straight answer
out of his dad on that one too, but somehow it was just easier to pose any
potentially embarrassing questions to someone he wasn’t related to.
While he had a hold of Strife’s hand he figured he might as well make the most
of it, though, so he squeezed the fingers that were entwined with his. That got
him a slight squeeze in response, and by the time Strife led him through a door
into a brightly lit room he was sure he was never going to stop smiling. As
soon as they stepped into the dressing room Strife let go of Cupid’s hand, and
three pairs of eyes turned to look at the small group gathered just inside the
door.
“What the hell is this?”
Cupid was pretty sure the one glaring suspiciously at them was Hercules,
although he hadn’t spent a lot of time worrying about which one of the other
two guys in the band was which. The drummer was looking at them with a mixture
of confusion and uncertainty, and his gaze kept wandering to the guitarist.
Xena at least looked amused by their unexpected appearance.
“Don’t fuckin’ start,” Strife growled at the most angry-looking of the band
members. “Cupe’s friends wanna meet Xena, not you.”
“Me?” Xena said, her blue eyes wide with surprise as she looked past Strife to
Psyche and Auto.
“Yeah, sure,” Strife answered, grinning at his cousin’s obvious shock. “Got
yerself some fans already, cuz.”
Hercules was watching the exchange with the air of someone that had recently
discovered their ship was sinking and there was no land anywhere in sight. He
turned to look over his shoulder at his best friend, but Iolaus just shrugged
and went back to watching the exchange. “Wait a second. We’re not running a
fucking daycare here, Strife. They’re not even old enough to be in the fucking
club.”
“Neither is Strife,” Iolaus reminded him, but as soon as Hercules turned to
look at him again he clamped his mouth shut and looked down at the floor.
“They’re in fucking high school,” Hercules said. “It’s totally different.”
“Dude, what’s the big deal? My girlfriend just wanted to meet your bassist.
Jesus,” Auto muttered. He turned to glare at Cupid, his arms crossed over his
chest as he slouched against the wall. “Nice friends, Cupe.”
“It ain’t his fault Herc’s got a big fuckin’ mouth,” Strife snapped, shifting
his glare from Hercules to Auto.
As soon as he said it Auto pushed himself off the wall, but before he took more
than a step Psyche was in front of him, her hands on his chest to hold him
back. “Don’t, Auto. Seriously, you’re totally outnumbered and I seriously doubt
Cupid would take your side in this one.”
“So I’m the only one that’s got a problem with this?” Hercules asked no one in
particular, glancing around the room at his band mates.
Iolaus and Auto both opened their mouths to answer, but Cupid never heard what
either of them said. The sounds of the quickly escalating argument faded as
soon as Strife’s hand closed around his again, and when he felt a tug on his
arm he turned and followed the other boy without question. Less than thirty
seconds later he found himself inside a dark closet, his back pressing into
what he hoped was a mop.
”Ow.” He laughed nervously and moved to lean against the door, reaching out
blindly in the darkness to pull Strife closer. “Are you sure it’s safe to leave
them alone? Auto and Hercules might kill each other.”
“Nah, they’re just showin’ off,” Strife assured him. Warm hands landed on his
hips, the hazy outline of Strife’s body slowly coming into focus as his eyes
adjusted to the darkness. “Herc’s just pissed ‘cause he didn’t get his way.
Iolaus won’t let ‘im do anythin’ dumb.”
Cupid opened his mouth to point out that Iolaus didn’t look like he could stop
Hercules from doing much of anything, but before he managed to get the words
out he was silenced by a pair of soft lips. As soon as their lips touched he
remembered what they were doing backstage in the first place, and why he’d been
worried about wasting any time at all. Thanks to Hercules and Auto they
probably only had a few minutes before the band had to be back onstage, and he
wasn’t going to waste it arguing with Strife about whether or not Iolaus could
stop Hercules from killing Auto.
He wrapped his arms around Strife’s waist, palms flat against the other boy’s
skin as he parted his lips to deepen the kiss. They’d only been officially
dating for three days, but it had already been way too long since they last saw
each other, at least as far as Cupid was concerned. Judging by the way Strife
was kissing him back he had a feeling he wasn’t the only one that thought 48
hours was too long to go without seeing each other, and he wasn’t sure how he
was going to survive until the end of the school year. It wasn’t that far away,
but when he thought about it in terms of his new relationship it felt like
forever.
As soon as Strife pulled away to breathe Cupid buried his face in the other
boy’s neck, his tongue darting out to taste the salty tang of Strife’s skin. A
shudder rolled through the body against his as Cupid opened his mouth against
Strife’s neck, and Strife’s hands left his hips to stroke his hair.
“Cupe,” Strife gasped, his breathing ragged as he tightened his grip on Cupid’s
hair and forced the other boy to look at him, “I gotta get back.”
“I know,” Cupid said, not bothering to stifle a disappointed sigh. “I’ve just
been thinking about doing that since we got here.”
“I been thinkin’ ‘bout a lotta things since I left yer house, but if I go back
onstage hard everybody in tha club’s gonna know what I been thinkin’.”
Cupid wanted to ask why that was such a bad thing, but he settled for leaning
forward to plant another chaste kiss on the side of Strife’s mouth. “It’s
alright. We’ve got all weekend.”
Strife grinned at the mention of their plans, but his smile faded as he looked
Cupid up and down. “Didn’t ya bring any stuff with ya?”
“I keep some clothes and stuff at my dad’s place. He made me promise I’d come
by this weekend, it was either that or he wouldn’t cover for me with my mom.”
“Yer dad…ya mean ya gotta go hang out over there? When?”
This wasn’t exactly the way Cupid had planned to spring the news on Strife; in
fact he’d been hoping to catch him with his guard down, like maybe right after
incredible, mind-blowing sex. He definitely hadn’t planned to confront Strife
with his father’s stipulations while they were pressed together in a broom
closet in the back of the club. There was no way to take it back now, though,
no matter how much he regretted bringing up his father.
“He kinda wants us to come over for dinner tomorrow. He’s a really good cook,”
Cupid added quickly, hoping that somehow that would soften the blow of having a
boyfriend whose parents were totally overprotective. “If you don’t want to I
can just go over there by myself. He wants to meet you but I can make up
something…”
“Cupe, relax.” Strife’s hand began moving in his hair again, stroking
soothingly as he interrupted the rambling speech. “It’s cool that he’s lookin’
out fer ya. If ya don’t think he’ll freak when he sees me I’ll go.”
“Yeah?” Cupid’s features lit up in a bright grin, his eyes shining even in the
darkness of the closet. “He’ll love you. And his boyfriend’s totally cool.”
“I wouldn’t count on him bein’ crazy ‘bout me. I ain’t exactly what most folks
hope their kids’ll drag home with ‘em.”
For a second Cupid was almost sure he saw a flash of pure misery in Strife’s
eyes, then the other boy blinked and it was gone. He tried to convince himself
that he’d imagined it, that Strife wasn’t the type of guy to worry about what
anyone thought of him. Then again, he was the same guy that had dragged Cupid
into a closet for their first kiss in three days instead of just kissing him
out in the club, so maybe there was more to them more or less sneaking around
than what the band’s fan base would think.
“You’re wrong,” he said before he had time to talk himself out of it. He leaned
forward again and pressed his lips to Strife’s, trying to convey everything he
couldn’t bring himself to say with a kiss. He didn’t even know the words for
some of the things he felt whenever he found himself in Strife’s company, but
he knew if he wasn’t careful that he’d end up blurting out something they’d
both regret.
Long before he was ready to let go again a knock sounded on the door, echoing
in his ears and making him wince and jerk away from the door. “Strife, let’s
go,” Xena shouted through the door. “We were supposed to be back onstage five
minutes ago.”
A heavy sigh escaped the older boy’s throat as he disentangled himself from
Cupid and reached around the other boy to pull the door open. “Yeah, yeah, I’m
comin’,” he muttered. He was halfway across the room when he stopped and turned
back to Cupid, crossing the room again in three long strides to plant a hard
kiss on the younger boy’s lips. Too soon he pulled away, letting out a
frustrated snarl as he turned and walked out of the room without another look
back.
Cupid watched until he disappeared into the darkness of the hallway, a smile
that could only be described as lovestruck plastered on his face. When Strife
was gone he shook his head and let out a soft laugh, clearing his throat before
he looked up to find Auto and Psyche watching him. “Guess we’re gonna have to
find another table,” he said as he walked past his friends into the hallway.

                      Part Thirteen – Green-Eyed Monster
Psyche started to follow Cupid out of the dressing room, but before she reached
the door she felt a hand close around her arm to stop her. She turned and
wrenched her arm out of the grip, her eyes flashing as she met Auto's scowl.
"What the hell was that all about?" Auto hissed, glancing over her shoulder to
make sure Cupid hadn't come back looking for them. "You're supposed to be
helping me convince Cupid that this guy's no good, not making friends with his
band."
"I never agreed to help you convince Cupid of anything," she reminded him. As
soon as she said it his scowl faded, and she felt a twinge of guilt at the
obvious misery marring his dark features. "Come on, Auto, he's in love. Just
leave it alone."
"In love? How can he be in love with that guy? He doesn't even know him."
"Seems to me like he knows what he needs to know," Psyche answered. A soft sigh
escaped her lips as she watched Auto's eyes cloud before he looked away. "Look,
I know it's hard to get used to not having him all to ourselves anymore, but he
was bound to find somebody eventually. We've still got each other, though,
right?"
She knew better than to ask him that question, and the truth was she wasn't
really looking for an answer. She was just trying to make him feel better, and
if he got the gentle hint that Cupid was taken it would be better for him in
the long run. So she should have been prepared for the look he gave her, but no
matter how many times she'd told herself they were growing apart there was no
way she'd ever have been ready for the blank look on his face. It only lasted a
second before he realized what she meant and nodded, but it was long enough to
tell her what she needed to know.
"Yeah, sure, babe," he said, giving her the same grin he used when he was lying
to his parents about something. She'd never expected him to lie to her, or to
think he could get away with it. Maybe he didn't have any real feelings for her
beyond friendship, but she'd always expected him to be up front with her about
their relationship. She blinked rapidly to clear the stinging in her eyes,
telling herself she was not going to cry about something she'd known all along.
He'd called her his girlfriend for almost three years, but she'd always known
it was more or less just for show. Someday he was going to face the fact that
she couldn't give him what he wanted, and maybe if Cupid had fallen for him
instead of Strife he'd finally be ready to take that last step. She wasn't
going to keep helping him pretend anymore, though, especially not when it was
starting to hurt both of them.
She watched him walk out of the room without looking back, her heart sinking as
she realized she didn't even have a choice. Maybe if he'd woken up a little
earlier he might have had a chance, but anyone could see just by looking at
Cupid that it was way too late now. Unless Strife did something to totally
screw up there was no way Cupid was going to change his mind, and Psyche
really, really hoped Strife wouldn't screw up and break his heart. Auto could
bounce back from heartbreak, he could take the disappointment and move on
eventually. She wasn't so sure about Cupid.
A throat cleared behind her and she realized for the first time that she wasn't
alone, turning on her heel only to find herself face to face with Xena. "Oh,
sorry, I thought everybody was gone."
"The only time it's safe to go anywhere near the bathroom is after they're all
back on stage," Xena said, smiling almost apologetically as she gestured in the
direction of a door toward the back of the room. "Look, I've gotta get back out
there, but we didn't really get a chance to talk. Did you…you know, want
something?"
"No, I just…" Psyche trailed off and glanced in the direction of the door,
feeling a little stupid for the first time since she and Auto had started the
game they played with whoever happened to pique their interest. She'd never
really stopped to wonder how it made the third person feel, and she was
grateful that Cupid had been smart enough to say no even after Auto refused to
let it go. The fact that she'd come back here with every intention of
propositioning Xena made her stomach drop suddenly; it wasn't that she wasn't
attracted to the other girl, but for the first time since she and Auto started
sleeping together she felt every bit the slut that half the girls at school
called her when they thought she couldn’t hear them. "I just wanted to tell you
how good you sound out there. It's cool to see a girl playing the bass, doesn’t
happen that often."
Xena nodded, her smile turning almost shy at the compliment. "Thanks. I better
get back out there before Herc blows a gasket or something."
"Yeah, sure," Psyche said. She managed a weak smile and turned to walk ahead of
Xena out of the room, but before she reached the door she thought better of it
and turned back. "You and Strife are cousins, right?"
"Why?"
"I just…he really likes Cupid, doesn't he? I mean he's not just fooling around,
is he?"
Xena's expression softened at the hint of desperation in Psyche's voice, and
she smiled affectionately at the thought of her cousin and his new boyfriend.
"I've never seen him like this over anybody. I mean he grew up in Detroit so we
didn't see much of each other except during the summer, but we talked on the
phone and stuff and this is the first time I've seen him like this. He can't
even remember the words to half our songs."
"Yeah?" Psyche's whole face lit up in a genuine smile, her mood lifting a
little in spite of her own complicated love life. "Thanks, Xena. At least one
of us got what they wanted."
Xena watched her curiously for a long moment, but before Psyche had a chance to
get uncomfortable under the other girl’s heavy gaze she shook her head and
smiled sheepishly. “I better get back. See you around.”
“Yeah, see you.” Psyche nodded as the other girl brushed past her, letting out
a deep breath as she let the last few minutes of her life sink in. She was glad
she hadn’t gone through with her original plan to try to seduce Xena, if for no
other reason than because she didn’t want to risk screwing things up for Cupid.
Things were already messy enough without her and Auto using Strife’s cousin,
and she wasn’t all that sure she wanted to be with Auto anymore anyway. When
she realized she was still standing in the band’s dressing room she shook her
head and turned toward the door, steeling her nerves for the questions she’d
get when she found her friends again.
She found Auto and Cupid back at the same table they'd been sitting at earlier,
but she didn't bother asking how they'd intimidated whoever had taken their
seats into moving. Her brain was too full of questions to even think about it,
really; questions about what she'd been doing all this time with Auto, about
how Cupid fit into all of it and what was going to happen if he found out that
his best friend had a thing for him. He never would find out if she had
anything to say about it, and she was pretty sure Auto wouldn't want him to
know. Auto couldn't even admit it to her, so the chances of him telling Cupid
were pretty slim. Which meant all she had to do was find a way to keep Auto
from interfering in Cupid's love life and they'd all come out friends in the
end.
"I'm getting more beers," Auto announced suddenly, standing up and walking away
without bothering to look at either of them. As soon as he was gone Cupid
leaned toward her, tearing his gaze away from Strife long enough to level a
serious look at her.
"What the fuck is his problem?"
She stifled a sigh and told herself she’d been expecting the question and a lot
worse, and she should just be grateful neither of them had bothered to ask her
where she’d disappeared to. "He doesn't like change, you know how he gets.
You're his best friend, Cupe. It'll just take him awhile to adjust."
"I thought you were his best friend."
Psyche shrugged without quite meeting his gaze. "Maybe I was a long time ago,
before we had sex. I don't know, Cupid, everything changes when you sleep
together. Auto's not the same guy he was when we first met."
"Oh." Cupid frowned at her, but when she didn't offer any more of an
explanation he cleared his throat and nodded toward the stage. "So how'd things
go back there?"
"The musclebound one stormed out pretty much right after you and Strife split,"
she answered, grateful for any opportunity to change the subject. "After that
Auto calmed down a little. That blond guy took off after what's-his-face not
long after."
"No, I mean what happened with Xena?"
"Oh. Nothing. I hardly talked to her."
"I thought you were interested."
Psyche smiled at what she usually thought of as Cupid's 'cute-and-confused'
look. She glanced up at the stage in time to watch Xena flip her long hair back
over her shoulders, noticing for the first time just how blue her eyes were.
"They've got the same eyes," she said half to herself.
"Who?"
“Xena and Strife. Guess I should have guessed they were related." She could see
what Cupid saw in Strife; the eyes were almost startling on both of them, but
coupled with the dark hair and pale skin they were even more striking. They
shared a smile that made them both look like they were up to something, and
Psyche found herself regretting not talking to Xena more while she had the
chance. Finally she let out a sigh and told herself she didn't even have a
reason to think Xena would be interested in a one-night stand with her and
Auto, turning back to Cupid and hoping he wouldn't notice her mood. "I figured
it was a bad idea, seeing as they're cousins and all. I don't want to cause any
problems for you with your guy."
Cupid's bright grin made it worth passing up the chance to get closer to Xena,
and Psyche told herself she'd made the right decision. She and Auto couldn't
keep up their game forever anyway, especially not now that she was sure he had
feelings for Cupid. Besides, she really didn't want to be responsible for
screwing things up for Strife and Cupid, not when she knew how they felt about
each other.
~
Nobody could complain about their second set of the night. They'd gone out
there and played all the songs they were supposed to play, nobody had screwed
anything up and Strife had remembered all the lyrics. The fact that it felt off
was probably just because Strife knew Herc was still seriously pissed at him,
and he was sure the audience didn't even notice. That was the important thing;
as long as the audience had a good time they were doing their job, and they
wouldn't have a furious night club owner on their hands at the end of the night
canceling their gigs for the rest of the weekend.
Part of Strife wouldn't even have minded if they did cancel, because that meant
he and Cupid could spend the whole weekend together uninterrupted. Well, there
was this dinner at Cupid's old man's place, which was bound to be weird and
Strife still wasn't sure why he'd agreed to it so readily. The weirdest thing
was that part of him wanted to go, and he couldn't decide if it was because he
wanted to meet Cupid's family or if he was hoping Cupid's father would take one
look at him and order Cupid never to speak to him again.
The thing was that part of him still thought they were making a colossal
mistake, and that one day Cupid was going to wake up and realize he could do
way better. The part of him that was already totally gone on Cupid wouldn't let
him walk away, though, so in a way he was hoping somebody else would do it for
him. The sooner it happened the less it would hurt, right? Only he had a
feeling that Cupid meant it when he smiled at him like he was the only other
guy in the world. It was crazy and unbelievable and Strife was in serious
danger of losing it just from thinking about it all the time.
When their second set ended he let out a deep breath and started toward the
front of the stage to see Cupid and maybe get a drink, but before he got two
feet away from the microphone stand Hercules was blocking his path.
"We need to talk."
He didn't bother resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he didn't really care
whether or not it would just make Hercules that much angrier. "I got nothin' ta
say, Herc."
"Yeah, well I do. We had a deal, Strife."
"A stupid fuckin' deal," Strife amended, his hands on his hips as he stared
back at his friend. "Fuck, Herc, ya want me ta bail on the guy just 'cause
Iphicles got hitched? It's dumb."
"It is kinda dumb, Herc," Iolaus added. He was standing a few steps behind
Strife, his arms crossed over his chest defensively as he watched his roommates
face off. "I mean if he likes the guy…"
"He barely knows the guy," Hercules said. It was obvious he was getting
exasperated, but Strife wasn't about to back down. They could have it out on
the stage if Hercules wanted, at least that meant they didn't have to fight
about it at their apartment where Cupid would be able to hear them.
"I know Cupe a lot bettah than the chicks yer always bringin' home. An' he's
crashin' with me this weekend, so get used to it."
“Whoa, wait a second," Iolaus said, drawing surprised glances from both his
roommates. "The whole weekend? I mean some guy staying with you overnight is
one thing, but a whole weekend?"
Strife rolled his eyes again, part of him wishing he could think of a way to
get Iolaus to deal with the real reason having guys around the apartment made
him so uncomfortable. He was almost sure he was right about the reason, but so
far he hadn't been able to trick Iolaus into admitting it. If nothing else it
would make Strife's life a whole lot easier to have one of his friends more or
less on his side, although he was pretty sure it would ruin Herc's whole view
of the universe. "Yeah, the whole weekend. We'll stay outta the shower if
that's what yer worried 'bout."
As soon as he brought up Cupid's last visit to their place Iolaus turned a
bright shade of red and looked away, clearing his throat noisily. Before Strife
had a chance to find his friend's discomfort amusing Hercules took another step
forward, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. "Strife, do you know what this
could do to us? I'm not just talking about the band staying together. What if
somebody finds out?"
Strife had used the same argument with Cupid just three days ago, and he'd
meant it when he said it. He knew as well as Hercules that if word got out that
he was gay that they could pretty much kiss their music careers goodbye, at
least as far as the punk scene was concerned. For some reason when Hercules
said it it sounded a lot uglier, though, almost like it was a threat. He felt
sick just knowing that he'd said those same words to Cupid, and that he'd
actually expected to be able to keep their relationship a secret from the
world.
"Ya think I'd forget somethin' like that?" he snapped, anger flashing in his
blue eyes. Hercules took an involuntary step backwards, his fists clenching at
his sides as he backed away.
"I'm just saying…"
"I fuckin' know what yer sayin' and I don't wanna hear it."
"Fine."
"Fine."
He couldn't remember the last time one of their arguments had degenerated into
single syllables, but when Hercules turned and stormed off the stage Strife
knew there was no sense following him. If he did they'd just end up saying
something at least one of them was going to regret, and he didn't really want
the band to break up over something that wasn't even any of Hercules' business.
He turned on his heel, intent on storming off in the opposite direction, but as
soon as he did he remembered that Iolaus was still standing there.
"Don't tell me yer gonna start now."
"No," Iolaus answered automatically. When he looked up again it was with an
obvious effort, and Strife rolled his eyes as he realized his friend was still
blushing.
"Jesus, Iolaus, would ya just come out already? There's nothin' wrong with it."
Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best way to approach the situation, because
Iolaus turned an even deeper shade of red and then his eyes narrowed
dangerously. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
"Sure ya don't. Look, if yer not gonna pick up where Herc left off then wouldya
get the fuck outta my way? I need a fuckin' drink."
He moved forward to walk around Iolaus, but as soon as he started past the
other boy Iolaus reached out and stopped him. As soon as he realized he was
touching Strife he pulled his hand away again, a mixture of fear and what
Strife could only guess was frustration shining in his eyes. “Look, Strife, it
doesn’t matter to me if you…you know, if you’ve got a…a boyfriend. I don’t even
care how old he is. Neither does Herc.”
Strife raised an eyebrow at his last words. “Gimme a break. Herc’s about ta
lose it and it ain’t ‘cause he doesn’t like my hairstyle.”
“I know, but it’s not…” Iolaus paused and let out a frustrated sigh, glancing
over Strife’s shoulder as he watched Hercules climb back onto the stage and
pick up his guitar. He cleared his throat nervously, and when he turned back to
Strife his voice was even softer. “He’s still got this idea in his head that
we’re going somewhere with this thing, you know? Like we’re gonna be the next
Ramones or something. So when he sees you breaking his stupid rule it’s hard
for him to think nothing’s gonna change.”
“I know all this, ‘Laus. What’re ya getting’ at?” Strife cast a longing glance
in the direction of the bar, wishing he’d at least put some water on stage
before they started their show. There was no way he was getting anything to
drink before the last set, and he could forget about stealing another few
minutes alone with Cupid.
“All I’m saying is you should cut him some slack. He’s just worried about the
band. And then you bring those kids backstage and the big one starts giving him
attitude…who was that kid, anyway?”
Strife shook his head dismissively and glanced in the direction of Cupid’s
table. He couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth when
his eyes locked with Cupid’s for a second, then he looked over to find Auto
glaring at the back of Cupid’s head. Something about the way he was looking at
Cupid made Strife wonder what exactly he was missing, and he made a mental note
to ask Cupid what Auto’s story was when they finally got a chance to be alone.
“Dunno. Some friend a Cupe’s. Why?”
Iolaus shrugged when Strife turned back to him, casting a quick glance in
Cupid’s direction before fixing his gaze resolutely on the stage in front of
his feet. “He just seems kinda invested in your boyfriend’s personal life is
all.”
“They’re friends.”
“Look, Strife, I don’t know the guy. For all I know there’s nothing going on.
I’m just saying that your disappearing act with Cupid seemed to piss him off
even more. I thought that knock-out he was with was his girlfriend, but she
sure seemed like she knew what was going on with him and the kid.”
“There’s nothin’ goin’ on with him and Cupe,” Strife said, but he found himself
glancing in the direction of his boyfriend again. Auto and Psyche were pulling
jackets on, and Strife could only assume they were leaving to catch the last
train back to Jersey. He watched as Psyche bent down to kiss Cupid’s cheek,
tensing as he wondered if Auto was going to follow her lead. The other boy
leaned over and said something directly into Cupid’s ear, but Strife couldn’t
tell from Cupid’s reaction if it was ‘see ya later’ or something more
important.
A hand landed on his shoulder and he tore his gaze away from the scene at
Cupid’s table, focusing on Iolaus again. “I’m not saying there’s anything going
on, Strife. All I’m saying is watch your back.”
Strife nodded as he watched Iolaus walk away, his head swimming with a hundred
different questions about what exactly he’d gotten himself into. He really
didn’t know that much about Cupid, but he didn’t think he’d mess around with
one of his friends behind Strife’s back. At least he hoped not, because if
Cupid was that kind of guy then Strife was already falling for somebody he
really didn’t know at all.

                           Part Fourteen – C is for…
At the end of their third set Strife caught Cupid’s eye and nodded in the
direction of the stage door, hoping Cupid would take the hint and meet him
backstage. Almost immediately Cupid grinned and stood up, and Strife had a hard
time staying onstage long enough to finish their last song. As soon as they
were done he headed offstage, thankful that at least they could just leave
their equipment set up for the next night’s show. All he really wanted to do
was get out of the club and get Cupid alone somewhere where they could talk,
which was strange considering talking was usually the last thing on his mind
when he had Cupid all to himself.
It was going to take awhile to get used to the fact that he actually liked just
hanging out with somebody he was sleeping with, but he figured it would be
worth it in the long run. Besides, he didn’t want to do a whole lot of talking,
not for tonight, anyway. All he really wanted to find out was the story behind
Auto’s attitude problem, the rest of the conversation could wait until
tomorrow.
When he got backstage he found Cupid leaning against the wall waiting for him,
a shy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth when he spotted Strife walking
toward him. As soon as Strife stopped in front of him Cupid’s smile faded,
though, and Strife’s heart dropped into his stomach.
“Is everything okay?”
The question took him by surprise, but the hand that reached out to stroke his
cheek did things to his stomach that shouldn’t have been possible from a single
touch. “Yeah, sure, Cupe.”
“It’s just that you looked kinda pissed when you were talking to the guys
onstage. And just now…I don’t know, it looked like you were still kind of mad.
You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“Why would I be mad at ya?”
“Because Auto acted like a complete jerk. I never should have invited him
tonight.”
Strife glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the stage door, half
expecting the rest of the band to be right behind him. He hadn't been able to
get what Iolaus said out of his mind all through their last set, and now that
Cupid was standing in front of him looking miserable his doubt came creeping
right back in. "What's the deal with that guy, anyway?"
Cupid let out a frustrated breath and looked down at Strife's bare chest. "I
don't know, sometimes he gets this idea in his head that he has to protect me,
I guess. Like he thinks I'm gonna get hurt."
Strife opened his mouth to say something along the lines of 'I wouldn't hurt
you', maybe even throw in the word 'never' just for good measure. He stopped
himself just in time, shaking his head to clear the unsettling thought. "Look,
Cupe, if there's somethin' between you and this Auto guy ya gotta tell me now."
"What are you talking about? We're just friends, Strife, I swear. I wouldn't…I
mean I thought you and me…aren't we like…together?"
Cupid's expression alone was enough to make Strife feel like the biggest jerk
to ever walk the earth, but coupled with the stammered question and the blush
rising steadily in the younger boy's cheeks and Strife found himself wishing he
could take back the few hours of his life. "We are, Cupe," he answered quickly.
"It's just somethin' Iolaus said, forget it."
"What'd he say?"
"Nothin'. Look, let's get outta here before Herc shows up again. I can't deal
with another round with him tonight."
"Yeah, sure," Cupid said, pushing himself off the wall and following Strife
into the dressing room. He waited silently while Strife found his shirt and
jacket and pulled them on, falling into step beside the other boy as Strife led
him to the back door of the club. The silence between them felt heavy on the
way back to Strife's apartment, but he wasn't sure what to do about it or even
why things suddenly felt different. Maybe it was the fact that they'd just
cemented the fact that they had an exclusive commitment, but as scary as it was
to actually say it out loud they'd pretty much already decided that back at
Cupid's place.
So maybe the suggestion that he and Auto had something going on was what was
bothering Cupid, which made Strife an even bigger jerk than Hercules for
suggesting it in the first place. He'd known it wasn't true, but even the idea
that it could be would have kept him awake every night until he finally just
broke down and asked. That didn't make him feel any less like he'd just ruined
something, though, and when they finally reached the privacy of his apartment
he swallowed a rush of nerves and turned to face the other boy.
"Look, Cupe, what I said back at the club, just forget it, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Cupid answered automatically. He looked tired suddenly, and
without thinking Strife reached out and took his hand. They made it as far as
his bedroom door before Cupid stopped suddenly, surprising the older boy into
looking up at him again. "It's just…why would Iolaus think something was going
on between me and Auto?"
Strife swallowed a sigh and let go of Cupid's hand, taking off his jacket and
turning to toss it on his dresser so he wouldn't have to look at the other boy.
"I dunno, he said somethin' 'bout Iolaus seemin' too interested in yer love
life. It was while we were in the closet. I mean I wouldn't blame the guy…just
look at ya." Strife's gaze wandered appreciatively up and down Cupid's frame,
taking in the sight of all that muscle wrapped in black leather pants and a tee
shirt that was torn in several places over his chest. "I just like ta know who
the competition is, ya know?"
"No competition," Cupid said as he closed the distance between them and reached
out to rest a tentative hand on Strife's neck. "I mean when I first met him and
Psyche they were…you know…interested. But after I turned them down we became
friends. He's brought it up a couple times but I'm pretty sure he's just joking
around. Anyway he knows I wouldn't…it would be too weird, even if I hadn't met
you. And I'm pretty sure I couldn't do it with a girl anyway."
"Wait a second. Yer sayin'…both of 'em? Like some kinda package deal?"
"Yeah." Cupid blushed and pulled his hand away from Strife's face, suddenly
looking like he wished the floor would open up and swallow him so he wouldn't
have to explain his friends' kinks to his new boyfriend. "That's kinda why
Psyche wanted to meet Xena. She changed her mind, though. She said she didn't
want to screw things up between me and you."
"No kiddin'." Strife shook his head at the thought of his cousin being
propositioned by both of Cupid's friends, a grin tugging at the corners of his
mouth when he pictured her reaction. "Xena never woulda gone fer somethin' like
that anyway. Maybe with yer friend Psyche, but not with tha other one. She's
not into guys. She's been hung up on this one chick fer so long that we're
startin' ta wonder if she's ever gonna get over it. When ya said yer friend
wanted ta meet her I thought maybe it'd take her mind offa Gabbie. She's not
much fer casual, though."
"I'm sorry, Strife, I shouldn’t have asked in the first place."
"Xena's a big girl, she can take care a herself. I'd kinda like ta see her
reaction ta that, ta tell ya the truth."
"So you're not mad at me for bringing my weird friends to the show tonight?"
And God, the kid looked so hopeful that Strife had to stop himself from
wrapping his arms around Cupid and telling him that he could never be mad at
him, not unless Cupid changed his mind one day and decided Strife wasn't good
enough for him after all. Instead he shook his head and took a step forward,
grabbing hold of the other boy's hips and backing him toward the bed. He was
pretty sure after what Cupid had said that Auto did have a thing for him, but
if Cupid wanted to pretend it wasn't there Strife could live with that. Cupid
was spending the night with him, after all, and if that Auto guy had been
trying to get in his pants since they met then chances were it was never gonna
happen.
He took his time getting them both out of their clothes, enjoying the feeling
of Cupid's skin under his hands for the first time in days. Once he had Cupid
out of his tee shirt he pushed him back onto the bed, taking a few moments to
enjoy the sight of the other boy in nothing but leather. He'd hadn't let
himself count on Cupid showing up in tight leather pants, but he was thankful
to whatever deity was responsible for popular fashion.
"Jesus, Cupe," he murmured as he slid off the mattress to kneel in front of the
younger boy, reaching for a foot and tugging Cupid's thick black boot off.
There was something about the sight of him in bare feet, his lips slightly
parted as he watched Strife undress him that made Strife's heart lodge in his
throat. He looked…vulnerable was the first word that popped into Strife's head,
and he didn't even know he knew that word until he saw it reflected in Cupid's
eyes. He never thought the sight of someone looking so needy would turn him on;
he'd always thought of 'needy' as a weakness, something that would let people
know that he didn't really know how to take care of himself after all.
On Cupid it looked, good, though – better than good, it looked perfect on him –
and the fact that Strife was what he needed made him want to Cupid with an
urgency he didn't know was possible. He wasn't sure how long he'd been kneeling
on the floor just looking, but he snapped out of it when Cupid reached for the
button of his pants and began slowly peeling them down his hips. Strife stayed
where he was, his hands twitching at his sides as Cupid stood up and pushed the
leather down until it pooled on the floor at his feet.
He wanted everything at once; he wanted to push Cupid back onto the mattress
and take him hard and fast, to claim him the only way he could think of. He
wanted to mark him so the whole world would know he was taken, so everyone that
Cupid even looked at while they weren't together would know that this was his.
He settled for reaching out with shaking fingers and running his hands over the
fine hairs on Cupid's thighs, smiling at the shiver that rolled through the
other boy as his eyelids fluttered closed. One hand left Cupid's leg to grip
the base of his cock, and as soon as he felt hot velvet twitch against his hand
he knew exactly what he wanted.
Cupid's legs trembled as Strife stroked him slowly, strong hands gripping his
shoulders hard enough to bruise. He leaned forward and ran his tongue along the
other boy's length, his free hand moving to Cupid's hip to hold him up as his
mouth closed around the head of Cupid's cock. A surprised gasp followed by an
incoherent murmur let Strife know how close Cupid was to losing control, so he
tightened his grip on the base of his dick and pulled his mouth away.
At the loss of contact Cupid's eyes snapped open, his mouth open in a silent
protest. Before he found his voice Strife pushed him back onto the bed,
standing up long enough to locate a condom and some lube. When he turned back
to the other boy Cupid was still sitting on the edge of the bed, legs sprawled
in front of him as he watched Strife cross the room. "Fuck, Cupe," Strife said
when he stopped in front of the other boy. "Yer so goddamn beautiful."
He smiled at the blush that crept into Cupid's cheeks, dropping the condom and
lube on the mattress before he pushed the other boy backwards and crawled over
him. "Ya don't even know, do ya?" Strife whispered when their eyes met again.
His mouth hovered just inches away from Cupid's, and he reached out and pushed
a few locks of blond hair away from his forehead. "Yer perfect, Cupe."
Cupid shook his head but didn't answer, and Strife was almost sure he'd pushed
the compliment too far when suddenly he found himself being flipped onto his
back. It was so fast that he didn't even realize Cupid had moved until the
other boy was on top of him, the evidence of his arousal pressing into Strife's
thigh as he stretched out on top of the older boy. "You're the one that's
beautiful, Strife. Your eyes…" Cupid paused long enough to lean forward,
pressing a soft kiss to each of Strife's eyelids before he pulled back again.
"…and your mouth," he added, tracing the curve of the older boy's mouth with
his fingertip. "And your neck." The finger left his mouth to brush the mark
Cupid had left on his neck earlier that night. "I think…"
Before he had a chance to finish the sentence Strife surged up, fusing their
mouths together in a desperate kiss. He wasn't sure if Cupid was going to say
what it sounded like he was about to say, but he wasn't willing to take any
chances. He had no idea what it would do to him to hear those words out loud,
but he knew he wouldn't be able to believe them. Part of him wanted to hear
them more than anything, though, and that was the very reason he couldn't let
Cupid say it out loud.
When he finally released the other boy's mouth Cupid was panting for air, and
Strife let go of him long enough to fumble on the mattress for the condom he'd
dropped. When he found it he tore open the package and pushed at Cupid's hip
until he rolled off Strife a little, then Strife reached out with trembling
fingers and eased the condom onto Cupid's cock. He could tell the other boy
hadn't been expecting that by the way his eyes got wide, and he couldn't help
grinning as he reached for the lube and squeezed some onto his fingers.
"I want ya in me, Cupe. Now," he added, gripping the other boy's cock long
enough to run a slick hand over the condom. Cupid nodded jerkily and let Strife
pull his hand away before he settled between the other boy's legs again,
pushing Strife's knees a little further apart as he lined himself up.
For his second time he was…well, he probably wasn't nervous so much as
overexcited, but even his lack of finesse was charming. Strife wrapped his legs
around Cupid's waist as he reached between them, pushing himself up long enough
to guide the other boy into position. Once he felt the head of Cupid's cock
pressing against his entrance he let out a deep breath and pushed down, biting
his lip to hold back a gasp as he felt himself being stretched.
He forced his eyes open to find Cupid watching him, his expression a mixture of
concern and tension as he struggled not to move before Strife was ready. The
knowledge that Cupid cared enough about him to worry about his comfort made his
heart skip another beat, and he reached down and caught one of Cupid's hands in
his. "Go," he said, his voice rough with his own need. "Hard, I wanna feel it
tomorrow."
Cupid grinned at that, his whole body relaxing as he sank into Strife's tight
heat. When he was buried as deep as he could get he paused long enough to plant
a soft kiss on the other boy's lips. Before Strife had time to argue about the
lack of movement he pulled away again, pulling out almost all the way and then
slamming back into Strife. He wasn't sure if he'd survive the onslaught, but
he'd asked for it and at the moment it felt amazing. Even the slight burn of
the stretch felt good, and every time Cupid's cock brushed his prostate he let
out a surprised yelp that would have embarrassed him if he'd had any prayer at
all of stopping it.
Cupid wasn't laughing at him, though, and the hand that was still entwined with
his squeezed gently with every stroke. Strife felt a hysterical laugh bubbling
up in his chest at the intimacy of the situation; this was the kind of thing
he'd spend most of his teenage years avoiding, and now he couldn't remember
why. He couldn't imagine feeling this comfortable or this close to any of his
ex-boyfriends, though, and somehow it seemed natural to him that he'd found
with Cupid what he'd told himself for so long he didn't want.
Too soon Cupid tensed against him, his whole body shaking with the force of his
orgasm. Strife pulled his hand out of the other boy's to wrap his arms around
Cupid's back, reveling in the feeling of solid warmth pressed against him. For
long moments Cupid lay still with his face pressed into Strife's neck, his
breathing shallow and his body trembling with the aftershocks of his release.
When his breathing finally began to even out he turned his head, blindly
seeking out Strife's mouth with his own. Their lips met in a slow, languid kiss
as Cupid pushed himself up enough to reach between them, closing his fist
around Strife's still painfully hard cock.
Strife groaned against Cupid's mouth and jerked into the other boy's grip, his
hips thrusting up to meet each of Cupid's strokes. Cupid was still buried deep
inside him, and he felt the other boy's cock twitch with each contraction of
his muscles. Before long he was moaning his own release against Cupid's mouth,
warm moisture covering Cupid's hand and both their stomachs when he came. It
felt way too good to have Cupid stretched out on top of him, but Strife knew if
he didn't make him move soon that they were going to have an even bigger mess
on their hands.
"Cupe," he murmured into the other boy's hair, his voice sounding far away and
sated. "Ya gotta get up."
"Don't wanna." Grunted against his neck, and Cupid sounded impossibly younger
than seventeen.
Strife smiled but didn't open his eyes; Cupid felt good on top of him, their
bodies still connected in the most intimate way possible. The last thing he
wanted to do was make him move, and suddenly he couldn't remember why it was so
important.
"Cupe…we gotta…" He frowned as he trailed off, not sure what it was they had to
do exactly.
The cheek that was pressed against his moved, soft lips brushing the side of
his neck and sending a shiver down his spine. Cupid murmured something
incomprehensible against his skin and then went completely still, and Strife
knew it was pointless. He gave one last half-hearted nudge against the solid
weight on top of him before giving up, pressing his lips to the side of Cupid's
face and following the other boy into a deep, dreamless sleep.

                        Part Fifteen – Kissing Cousins
Strife woke up an hour later feeling hot and suffocated and altogether too
sticky to sleep. He shoved at the weight cutting off his air supply, rolling
his eyes when Cupid snorted in his sleep and buried his face a little further
into Strife's neck. "Cupe, get off," Strife muttered, shoving a little harder
against the younger boy's chest.
Cupid muttered something against his neck and rolled away from Strife, slipping
the rest of the way out of him in the process. "Gross," Strife moaned as he
felt something cold and wet hit his thigh. He knew without looking exactly what
it was, he just couldn't believe he'd let Cupid fall asleep without getting up
and taking it off first. The last time he'd been that careless was…never,
actually, because he grew up in a neighborhood where people dropped dead for
all kinds of unnecessary reasons and he wasn't interested in being another
casualty.
People could say a lot of things about him because his father was in prison and
his mother wasn't the greatest role model ever. They could talk about the way
he dressed and who he fucked and even what kind of music he listened to, but
they couldn't accuse him of being stupid. At least not where sex was concerned,
because even when he took risks he always protected himself. Only it was hard
to imagine when he looked down at the mussed blond hair and the long, dark
eyelashes curling against a perfect golden cheek that there could be anything
dangerous about Cupid at all. It was harder still not to want to wake him up
and finish the sentence he hadn't let Cupid finish earlier, because even if he
didn't mean it he knew it would be worth it just to see the look on Cupid's
face.
Chances were if he woke Cupid up and said it now he wouldn't even remember it
in the morning. And didn't the fact that he wanted to say it mean that he meant
it, at least a little? Could you mean something like that just a little, or was
it one of those 'all or nothing' deals? The only person he knew that he could
ask stuff like that was his uncle, and he'd kill Strife if he called at 2:00 am
to ask a bunch of breathless questions about love. Maybe if Strife hadn't kept
putting off going over to his uncle's place to see him he could get away with a
middle-of-the-night phone call that didn't involve either a death in the family
or bail money, but the only time he'd seen Joxer so far was when they met for
lunch at some place near the school his uncle taught at.
He shook his head and forced himself to leave the warmth of the bed for a few
minutes, scratching absently at the itchy mess on his stomach as he wondered
how Cupid could sleep so soundly. Once he'd pulled on a pair of boxers he
stumbled into the bathroom, running the water in the sink to warm it up while
he searched for something he could use to clean himself up. Finally he found a
hand towel that didn't look too gross and held it under the water, making a
mental note to call his uncle as soon as Cupid went home. He had to talk to
somebody about the strange thoughts he'd been having lately, and he knew Joxer
would understand why it had taken him so long to get around to coming over. He
was a musician, after all, he knew what it was like to get caught up in his
art.
Strife smirked at that thought and tossed the hand towel on the floor with most
of the rest of the towels they owned. Once he'd cleaned up and tossed the
condom he headed back to his bedroom, stopping long enough to kick his boxers
off again before he slid between the sheets to stretch out next to Cupid. He
definitely was not snuggling, because that wasn't the kind of thing he did.
Maybe Cupid did it, and Strife tolerated it because he didn't want to hurt the
kid's feelings. So he didn't really mind when Cupid shifted again and slid an
arm around his waist, pulling Strife closer in his sleep. It barely took any
time at all before he was dead to the world again.
~
The second time he woke up was to the sound of the shower running, and he
looked over at the spot where Cupid used to be only to find that he was alone.
He didn't have to guess where Cupid was; it was probably just as well that he'd
decided to take a shower before Strife woke up, just so they wouldn't be
tempted to repeat the last morning Cupid had woken up in his bed. What he
really wanted to know was when exactly he'd gotten used to the idea of waking
up with somebody else, and why he was a little disappointed in the fact that
Cupid wasn't next to him.
Part of him wanted to tell Cupid what they'd done the night before; to get up
out of bed and wait for him to get out of the shower, look him right in the eye
and tell him they had to be more careful. They'd both been with too many other
people in too many places that weren't safe…Cupid's whole sex life consisted of
anonymous encounters in night clubs, and Strife's history wasn't really much
better. He knew he wouldn't be able to look at Cupid and get the words out,
though; for one thing he didn’t want to risk starting another fight, or worse,
making Cupid look as sad and scared as he had last night when he thought Strife
was mad at him. He didn’t really want to have that conversation right before he
met Cupid’s dad, either, but he knew it was going to bother him all day if he
didn’t say anything.
He let out a frustrated sigh when he heard the water shut off, closing his eyes
as he waited for Cupid to come back. When the bedroom door opened he opened his
eyes again, pushing himself up on his elbows to watch Cupid cross the room and
drop his towel on the floor. The sight of all that clean, damp skin woke up
parts of his body he wasn’t ready to deal with, then Cupid climbed onto the
mattress to straddle his hips and he couldn’t remember what it was he’d been
meaning to talk to the other boy about.
“Morning.” The greeting was delivered to the side of his neck, warm lips moving
against his skin and making it hard to focus. A moment later Cupid pulled back
to smile down at him, his hands braced on the mattress on either side of
Strife’s face. “I hope it’s okay that I used the shower. I felt really gross
when I woke up.”
“I can’t believe ya slept as long as ya did,” Strife said, his hands trailing
across the newly scrubbed skin stretched over Cupid’s stomach. “Ya musta been
tired, ya passed out about two seconds after ya came.”
“I did not. I waited until two seconds after you came.” Cupid grinned and
leaned forward again, but Strife turned his head before the other boy could
press their mouths together.
“Lemme at least brush my teeth, Cupe,” he said, but he didn’t feel much like
getting up. He didn’t feel like doing much of anything except taking advantage
of the very naked and willing teenager looming over him, but he still felt kind
of gross himself.
“I don’t care,” Cupid murmured against his neck, sending a shiver down Strife’s
spine as Cupid’s tongue darted out to trace the shell of his ear.
He was tempted to let Cupid have his way; he was pretty sure the other boy
meant it when he said he didn’t care, and it wasn’t like they had anywhere to
be until they had to go to Cupid’s father’s house. “What time does your old man
expect us ta show up?” he asked, his fingers threading through blond hair and
tugging until Cupid looked at him again.
“Whenever. I wouldn’t mind getting something more comfortable to wear, though.
Leather looks cool and all but those pants aren’t exactly what I’m used to
hanging out in.”
Strife grinned at Cupid’s sheepish expression, his hands leaving Cupid’s hips
to massage the hard muscles along his arms. “I kinda like ya in those pants.
Course, I like ya even better like this.”
Cupid’s eyes lit up as he leaned forward again, and it took every ounce of
self-control left in Strife to flatten his hands against the other boy’s chest
and stop him. “Shower, Cupe. Seriously.”
“I just took one.” When Strife didn’t return Cupid’s amused smile he rolled his
eyes and climbed off the other boy, leaving Strife wondering why he’d stopped
him. “Okay, okay, I’m starving anyway.” Right on cue his stomach growled, and
Strife chuckled as he climbed out of bed and found the pair of boxers he’d
dropped on the floor the night before.
”Well yer not gettin' anythin’ ta eat here. Most we’ve got is beer.” He paused
once he’d pulled his boxers on, turning back to the blond still kneeling in the
center of his bed. He shook his head and wrestled his brain back into
submission, giving up on getting his body to follow suit. So it would be a cold
shower, at least until he got some food into the other boy. He could live with
that, it wouldn’t be the first time picturing Cupid just like that had driven
him to extremes. He grinned at the thought and crossed back to the bed,
brushing his lips across Cupid’s cheek before he turned and headed for the
bathroom.
When he got out of the shower his bedroom was empty, so he pulled on the
cleanest, most parent-friendly clothes he could find before he ran his fingers
through his hair and made his way toward the living room. Cupid was sprawled in
one of the chairs at the only table in the apartment, his back to Strife as he
listened to whatever Iolaus was saying. He couldn’t hear his roommate from the
hallway, but as soon as he walked into the kitchen Iolaus looked up and turned
a shade of crimson Strife had never seen before.
His first reaction to the sight of the two of them together was an irrational
burst of jealousy; he knew it was stupid to worry about Iolaus, but there was a
small voice in the back of his head that kept insisting there was more to his
roommate than met the eye. Still, Strife knew him well enough to know he
wouldn’t…and not with Cupid. If anything Iolaus was totally gone on Herc, even
though he’d never admit it. Most of the time Strife just felt sorry for him,
but as he watched his friend blush he was gripped by the sudden urge to pull
him out of his chair and make Iolaus tell him what was going on by whatever
means necessary.
Before he had a chance to act on the urge Cupid turned to look at him, his
smile so genuinely happy that Strife instantly felt like an idiot for being
jealous in the first place. “Cupe…uh…ya ready to go?” he asked, casting another
quick glance at his roommate before he turned his attention back to Cupid.
“Yeah, sure. If we go to my dad’s now he’ll feed us lunch too. Probably
wouldn’t be a bad idea to show up early anyway, if you catch him off guard he’s
usually a little easier to deal with.”
“Yer not doin’ a whole lot ta make me wanna go over there.”
Cupid grinned and stood up, closing the distance between them and wrapping his
arms around Strife’s waist. Either he forgot that Iolaus was watching them or
he just didn’t care, because he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to
Strife’s lips before he pulled away to grin again. “Relax, he tries to pretend
he’s this tough guy but he’s a total pushover.” He let go of the older boy and
looked back at Iolaus again, his smile turning sympathetic. “See ya, Iolaus.”
“Yeah, see you guys later,” Iolaus called after them. Strife couldn’t resist
one last backwards glance at his roommate as he followed Cupid out the front
door, but Iolaus was already frowning down at his hands as though he was trying
to work out some puzzle.
“What was the deal back there?” he asked as soon as he closed the door, hoping
he didn’t sound as defensive as he felt.
“I figured if I waited in your room we wouldn’t get anywhere anytime soon, and
you seemed like you wanted to go,” Cupid answered. A frown marred his handsome
features, and Strife instantly regretted phrasing the question that way.
“Nah, I don’t mean…” He let out a frustrated sigh and glanced back down the
hall, half expecting to find Iolaus watching them walk away. “I meant with
Iolaus. Whatever he was telling ya looked pretty intense.”
“Oh, that.” Cupid laughed nervously without quite meeting Strife’s gaze, his
hands moving at his sides as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.
“It was nothing. He was just sitting there when I got out there, and he looked
kinda worried. Hercules didn’t come home last night, Iolaus said something
about him going home with some girl he knows.”
“Why the hell would he be worried ‘bout Herc an’ some chick?” Strife frowned
suspiciously at his boyfriend, suddenly positive Cupid wasn’t telling him
something. “He hardly ever comes home if he can help it.”
“I think it was more the specific girl Iolaus was worried about. Is he…I mean
it’s none of my business, but are you sure Iolaus is straight?”
“Why? What tha fuck did he say to ya?” He regretted the venom behind his words
as soon as he saw the fear flicker in Cupid’s eyes, and he took a deep breath
and did his best to control the newest bout of jealousy. He wasn’t used to
feeling so possessive of the guys he slept with; he knew it should worry him,
but at the moment all he could think about was what he was going to do to
Iolaus if he’d done something insane like hit on Cupid.
“It wasn’t so much what he said,” Cupid answered. “I just got the feeling that
there was something he wasn’t saying about why he was so bent out of shape over
Hercules. They’re not…”
Strife shook his head when Cupid trailed off, stopping just short of rolling
his eyes at himself when he realized what the other boy meant. Of course he’d
picked up on Iolaus’ crush, anybody that listened to him talk about Hercules
for more than a minute could see it. The fact that Cupid knew the signals
better than Iolaus didn’t hurt either, but that didn’t help Strife feel any
better for jumping to all the wrong conclusions about his friend.
“Sorry, Cupe, I didn’t mean ta lose it. I guess Iolaus is kinda messed up when
it comes to knowin’ what he wants. I keep tellin’ him there’s nothin’ wrong
with it, but he’s in major denial. Him and Herc have been best friends forever,
I think he’s worried ‘bout what Herc’ll say when he figures it out. I mean the
bigtime crush he’s got on Herc doesn’t help.”
He watched as Cupid relaxed again, his easy smile returning and making Strife’s
heart skip a beat. “I figured it was something like that. So he’s never…with a
guy, I mean.”
“Not that I know of. He doesn’t tell me much, but him an’ Herc’re always
together. If he had Herc’d find out, I bet. Nah, I’m guessing he’s confused
‘cause he’s never tried it so he doesn’t know if he really is bi or if it’s
just from hangin’ around me.”
Cupid laughed as they made their way into the subway terminal, shaking his head
at the thought of Iolaus thinking Strife could really rub off on him. “Do
people seriously think it works that way?”
“You’d be amazed what people think, Cupe,” Strife answered. It was hard to
remember not to put his arm around Cupid while they waited for the train, and
he found himself wishing all over again that he’d let the other boy talk him
into staying in bed.
~
“Where’d ya say we are again?”
“The West Village.”
Strife looked around at the trendy cafés and shops lining both sides of the
street, feeling more than a little conspicuous in his worn black jeans and
denim jacket. Then there was his large, leather-clad boyfriend; not that anyone
could tell at first glance that Cupid was his boyfriend, but that didn’t help
him feel any more at home in the Village. He tried to avoid Manhattan as much
as possible for a reason; these people were in a high tax bracket, while Strife
didn’t even have a tax bracket.
“Kinda pricey, isn’t it? Your dad’s boyfriend must be rich.”
“I don’t think so.” Cupid frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then glanced over
at Strife again and smiled. “He’s a teacher, I think he makes more now than he
did when my dad first met him, but he’s not rich. He bought the apartment when
his building went co-op, whoever was on the lease was locked into some
disgustingly low rent so he got a deal. At least that’s what my dad said when
he moved in.”
“So where is this place?”
“500 block of Hudson. We’re almost there.” Cupid smiled again and shook his
head. “You’re not nervous or something, are you?”
“Nah,” Strife answered automatically. He wasn’t that nervous about meeting
Cupid’s father, at least not at the moment. Currently he was too preoccupied
with feeling like he had a neon sign over his head flashing ‘poor person’ to
worry about Cupid’s dad. “Wait a second. West Hudson?”
West Village, West Hudson…they kinda go together.”
Strife ignored Cupid’s amused smirk, his mind racing as he tried to remember
why that sounded familiar to him. When he finally figured it out he frowned and
glanced around him again, wondering how this could possibly be the same West
Hudson. “I think my uncle lives over here someplace.”
“You don’t know?”
“He gave me his address, but I haven’t gotten around ta going ta see him yet.
He can’t live over here, though. He’s a musician, they don’t make this kinda
cash.”
Cupid shrugged and steered him around a set of tables outside one of the cafés.
“Maybe he’s got a roommate.”
“Yeah, he’s got a boyfriend that lives with him, but I didn’t think the guy had
this kinda cash.”
Cupid stopped walking abruptly, reaching out and nearly pulling Strife off his
feet in the process. “Your uncle…the musician…lives in the West Village. With
his boyfriend.”
“Yeah, what…” He trailed off as he realized what Cupid was getting at, a
surprised laugh escaping his throat as he stared back at the other boy. “No
way. That’d be way too weird. There’s gotta be hundreds a guys livin’ together
over here.”
“On the 500 block of West Hudson? What’s his name?”
“Joxer.”
Cupid’s eyes got wide and Strife knew without asking that it wasn’t too much of
a coincidence after all. “No way, Cupe. Yer old man’s really livin’ with my
uncle?”
Cupid nodded helplessly, his eyes still wide with stunned disbelief. “I can’t
believe Joxer never told me about you. I mean I knew he had a nephew, but he
never told me how great you were. Wait a second…this doesn’t mean we’re like
related, does it? I mean we’re not cousins now, are we?”
Strife didn’t bother to check the urge to grin at the offhand compliment,
shaking his head at the panic that flooded Cupid’s face suddenly. “I’m pretty
sure it doesn’t work like that.”
“Good, because that would be kind of gross.” Cupid shivered at the idea, then
his mind shifted gears and a brilliant grin lit up his features. “Oh, man,
Dad’s gonna freak.”
“No offense, Cupe, but yer dad’s startin’ ta sound a little scary.”
“Look at it this way,” Cupid said, slinging his arm around Strife’s shoulders
and guiding him around the corner onto Hudson Street. “Even if he hates you he
can’t say anything without getting in trouble with Joxer.”
“So not makin’ me feel better, Cupe.”
It was hard to resist the urge to shake Cupid’s arm off his shoulders, and he
found himself glancing around nervously every time someone passed them. No one
seemed the least bit phased at the sight of Cupid touching him, though, and by
the time they reached the apartment building he’d managed to relax enough to
enjoy the feeling of the other boy’s arm circling his shoulders. He swallowed a
sigh at the loss of contact when Cupid finally let go long enough to ring the
buzzer, clapping a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing when he heard his
uncle’s voice on the intercom.
Less than two minutes later Cupid was leading him into a bright, comfortable-
looking apartment, and he found himself face to face with a tall, dark man who
looked like he was already intent on not liking Strife at all. “Hey, Dad,”
Cupid said as he shut the door behind them. “Where’s Joxer?”
“I’m right here, Cupid,” Joxer’s voice rang out from the kitchen. A moment
later he appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands on a towel as he grinned at
the group gathered in the living room. “So where’s your…Strife?”
“Hey, Unc.”
“Unc?” Ares echoed, his eyes wide as he glanced over at Joxer for some kind of
explanation.
“Ares, this is my nephew, Strife,” Joxer said. As he spoke his smile faded, and
he frowned at Cupid before turning back to Strife again. “What are you doing
here?”
“You invited us,” Cupid reminded the two men staring at them as though they’d
just sprouted wings. “I know we’re kind of early but I didn’t think you’d
mind.”
“But you’re…wait a second. You’re Cupid’s new boyfriend?”
Strife didn’t have a prayer of stopping the grin that formed when he heard his
uncle call him Cupid’s boyfriend. Somehow hearing Joxer say it made it feel
that much more real, even though he didn’t realize until he heard Joxer say it
that he was still having trouble believing it was really true. He nodded and
glanced over at Cupid, his smile turning affectionate when their eyes met.
“Yeah, small world, huh?” Cupid answered, reaching out to grab Strife’s hand
and tug him around the two men frozen in the center of the living room. “We’re
starving, got anything to eat?”

                       Part Sixteen – All in the Family
“That…was your nephew? With my son,” Ares said slowly, as though saying the
words out loud would somehow help them make sense.
“Apparently,” Joxer answered without looking at Ares. He was still staring
wide-eyed in the direction of the kitchen, his mind reeling as he tried to make
sense of what had just happened.
“How could this have happened?”
"I hope you're not actually expecting an answer to that." Joxer sighed when
Ares turned away from the kitchen to stare at him, shaking his head at the
other man. "How do I know how it happened? It's not like they called me. Strife
hasn't even made time to stop by since he got to town almost a month ago."
"But you've called him. And you met him for lunch that time. He never mentioned
anything?" Ares knew he was reaching, and he could tell by the look on the
other man's face that Joxer was just as clueless as he was. He couldn't stop
the stream of questions, though, not when he was still reeling from the fact
that his son had an actual boyfriend. To find out that it was someone that
he…well, he sort of knew, and that Cupid's new boyfriend was family, in a
way...it was way too much for him to process all at once.
"He never mentioned seeing anybody. As far as I knew he was too busy to have a
love life, all he ever talks about is his band. Come on, Ares, you don't really
think I'd keep something like that from you, do you?"
"No," Ares answered quickly, the barely disguised hurt on Joxer's face snapping
him out of his shock long enough to pull the other man into his arms. "No, of
course not. It's just…surprising."
"You can say that again," Joxer murmured against his shoulder.
Ares chuckled softly and tightened his hold on the other man, running a hand
absently through Joxer's hair. "Talk about weird, though. I mean what are the
chances of my son and your nephew…" He trailed off and let go of Joxer, his
frown returning just as suddenly as it had disappeared. "Wait a second. So it
was your nephew that Cupid was talking about hating so much just a week ago? He
sat right there at our kitchen table and told us how miserable he was, Joxer.
How this kid had treated him like dirt just because Cupid was a few years
younger than him."
He was so focused on the couple in his kitchen that he missed Joxer bristling
at the words 'this kid'. He didn't see the anger that colored the other man's
cheeks, so the sudden, unfamiliar venom in Joxer's words made him flinch. "Just
because Cupid was upset last weekend doesn't mean Strife did anything wrong,
Ares. You don't know the whole story, and anyway Cupid seems to have gotten
over it."
"I didn't mean there's anything wrong with him. But you saw Cupid last weekend.
I mean really, how much do you even know about this kid? You haven't really
seen him in years, there's no telling what happened between then and now." He
knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as he saw Joxer's expression, but he
couldn't take it back. The truth was that he wasn't sure if he wanted to; he
knew Joxer loved Strife, but he really hadn't talked to him much in the past
few years and there was no telling what Strife's intentions were where Cupid
was concerned.
"That was low, Ares," Joxer said, his voice deceptively calm as he crossed his
arms over his chest. "You know perfectly well that I've kept in touch with
Strife. The real problem here is that you don't think anybody's good enough for
your son. Not even a member of my family."
"That's not true." Even as he said it Ares knew it was a lie, but he wasn't
about to admit that to Joxer or anybody else. The fact was that he'd been
completely prepared to hate Cupid's new boyfriend, and to find so many things
wrong about him that eventually even Cupid would see the kid just wasn't good
enough for him. And maybe Ares never really would think anybody was good enough
for his son, but he couldn't help it if he worried. Still, he hadn't been
expecting Cupid to waltz into his apartment with Joxer's nephew trailing behind
him. Joxer's nephew, the son of a convicted killer. The kid that was raised by
a woman Ares had heard enough stories about to give him nightmares.
"I can't believe you," Joxer said when Ares didn't offer any kind of defense.
"I practically raised that kid after his dad got sent up."
"That's my whole point," Ares answered, his brain working overtime as he tried
to think of a way to climb out of the hole he'd managed to dig for himself.
"You two were so close, but he can't even stop by to check in now that he lives
in the same city. Doesn't that tell you something?"
"Yeah, it tells me that he's twenty years old and he's more interested in
hanging out with his friends than his boring old uncle. And it looks like your
son has a lot to do with why he doesn't have much free time these days." Joxer
sighed and took a step forward, reaching up to rest his hand on Ares' shoulder.
"I know this is hard for you, Ares. And maybe it would be a little easier if it
was just some kid neither of us knew so you could hate him without feeling
guilty about it. But sooner or later you're going to have to face the fact that
Cupid's a grown man, and he's going to have to start making his own decisions."
Ares tried not to cringe at that thought; instead he nodded mutely and let his
shoulders sag a little, allowing Joxer to pull him into a tight embrace. "I'm
sorry…you know, for what I said," Ares mumbled into Joxer's hair.
"It's okay, I know you didn't mean it," Joxer answered. He pulled back and
grinned at Ares' miserable expression, then his smile faded and he playfully
smacked the other man's arm. "But you ever say anything bad about my nephew
again and you'll regret it."
~
“Cupe,” Strife said as soon as they made it to the relative safety of the
kitchen, “ya sure this is such a good idea?”
Cupid shrugged and let Strife pull his hand out of the other boy’s, crossing to
the fridge and opening the door to scan its contents. “Too late now. Anyway
they had to find out sooner or later. Once they get over the shock they’ll
probably think it’s funny.”
“Yer dad didn’t look like he felt much like laughin’,” Strife grumbled as he
watched Cupid pull containers out of the fridge.
As soon as he registered the hint of actual fear in Strife’s voice Cupid
straightened up, forgetting his quest for food long enough to smile
reassuringly at his boyfriend. “Strife, seriously, it’s not a big deal. Dad’s
gonna be fine with this.” When Strife didn’t smile back he sighed and closed
the distance between them, reaching up to rest one hand on the other boy’s
cheek. “You’re not really worried about this, are you?”
Strife shrugged unconvincingly and Cupid just barely managed to suppress a
triumphant grin. He knew he shouldn’t be enjoying the fact that Strife was
uncomfortable, but he hadn’t expected his boyfriend to actually want to meet
his father, let alone care whether or not Ares approved of Cupid’s choice for a
boyfriend. The fact that Strife did care…well, it meant something, he was
almost sure of it. And okay, so it was a little weird that Joxer was Strife's
uncle, but part of Cupid kind of liked the idea of them being connected in more
than one way. There was a tiny voice in the back of his head that kept telling
him it would be harder for Strife to break up with him now that they were sort
of part of the same family, but he ignored it as best he could and focused on
the fact that Strife still looked miserable.
"I promise he'll be fine," Cupid said, leaning forward to whisper the words
into the other boy's ear. Strife's hands landed on his chest, fingers closing
around the front of his tee shirt for a second before he stiffened and tried to
push Cupid away.
"Cupe, this is a bad idea," Strife said, turning his head long enough to glance
nervously in the direction of the living room. "They're gonna come lookin' fer
us eventually."
Cupid chuckled against Strife's neck, sending a shiver down the other boy's
spine when his lips brushed warm skin.
"What's so funny?" Strife asked, wincing at the defensive quality of his voice.
"Trust me, I've had to watch them kiss in front of me enough times that they
can't really say anything. Besides, they're going to have to get used to it
sometime, right?"
"Yer so sure yer dad's not gonna come in here ta toss me outta his place any
second now," Strife said, although Cupid's laughter helped him relax just
enough to enjoy the feeling of blond hair brushing his cheek. "He knows
everythin' about me already, Cupe. He knows about my old man, probably about my
mom too if I know Unc. An' that's just the beginnin' of the family stuff. I
don't even know what my other uncle's like."
"Strife." Cupid straightened up, bracing his hands against the counter on
either side of the other boy as he met Strife's gaze. "He lives with Joxer. If
any of that bothered him he wouldn't have spent the past four years with your
uncle, right? He's known all that since the beginning, I bet, and he doesn't
love Joxer any less just because his brothers have problems. So he can't hold
it against you either."
Strife opened his mouth to tell Cupid that logic didn't always work when it
came to parents and new boyfriends, but the sound of raised voices from the
living room stopped him before he got the words out. "Shit. They're fightin'
about us already, I knew this was gonna happen."
"They are not," Cupid said, but he straightened up and let go of Strife. When
he heard his name his shoulders tensed, and he crossed to the entrance to the
kitchen. He reached the door just in time to hear his father say 'that's not
true', but he didn't know what exactly he was denying. When he heard the anger
in Joxer's voice he started forward, but a hand on his arm stopped him before
he got out of the kitchen.
"I don't think that's such a great idea, Cupe," Strife said, his voice low as
he stole a glance at the scene in the living room. "Yer dad's not gonna wanna
listen ta whatever yer gonna say right now."
"He can't talk about you like that," Cupid whispered back, frowning when he
realized he wasn't sure what exactly his father had said. He heard something
about Strife not getting in touch with Joxer often enough, but he didn't really
understand what that had to do with anything.
"He's got a point." Strife looked away from Ares and Joxer long enough to smile
at the confusion marring Cupid's features. "Unc's called me a bunch a times
since I got to town, an' I keep puttin' him off. Mostly I'm busy with the band,
but this neighborhood…it kinda gives me the creeps, ta be honest."
"The Village gives you the creeps?"
Strife scowled at Cupid's amused grin, looking down at the other boy's chest so
he wouldn't have to meet his gaze. "It's all the rich people, they're always
lookin' at me like I'm thinkin' a rippin' somethin' off."
Cupid chuckled softly and leaned forward, planting a chaste kiss on the corner
of Strife's mouth. "They look at everybody that way. To tell you the truth I
like the neighborhood my dad used to live in a lot better, but at least when he
moved in here there was someplace for me to sleep."
Strife grinned and opened his mouth to answer, but before he got the words out
Cupid gestured toward the scene in the living room. "Look. I told you they'd be
okay with it."
He followed Cupid's gaze in time to watch Joxer grin and pull Ares forward. It
was weird to see his uncle and Cupid's dad…but he wasn't going there, because
if he started thinking about them together he'd probably never be able to look
either of them in the eye again.
"They're kinda cute together, aren't they?"
Strife nodded and tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh when Joxer pulled away
and smacked Ares. It wasn't so much the fact that Ares was so much bigger than
Joxer as it was that his uncle was actually sticking up for him, which was kind
of cool in a really unexpected way. He wasn't really used to people sticking up
for him, and he couldn't help being a little surprised that his uncle would
take his side over his own boyfriend's. If there were sides, he still wasn't
sure how Cupid's dad was going to react to their relationship.
At the sound of Strife's laugh Ares and Joxer both looked up, Joxer smiling and
Ares attempting not to scowl when they saw how close the two boys were
standing. Ares and Strife cleared their throats simultaneously, both of them
looking away. "I'll see what we've got for lunch," Ares announced a little too
loudly, giving Strife just enough time to jump out of the way before he brushed
past the boys into the kitchen.
"I'm gonna go change," Cupid said, stifling a laugh at the shell-shocked
expression on Strife's face. He resisted the urge to grab the other boy's hand
and pull him down the hall into the sunroom Joxer had converted into a bedroom
for him. He knew Strife would put up a fight considering where they were, and
he was pretty sure his father wouldn't appreciate it either. Still, it was a
tempting thought, if for no other reason than to convince Strife however he
could that everything was going to be fine.
He changed into an old pair of jeans and Neptune High Track tee shirt as
quickly as he could, sliding into an old pair of sneakers before he made his
way back to the kitchen. When he got there his father was making enough food to
feed them all for at least a week; he already had sandwiches stacked three high
on a plate and he was working on what looked like some kind of pasta salad.
"Geez, Dad, there are only four of us," he said, grinning when the older man
turned to glower at him.
"Well one of us looks like he hasn't eaten in weeks. He's too skinny, what's he
been living on?" Ares asked, raising an eyebrow when Cupid's smile faded.
"He's not too skinny," Cupid protested half-heartedly. He knew it was true;
Strife was all bones and angles, and Cupid had wondered more than once if he
got enough to eat. He wasn't about to admit that his father was right about
anything, though, especially not when Ares hadn't even said what he thought of
Strife yet. "You're gonna be nice, aren't you?"
"When am I not nice? I'd like to know where you got those pants you were
wearing when you came in, though." Ares smirked when Cupid winced, abandoning
his pasta salad to lean against the counter and cross his arms over his chest.
"Hoping I wouldn't notice? I can't imagine your mother bought those for you."
"Psyche did. She used her mom's credit card to give me a makeover. Her parents
haven't noticed yet."
Ares shook his head at Cupid's grin. "You know just because your friends act
like delinquents doesn't mean you have to."
"Psyche's not a delinquent, Dad. It's not her fault her parents don't care what
she does. Besides, they've got so much money they'll never miss it."
"That doesn't make it right, Cupid." Ares turned back to his salad, clearing
his throat before he continued. "So things with this…Strife. They're going
better?"
"I told you, it was all a big misunderstanding," Cupid answered, reaching
around his father for a handful of the pretzels Ares had poured into a bowl
before he pulled himself up onto the counter. "Everything's great now. Perfect.
Well, except for Auto and Strife's friend Hercules, but they'll get over it."
"Why does Autolycus have a problem with who you're dating?"
Cupid shrugged and swallowed the pretzel he'd been chewing before he answered.
"Beats me. Strife thinks he's got a thing for me, but that's crazy. He's
probably just pissed because now it's just him and Psyche again."
"I thought Psyche was his girlfriend."
"It's complicated," Cupid answered cheerfully, grinning when his father glanced
over his shoulder long enough to raise an eyebrow at him. "Anyway Strife's
great. Where is he, anyway?"
"I think Joxer's talking to him about some family stuff in the bedroom. I'm not
really sure," Ares answered, his gaze shifting to the door that led to the rest
of the apartment. "Has he told you much about his family?"
"He told me about his dad, if that's what you mean." Cupid rolled his eyes when
Ares looked over at him. "What, you thought he'd lie about it? It doesn't
matter, Dad. I mean I've known about Joxer's brother forever, it just turns out
his brother and Strife's dad are the same guy."
"Which reminds me," Ares said as he picked up the bowl of pasta salad and set
it on the kitchen table, "how long have you known that he's Joxer's nephew?"
"About half an hour. We didn't figure it out until we were on our way over
here." Cupid's grin returned as he took in his father's skeptical expression.
"I swear, we didn't know. I mean I knew he had an uncle in the city but he
never said Joxer's name."
Ares sighed and sank into the chair next to Cupid, reaching out to lay a strong
hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Have you told your mother about any of
this yet?"
"No," Cupid admitted, flushing slightly as he met his father's gaze. "She'll be
okay once she gets used to it. I mean at least Strife's got being Joxer's
nephew on his side. I think Mom likes Joxer better than she likes you."
A mirthless chuckle escaped Ares' throat as he pulled his hand away from
Cupid's shoulder. "Your mother likes everyone better than she likes me." The
sound of the piano filtered in from the living room as he finished speaking,
and he rolled his eyes and stood up again. "Do me a favor and go tell those two
that lunch is ready. Otherwise we'll never pry Joxer away from his precious
piano."
Cupid grinned and stood up, shaking his head at his father's back as he headed
for the living room. Ares was right about one thing, Aphrodite even liked Auto
and Psyche a little more than she liked Ares most of the time. He was pretty
sure she'd like Strife even if he wasn't Joxer's nephew, though, just as soon
as he broke the news to her that he was seeing someone he met in New York.

                         Part Seventeen – Making Plans
When Cupid reached the living room his jaw dropped momentarily, then his
features relaxed into a smile and he forgot all about lunch. He moved through
the room as quietly as possible, sinking onto the arm of the couch closest to
the piano as he listened to the music. He’d expected to find Joxer sitting at
the piano, but to see Strife…and he could play, maybe as well as Joxer himself.
Not that Cupid knew a lot about music, but he’d heard Joxer play enough times
over the years to know Strife was good.
It wasn’t the kind of music he’d ever expected to hear Strife play – some
complicated jazz piece that Cupid didn’t recognize but he really, really liked
– but it didn’t really surprise him that Strife could play that well. It was
obvious from the pride shining in Joxer’s eyes that he’d taught his nephew how
to play, and Cupid got the feeling he’d stumbled onto a test of some sort. When
Strife finished the piece Cupid cleared his throat, startling the two dark-
haired men into looking up.
“Sorry,” he said, meeting Joxer's smile with a sheepish grin. “Lunch is ready.”
“Thanks, Cupid.” Joxer glanced down at Strife and patted his shoulder
affectionately. “That was beautiful, Strife. I’m glad to hear you’ve kept with
it.”
He smiled one more time at Cupid and headed toward the kitchen, leaving the two
younger men alone. Cupid was still grinning, but as Strife’s gaze wandered over
him he began to feel a little self-conscious. “What?” he asked, glancing down
to make sure he didn’t have any holes in inconvenient places or anything.
“Jesus, Cupe,” Strife murmured, his eyes wide as he met the other boy’s gaze
again, “ya just…ya look so much younger like that.”
“Oh.” Cupid shifted on the couch, his smile returning as he watched Strife’s
eyes turn a darker shade of blue. “It’s the eyeliner. I washed my face. Psyche
says the eyeliner makes me look a lot older.”
“She’s right.” Strife pushed himself off the piano bench and closed the
distance between them, reaching out to run the pad of his thumb across Cupid’s
cheekbone. “I think I like ya like this, though.”
Cupid grinned and took hold of Strife's hips, nodding in the direction of the
piano as he pulled the other boy forward. “I didn’t know you played."
“Since I was eight.” Strife glanced over Cupid’s shoulder to make sure no one
was looking for them yet before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the
other boy’s. Cupid tightened his grip instinctively, holding Strife against him
as though he was afraid the older boy might pull away before he was ready. He
knew it was a bad idea to do this in his dad’s living room, but they hadn’t
really gotten a chance to be alone all day and he was surprised to realize how
much he missed it.
Strife’s hand left his face to land on his chest, fingers closing around the
front of his tee shirt to tug him forward. He could feel the warmth of the
other boy’s skin through the thin fabric of their shirts, and he could almost
imagine that he could hear Strife’s heart beating in tandem with his. He was
well on his way to forgetting all about the fact that his father was less than
twenty feet away and bound to come looking for him when Strife laughed, the
sound muffled against his mouth. He pulled away reluctantly, a small sigh
escaping his lips as Strife straightened up and let go of his shirt.
“What’s so funny?”
“Sorry,” Strife murmured, although the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth
made him look anything but apologetic. “Ya spend a lot a time here?”
“I guess. It’s harder during track season, but I come up whenever I can. Why?”
Strife tried unsuccessfully to swallow another giggle, gesturing vaguely in the
direction of the fireplace. “Cupe, there’s a picture a me on the mantle.”
“Oh God.” Cupid knew exactly what picture Strife was talking about, but if the
other boy hadn’t pointed it out he might never have made the association
between his Strife and the kid in that picture. He’d looked at it often enough,
but that picture…it looked nothing like the Strife he knew. He stood up and
walked over to the mantle, picking up the framed photo in question. The image
showed a much younger Strife sitting at a piano, his face turned toward the
piano so Cupid couldn't see his eyes. “This doesn’t look anything like you. I
mean I’ve seen it a thousand times and I knew it was Joxer’s nephew, but…God,
you look so young.”
Strife shrugged and stopped next to Cupid, peering over his shoulder at the
picture. “It’s the hair. Didn’t start growin’ it out ‘til I was fifteen,” he
said, reaching up to run a hand through the shock of dark hair. “No blue back
then, either.”
Cupid glanced up at him long enough to grin, then he shook his head and set the
picture back on the mantle again. “Doesn’t Joxer have any more recent pictures
of you?”
“Doubt it. It’s not like Ma’s real big on family portraits, ya know? Unc musta
taken that one at his place, back when he was still givin’ me piano lessons. A
coupla years later he moved out here an’ that was it.”
“What about school pictures? Or graduation?”
Strife’s features twisted into a bemused smile that let Cupid know he’d somehow
asked a really stupid question. “I didn’t go ta graduation, Cupe. Come on, I’m
starvin’ and yer dad’s gonna come out here any second and drag ya back in the
kitchen where he can keep an eye on ya.”
“He’s not that bad,” Cupid lied. He knew damn well that the only reason Ares
hadn’t come looking for him yet was because Joxer had found a way to keep him
in the kitchen, but not even Joxer could distract him forever. He let Strife
push him gently in the direction of the kitchen, but his mind wasn’t on food
anymore. All he could think about was the whole wall of pictures his mom kept
of him, and it was hard not to wonder what Strife’s house looked like. He’d
always been a little embarrassed by the way his parents fussed over him, but he
couldn’t imagine them not wanting pictures of him. And he could forget skipping
graduation, they’d never let him get away with that.
When they reached the kitchen Ares and Joxer looked up in unison; Joxer smiled
as soon as he saw them, but it was obvious from the way they’d been bent
together over the table that they were talking about something serious. Cupid
frowned and glanced over at Strife, but the other boy appeared to be oblivious.
He was standing a little behind Cupid, eyeing Ares nervously. Cupid bit back
the urge to laugh and pushed him into the chair closest to Joxer, settling
between Strife and his father before he turned to Ares and fixed him with a
warning look.
The older man raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything, clearing his throat
instead before he turned his attention to Strife. “So Joxer tells me that was
you playing just now.”
Cupid held his breath while he waited for Strife to answer, part of him
expecting a ‘yes, sir’ or something that would sound just as insincere coming
from Strife. Instead Strife glanced over at his uncle before turning back to
Ares and nodding. “Unc taught me. Used ta make me practice every day, guess it
got ta be a habit.”
“You have a piano at your place?”
“Nah, not here,” Strife answered. “We had one back in Detroit but I couldn’t
exactly fit it in the van with all tha other equipment. Haven’t played since I
got here. Not ‘til today anyway.”
Cupid stifled a grin as he felt Strife’s leg shaking against his under the
table, stealing another glance at his father as he wondered why anybody would
be afraid of Ares. Sure, he was big and he had a way of looking even more
imposing than he really was, and over the years he’d perfected the art of
glowering. But underneath all that he was pretty much a pushover, at least
compared to Cupid’s mom. He had a feeling it would be a bad idea to point that
out to Strife before he got around to introducing him to Aphrodite, though.
What he really wanted to do was reach over and pull Strife close, whisper
something to him about relaxing and kiss him until he forgot why he was
nervous. He settled for pressing his leg more firmly against the other boy’s,
succeeding in stilling Strife’s leg enough to keep him from drawing attention
to his nervousness.
“Well you can always come over and play here,” Ares said, drawing surprised
glances from everyone at the table. He kept his attention squarely on Strife,
ignoring his son and Joxer as they both stared at him. “I know Joxer would love
to see more of you.”
Okay, so it was a little bit of a guilt trip, but Cupid was willing to overlook
it in favor of focusing on the fact that his father was actually trying. He
didn’t even care if it was for his sake or because of Joxer, all he really
cared about was the fact that Strife looked genuinely pleased. Shocked, and
maybe just a little terrified, but he definitely looked happy. He was starting
to wonder if anyone had ever been nice to Strife besides Joxer; judging from
his friends Cupid wasn’t very optimistic, but Strife was a nice guy underneath
the image so he must have learned it from somewhere.
“That’s a great idea,” Joxer chimed in. “You’ve got natural talent, Strife,
it’d be a shame to let that go to waste.”
“Thanks,” Strife said, stealing a quick glance at Cupid before he turned back
to his uncle. “I been pretty busy with the band an’ all, but it’d be kinda cool
to play every once in awhile.”
“How’s the band doing?” Joxer asked. Cupid could tell he was trying to be
encouraging, but he was wearing that same expression he’d had the day Cupid
tried to enlist his help in talking Ares into letting him get his tongue
pierced. In the end he’d convinced Cupid that the best idea was to wait until
he was eighteen, then if he still wanted a tongue ring he wouldn’t need
anyone’s permission. He had a feeling Joxer felt about Strife’s band pretty
much the same way he’d felt about body piercing, but he was doing a good job of
not showing it.
“They’re amazing,” Cupid answered before Strife got a chance. He flashed a
broad grin at Strife before he turned back to the two older men, hoping his
boyfriend would still be speaking to him after he finished his sentence. “In
fact you guys should come see them play tonight."
~
“Hey, Auto?”
Auto let out a weary sigh and lifted his head long enough to glance in the
direction of Psyche’s voice. “What?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You just did.”
“What?”
Another sigh escaped his throat, this one more frustrated than tired. They’d
been sitting in silence for almost an hour, and he’d forgotten why he’d gone
over to Psyche’s house in the first place. It was habit more than anything, and
normally he didn’t mind just hanging around her house doing nothing. It sure as
hell beat hanging out in his tiny bedroom listening to his father drinking or
snoring in the living room, and Psyche’s parents were hardly ever around. Even
when they were home they pretty much ignored the fact that they had a kid at
all, so Psyche and Auto usually had the place to themselves.
Until this year, when Cupid started hanging out with them more often than not.
Of course Auto had never been able to convince Cupid to sleep with them, but
somehow when he was around it was still more interesting to just do nothing.
Maybe it was all the time Auto spent staring at Cupid that made a difference,
or maybe it was the fact that he and Psyche had just known each other too long
to be interesting anymore.
“Are you gonna ask me or not?” he finally said, pushing himself into a sitting
position on the leather couch.
Psyche was already sitting up, her arms tucked under her chin as she leaned on
the arm of an overstuffed chair. He wasn’t sure how long she’d been watching
him, but judging from her expression he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like
the question.
“What’s the deal with you and Cupid?”
He'd been expecting her to ask him that question since the night before at the
club, but when she didn't ask him on the train home he'd hoped maybe she was
going to let it go. There was no way she'd missed the way he reacted to seeing
Cupid and what's-his-name, but he had no idea how to explain it to her when he
didn't even know why it bothered him so much. "What do you mean? There's no
'deal' with me and Cupid."
"Auto, come on. I saw you last night. Ever since he met this guy you've been
acting weird. Why does it bother you so much that he has a boyfriend?"
He could tell by the look on her face that she thought she already knew the
answer, and part of him was tempted to ask her to tell him her theory.
Sometimes it seemed like she knew what he was thinking anyway, so maybe she did
know what was going on. The only problem was that he wasn't sure he wanted to
hear her say it out loud. "I don't know," he answered, figuring the truth was
probably a better approach than acting like he didn't know what she was talking
about. "I mean he's always around, you know? And now he's always with that guy,
what's-his-face. It's just weird."
"Strife."
"Huh?"
"That's his name," she said, rolling her eyes when he glanced over at her
again. "It is kinda weird when he's not here, but it was bound to happen. He's
totally the romantic type, he was going to fall in love eventually."
"I still say there's no way he can be in love with that guy." He hoped it
hadn't sounded as much like pouting to her as it had to him, but he was sick of
thinking about Cupid's love life and he didn't have the energy to hide his
feelings from her. "How do you fall for somebody you've known for like two
minutes?"
Psyche laughed softly, but when he looked up at her he caught a glimpse of the
sympathy she was trying not to show. "It's been almost a month since they met.
Anyway, I don't think time has anything to do with it. Look at Sid and Nancy."
"Dead."
Okay, Romeo and Juliet."
"Dead and fictional."
She stuck out her tongue at him, and he tried and failed to stifle a smile. He
shook his head and fell back against the couch again, letting out a dramatic
sigh. "Alright, so he's in love with this guy. Think there's any chance he'll
come to his senses any time soon?"
"Considering the way they were looking at each other last night I'd say there's
no chance in hell."
He knew she was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Or that he had
to think about it any more than absolutely necessary. And anyway there was
always the chance that Cupid would change his mind, or that Strife would get
sick of hanging out with a high school kid and dump him. Of course that would
have to happen in the next month, because after that Cupid wouldn't be a high
school kid anymore. "I just don't get it. I mean what does he even see in that
guy? He's not that hot."
For a long moment she just stared at him like she was trying to figure
something out, and he'd begun to wonder if she'd even heard him when she
finally shifted in her seat and leaned a little closer to him. "Remember back
when we first noticed Cupid?"
"Yeah," he answered, frowning as he wondered what exactly she was getting at.
"What about it?"
"Do you think if you and I hadn't been together you would have asked him out? I
mean just the two of you."
"What, like on a date?" He let out a nervous laugh and focused on her knees so
he wouldn't have to look her in the eye. "I don't go out with guys."
"Why not?"
"What do you mean, why not? Psyche, come on, this is stupid. You're supposed to
be my girlfriend, why are you asking me about guys?"
"I just don't get what the big deal is," she said, shrugging and leaning back
in her chair again. "I mean you sleep with them. I know, I'm always there when
it happens. So why wouldn't you go out with a guy?"
"Because dating is lame, for one thing. I mean with you it's different – we
don't date, we hang out. But to just ask out somebody you don't even know?
Anyway it's not like that. Sex is one thing, but dinner and a movie?" He could
feel his skin flushing as he stammered through a rambling explanation that he
was almost sure didn't make any sense, but there was no way he could come up
with an answer to that question that she'd be satisfied with. The truth was
he'd never thought about it before, he'd never had to because Psyche was always
just there. So he had a girlfriend, and that meant he didn't have to date or
have awkward conversations with people he didn't know. Most of the time she
even did the seducing, pretty much all he had to do was show up. The thought of
dating a guy – dating Cupid – it was crazy. They were friends, that was it.
Just because he wanted him didn't mean he was in love with him or something
lame like that.
"So what you're saying is if we weren't together when you first noticed Cupid
you wouldn't have asked him out."
"No. I mean yeah…I mean no, I wouldn't have," he stammered, blushing even
harder when she smirked at him.
"Well the second time Strife saw Cupid he left the stage in the middle of a
show just to make sure he didn't get away. So I guess that's what Cupid sees in
him."
And damn if she wasn't right, but she didn't have to look so smug about it. He
knew he was scowling at her but he couldn't help himself; the last thing he
needed was his own girlfriend sticking up for Cupid's boyfriend. "Whatever. Can
we please stop talking about Cupid's love life and decide what we're doing
tonight? I'm bored out of my freaking mind here."
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding when she smiled and let
him change the subject. He knew Psyche was probably the only person he could
talk to about stuff like this, but even if he wanted to talk about it he
couldn't put his finger on why Cupid's love life bothered him so much. He'd
never been this jealous before; it didn't bother him when Psyche wanted to hook
up with some other guy, he was always there when she did. So their relationship
was a little unconventional, but they still had a relationship. Which meant he
should be jealous over Psyche, not Cupid. He couldn't change the way he felt,
though, and he'd spent the past three weeks trying.
"Let's go back into the city," she said, her eyes shining with an excitement he
hadn't seen on her in a long time.
"Yeah, okay," he answered, grinning back at her in spite of himself. It was a
big city, so the chances of them running into Cupid and his new boyfriend were
practically nonexistent. And it was Cupid's loss if he wanted to hang out by
himself and act like a groupie; they'd had fun at the clubs before he came
along, and if he wasn't around it just meant they had one less thing to worry
about.

                          Part Eighteen – Night Life
Psyche’s eyes were already glued to the stage as she wove her way through the
crowd, doing her best to ignore Auto’s constant stream of complaints about the
fact that she’d dragged him back to the club where she knew Cupid and his
boyfriend would be. She hadn’t been able to convince him that it was a big
enough crowd to avoid Cupid easily, but the fact that he hadn’t flat out
refused to go inside let her know that part of him wanted to be there. Or at
least that morbid curiosity had gotten the better of him.
Not that she really cared why Auto had finally given in, as long as it meant
she didn’t have to go to some other club where it would just be the two of them
and a whole bunch of strangers. She was tired of always giving in to Auto, and
anyway the reason she wanted to go see War Bastards play again didn’t have
anything to do with Cupid. For all she cared they really could just pretend
Cupid wasn’t there, because she was pretty sure Cupid wouldn’t be all that
happy to see them after the way Auto had acted the night before. Sure, they
could have chosen another club with another band that they both liked a little
better, but other bands didn’t have gorgeous bass players with dark hair and
blue eyes and a strong, quiet presence that made Psyche’s knees feel weird.
And if she had a little crush it wasn’t hurting anybody; Auto wouldn’t care, at
least not until he figured out that she wasn’t planning on including him in
whatever happened between her and Xena. If anything happened, because for the
first time in a long time Psyche wasn’t sure that her looks would be enough to
get her what she wanted. She knew she was pretty, she’d been told that enough
times by men and women alike to believe that it was true. And she’d never had a
problem with her self-image, because even though her parents didn’t seem to
care what she did she knew there were plenty of other people that wanted her
around.
She’d always thought of herself as being pretty good at reading people, but
when it came to Xena she had no idea what the other girl was thinking. Maybe it
made Psyche just a little more interested than she normally would have been,
but the fact was that she wanted to know more. She was so caught up in trying
to catch a glimpse of Xena through the crowd that she didn’t notice Auto
stopping until he grabbed her arm and yanked her backwards. She collided hard
with his chest, frowning as she yanked her arm out of his grip and scowled up
at him. “What’s the big idea?” she demanded, but he wasn’t even looking at her.
He pointed toward a table near the stage, his mouth open and his eyes wide. She
followed his gaze, a soft ‘oh’ escaping her lips as she saw what had made him
stop so abruptly. “Is that…?”
“Yeah. And isn’t that…?”
“Uh huh.” For a long moment she was frozen in place, staring at the unlikely
spectacle of Cupid sitting at a table next to his father. On Ares’ other side
was a smaller, dark-haired man, and although she’d only met him once she
remembered Joxer. Even if she’d never laid eyes on him before she’d know who he
was by the way he was leaning into Ares.
“What the hell are they doing here?”
“Meeting the boyfriend, I guess,” she answered, swallowing her surprise and
reaching up to grab Auto’s arm. “Come on, let’s go say hi.”
“No way, they hate me.”
“Yeah, but they love me, so that makes up for it.” She smirked when he rolled
his eyes at her, but he let her pull him forward through the crowd. When they
reached the table Cupid and Ares looked up, Cupid’s face lighting up in a grin
that let Psyche know exactly how pleased he was with himself. “Hey, Cupe. We
were worried you might be lonely, but I guess not.”
If it was possible Cupid’s grin brightened a little more, leaving him looking a
lot less like the dangerous punk he was supposed to be and a lot more like a
kid in a candy store. “You guys remember my dad and Joxer, right?”
“Sure we do. Hi, Mr. Kouros.” She smiled at Ares and then at Joxer, elbowing
Auto until he grunted something that would have to pass for a greeting.
The two older men nodded at both of them, but she could tell Cupid’s father
wasn’t all that thrilled to be recognized, even if it was just by a couple of
his son’s friends. In fact he looked downright uncomfortable, and Psyche
suppressed a giggle as she slid into the chair next to Cupid and leaned toward
him. “If you wanted your dad to meet Strife couldn’t you just bring him to the
apartment or something?”
“I did,” Cupid answered, his eyes lighting up as he turned to make himself
heard over the music. “Joxer’s Strife’s uncle. I thought maybe he’d want to see
the show.”
“No way, you’re sleeping with your dad’s boyfriend’s nephew? You mean you knew
who he was all along and you didn’t say anything?”
“I had no idea until today,” Cupid answered. “And keep your voice down. My dad
doesn’t like to be reminded of the whole ‘sleeping together’ thing.”
She tried and failed to choke back a laugh, shaking her head when Cupid grinned
and turned back to the stage again. Admittedly it was a weird coincidence, but
knowing how overprotective Cupid’s parents were it would probably help his
cause that Strife was related to someone that was more or less family. She
followed his gaze to the stage, taking in Strife’s expression for the first
time since they got to the club. She’d seen him perform enough times now to
know that there was something different about him tonight, and she could only
assume it was because he was nervous. It was kind of cute that somebody who
came off as confident as Strife would be nervous that his uncle was in the
audience. Unless he was nervous about Cupid’s dad, which was more likely and
somehow even cuter.
Somehow she managed not to actually squeal, but she put her arm around Cupid
and squeezed his neck for a second before she let go again. When he turned to
raise his eyebrows at her she just grinned. “I’m just happy for you, Cupe. You
deserve for things to work out, you know.”
He smiled and leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on her cheek, clearing his
throat when he pulled away to cover his embarrassment. “So what about you
guys?” he asked, glancing around her at Auto for a second before he turned back
to her and lowered his voice. “Was everything okay when you left here last
night?”
“What, with him? He’s fine,” Psyche assured him, stealing a quick glance at
Auto to make sure he wasn’t listening before she continued. “I think it’s just
growing pains or something. You know, graduation’s coming up and he’s freaking
out a little about having to actually grow up or something. Don’t worry about
it.”
“Are you sure? Because he seemed pretty mad about something last night.”
“I’m positive, Cupid. Seriously, don’t worry about it. He’ll get over it.” She
managed a smile that she hoped was convincing; she didn’t really enjoy lying to
her friends, but the last thing Cupid needed was to worry about hurting Auto’s
feelings when he was still trying to figure out his first real relationship.
She held his gaze until she was reasonably sure he wasn’t going to argue with
her, then she turned her attention back to the stage.
The rest of the band seemed to be picking up on Strife’s nervousness, but aside
from looking a little bit like they wished they were anywhere but onstage they
were handling it okay. Xena seemed the most collected out of the four of them,
and she crossed the stage to whisper something Strife while Psyche watched. He
nodded and cast a quick glance over at their table, Xena following his gaze
automatically. Psyche found herself holding her breath as her eyes locked with
Xena’s for a moment. The other girl looked away almost instantly, but when she
swung back in their direction again she was smiling.
Psyche didn’t realize she was wearing a matching grin until an elbow nudged
her, and she blinked and tore her gaze away from Xena to focus on Cupid.
“What?”
“You know, Strife thinks Xena might be interested. If you still are. Only…” He
trailed off and glanced over her shoulder again, but Auto was still staring
straight ahead as though he’d forgotten they were even there. “Only just you,”
he finished when he was sure Auto wasn’t listening.
“Yeah?” Psyche did her best not to betray her reaction to that revelation;
knowing Cupid he’d think he was doing her a favor by telling Strife to ask Xena
if she’d go out with her, and Psyche liked to think of herself as above those
kind of games. Still, she’d been thinking about cutting Auto loose for awhile
now, and she’d almost done it that morning until she saw how confused he was
about Cupid and took pity on him. She wasn’t sure if she was doing him any
favors by letting him hide behind their relationship, but she didn’t want to
just dump him either. They’d been friends for too long for her to just throw
that away, even if she was ready to move on.
“Would Auto go for that?”
Psyche shrugged and did her best to look like she was actually contemplating
what Auto thought. The truth was that he probably wouldn’t notice what she did
unless she somehow managed to seduce Cupid away from Strife, and that wasn’t
going to happen. The chances of him even noticing if she hooked up with someone
on her own for once…well, they were slim at best, especially considering how
distracted he was about Cupid’s love life. It didn’t leave him a lot of room to
worry about her, that was for sure. “I don’t know, Cupe. I’ll have to think
about it,” she said, smiling as casually as possible and hoping he’d take the
hint and drop the subject. Maybe once she was ready to do something about it
she’d want to talk to Cupid, but until then she didn’t want to say anything to
anyone that could ruin her chances.
~
There was no way Strife was going out into the crowd between sets, he didn’t
care if his own father was sitting out there at that table with Cupid. He just
wanted to live in denial, just for a little while longer. The afternoon had
gone so well, he got to hang out with his uncle and play the piano again and
Cupid’s father didn’t seem to hate him nearly as much as he expected. Now that
he’d seen Strife perform, though…well it wasn’t exactly the kind of music Ares
and Joxer would usually listen to, and he knew his uncle wished he’d quit
screwing around with his band and do something ‘real’ with his musical talent.
Chances were Ares had heard that speech more than once over the years, and that
meant he probably wasn’t all that impressed with War Bastards. Strife had opted
to actually wear a shirt for the show tonight; it was a lot less comfortable,
but it was more conservative and under the circumstances he needed all the
points he could score. So instead of jumping off the front of the stage to find
Cupid and drag him back to the dressing room he followed the rest of the band
off the stage, intent on spending their first break of the night brooding by
himself.
“Strife.”
He jumped at the sound of his name, scowling at the sound of his cousin’s
laughter. “Geez, Xena, give a guy a heart attack. What?”
“What’s the story with Cupid’s friend?”
“I told ya, I think he’s got a thing fer Cupe. It’s creepy, but it’s not like I
can do anythin’ about it.”
“No, not him,” Xena said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “The other
one…Psyche, right?”
As soon as he realized who she was talking about Strife smirked, curling his
hands into fists to keep himself from throwing his arms around her and
congratulating her on finally getting over Gabrielle. “Beats me. Ya wanna meet
her?”
“I already have, Strife. Last night ring any bells?”
“Yeah, but ya didn’t really get a chance ta talk. If ya like her…”
Xena rolled her eyes and cast a quick glance at Hercules and Iolaus to make
sure they weren’t listening. “I didn’t say that,” she answered, lowering her
voice so the others wouldn’t overhear her. “She has a boyfriend, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Strife admitted. He didn’t really like to think about it, but
if Iolaus was right things between Auto and Psyche might not be as solid as
they appeared. “It’s kinda weird. I mean they hook up with other people.”
“Like an open relationship?”
“More like a kink. Both of ‘em hook up. At the same time.”
“Oh.” Xena blinked, then looked down and bit her lip. When she looked back up
at him again her eyes were a little darker than usual, and he could tell she
was trying not to let him see her reaction to that news. “So that’s why she
wanted to meet me?”
Strife shrugged and did his best to look innocent, suddenly wishing he’d
actually asked Cupid why Psyche wanted to meet his cousin before he dragged her
backstage. “I swear I didn’t know, Xena. Not ‘til later. Cupe said she changed
her mind anyway.”
“She did? Why?”
“She told Cupe she didn’t wanna mess up things between him an’ me.” He frowned
suspiciously at her for a second, taking in the barely disguised hurt in her
eyes. “Ya wouldn’ta gone fer that, wouldya? I mean Psyche, yeah, but Auto?”
“No, of course not,” Xena snapped, steaing another glance behind her before she
grabbed Strife’s arm and dragged him further away from Hercules and Iolaus.
“It’s just that I heard them arguing. After you guys went back onstage I went
to the bathroom, and when I came out Psyche and Auto were still back here
fighting about Cupid.”
“I told ya, Auto’s got some weird thing fer Cupe. Try gettin’ him ta believe
it, though.”
“Well I was just thinking, if Auto’s got a thing for Cupid that means his thing
with Psyche can’t be that solid, right?”
Strife rolled his eyes this time, and anyone that had been watching would have
been struck by how much they looked alike when they did that. “They’re fuckin’
other people, Xena. Couldn’ta been all that solid ta begin with. Ya sure ya
don’t want me ta say somethin’ ta Cupid?”
Her smirk returned as soon as he asked the question. “You’ve been hanging
around with high school kids way too much lately, Strife. I don’t need you to
talk to anybody for me.”
“So yer interested then.”
“I didn’t say that.” She grinned when he let out a frustrated sigh, but her
expression softened almost instantly. “Look, I appreciate the thought and all,
but I can handle my own personal life, okay?”
Strife nodded and let her turn away from him, but he wasn’t nearly as confident
about that as she was trying to sound. The fact was that her last relationship
had ended badly, and since then she’d been so fixated on Gabbie that she barely
even noticed other girls. Psyche was the first girl she’d showed even a passing
interest in since he’d been in town, and he had a feeling she wasn’t going to
do anything about it. She’d probably use Psyche’s weird thing with Auto as an
excuse not to pursue it, and he hated to see his favorite cousin sell herself
short like that.
It wouldn’t really hurt just to mention it to Cupid and see what he thought.
High school kids did talk about these things, after all, and if anybody would
know what Psyche thought of Xena it would be Cupid. If Psyche really was
interested Xena would thank him later, and if she wasn’t then Xena never had to
know. It was just a harmless question, after all, and it gave him something to
focus on other than the fact that Cupid’s father was still sitting out in the
audience, just waiting for Strife to screw up.

                          Part Nineteen – Odd Men Out
It was obvious from the way they were whispering that Cupid and Psyche thought
Auto either couldn't hear them or wasn’t paying attention to their
conversation. He was more than happy to let them think he was completely
oblivious, especially since he was learning all sorts of things about what his
friends really thought of him. Not that they'd said much, but he wasn't as dumb
as they thought he was and he knew how to read between the lines.
Psyche being interested in a girl didn't bother him as much as it probably
should have, the part that bothered him the most was that it was the girl in
Strife's band. He'd been wishing since that first night when Cupid couldn't
keep his eyes off Strife that he'd never heard of the band War Bastards; it
seemed like ever since they showed up in New York that they'd been on a mission
to ruin Auto's life, and he didn't know what to do to stop it.
It always bothered him when Cupid hooked up with some stranger, but this was so
much worse because it was the real thing. That much was obvious, and he knew
Psyche was right when she said Cupid was in love. It was written all over his
face any time anybody even mentioned Strife's name, and it hurt to know that he
wasn't the one Cupid chose to fall for. Granted he hadn't exactly been trying
to romance the guy, but Cupid knew he was interested and he'd still turned Auto
down every time. So yeah, it bothered him that his best friend was acting all
starry-eyed over some guy they barely even knew, and now it looked like Psyche
was going to abandon him too.
And it wasn't just about fucking Cupid. He really liked the guy, even though
he'd tried every way he could think of to get over it. He didn't get all
wrapped up in feelings and crap like that, he didn't have time for it and
anyway he wasn't interested in a long-term thing with anyone. But he liked
having Cupid and Psyche around, he liked hanging out with them and he liked the
fact that whenever they went out, no matter who they hooked up with, they
always went home together. Lately he was starting to feel like the odd man out,
and he didn't like it one bit.
Letting Psyche drag him back to the same club where they knew Cupid would be
was bad enough, but to find him hanging out with his dad…Cupid's dad hated him,
he always had. The fact that he'd go to a night club to see Cupid's new
boyfriend was just another slap in the face, another way to tell Auto that he
was never going to be the one Cupid looked at like he couldn't live without
him. Not that he necessarily wanted that, no matter what Psyche thought. Still,
maybe it would be nice, just for a little while, for somebody to think of him
the way Cupid obviously thought of Strife.
Maybe there was a time when Psyche thought of him that way, but lately things
between them were…well, weird. He wasn't dumb enough to miss the signals, and
hearing that she had a thing for Xena just drove the point home. Psyche was
going to break up with him, and then what was he supposed to do? Maybe this
thing with Xena was just a fling; maybe if he told her he didn't mind she'd
just get it out of her system and they could go back to the way things always
were between them. They were still the same people, after all; just because
they were graduating from high school soon didn't mean everything had to
change. Not if they didn't want it to, but he was starting to get the feeling
that that was the whole problem.
Everybody seemed to think there was nothing wrong with everything in their
lives changing, and he didn't get how his best friends could just move on
without even thinking about how he felt about it. And the worst part was that
there really wasn't anything he could do about it, not without making them both
hate him. It was bad enough that he and Cupid hadn't stopped fighting since he
met Strife, but now Psyche was getting sick of him moping around and she was
going to ditch him for some girl. Some girl she didn't even know, who was
friends with Strife and would probably hate Auto on principle.
He knew making a scene with Strife's friends hadn't won him any points with
them, but he hadn't really been thinking about whether or not they liked him at
the time. It wouldn’t even matter if they all hated him, except he had a
feeling they'd all be around a lot more, especially if Psyche and Xena really
did hook up. Which meant either he got along with Strife and his two sidekicks
Dumb and Dumber, or he spent a lot of time by himself over the summer.
As soon as he thought it the second set ended, and he rolled his eyes and sank
a little lower in his chair as the taller of Strife's two sidekicks hopped off
the stage and headed into the crowd. Auto watched him move, one eyebrow raised
as he took in the muscle tone and the way the guy's hair brushed his shoulders.
He wasn't bad looking when he wasn't running his mouth; not the type Auto
usually picked out, but he was definitely somebody Psyche would take a second
look at. Maybe if he distracted her from Xena long enough she'd forget why
she'd been thinking about moving on in the first place. He wasn't sure what's-
his-name would go for it, but it was worth a shot.
"Hey," he said, leaning toward Psyche and nudging her with his elbow, "what do
you think of him?"
"Who?" Psyche asked, frowning as she followed Auto's gaze. "The muscle bound
jerk that treated us like shit last night? You're kidding, right?"
"Well I don't wanna marry the guy. It's lot like there's a lot of conversation
involved."
Psyche opened her mouth to argue with him, but before she got the words out
Hercules stopped in front of a blonde and grabbed her around the waist. They
both watched as he dragged her forward almost forcefully, not that she looked
like she minded. Her arms were already around his neck by the time their lips
met, and by the looks of things neither of them planned to come up for air any
time soon. "Something tells me he wouldn't be interested," Psyche finally
answered.
"Maybe, maybe not," Auto said, shrugging as he watched Hercules and the mystery
girl. "Hey, Cupe," he said, leaning over Psyche to get the other boy's
attention, "what's the story with those two?"
"Who?"
"The guitarist and that blonde," Auto answered, pointing in Hercules'
direction.
Cupid finally found the couple in question, his jaw dropping a little as he
watched Hercules and Gabrielle push the limits of public decency. "Holy shit,"
he muttered under his breath, forgetting for the moment that his father was
within earshot. "That's who Iolaus was talking about? Xena's gonna freak.
Strife's gonna freak."
Auto started to ask why either of them cared who their friend made out with,
but he could tell that Cupid wasn't even listening to him anymore. He was
already looking at the stage again, seeking out Strife to see if his boyfriend
had caught the floorshow yet. Something told Auto that this had the potential
to at least be entertaining, which made up a little for the fact that even if
the guy was interested Psyche probably wouldn't go for it.
When he caught sight of Strife he was talking to the drummer, but the blond had
obviously seen his friend and the girl because he was staring over Strife's
shoulder, looking for all the world like he'd just swallowed a bug. Finally
Strife noticed that the blond guy wasn't even listening to him, and he turned
in the direction of the crowd just in time to see the guitarist pull away from
the girl and set her back on the floor again. Auto didn't bother trying not to
laugh at Strife's expression; they'd all gone back to ignoring him anyway, and
even Cupid's dad looked concerned as Cupid whispered what Auto assumed was an
explanation about whatever was going on.
A few seconds later Strife was off the stage and heading for his friend, the
blond right on his heels. Cupid stood up immediately, shaking off his father's
hand when the older man tried to stop him. For a second Auto wondered if there
was actually going to be a fight, and before he knew it he was standing up and
trailing after Cupid. He stopped a few feet away from the small group, vaguely
registering the fact that Psyche had stopped next to him. The guitarist hadn't
even noticed his friends yet, but when Strife grabbed his arm and pulled him
backwards he tensed and turned to face them.
"What the fuck?" Strife demanded, glancing over Hercules' shoulder at the girl
he'd been kissing. "Ya gotta be kiddin'. Gabbie?"
"It's none of your business," Hercules said, crossing his arms over his chest
and glaring at the other boy. "I don't tell you who you can sleep with, do I?"
He stole a quick glance at Cupid as soon as he finished talking, a smirk
tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Strife's eyes narrowed and he took another step forward, jabbing his index
finger against Hercules' chest. "It's my business when yer fuckin' the chick
Xena's been into fer months."
Hercules rolled his eyes at that, letting out a short, bitter laugh and casting
a quick glance over Strife's shoulder before he turned back to him again. "Come
on, Strife, we all knew that was never gonna happen. It was pathetic."
Even Auto winced at the expression on Strife's face when Hercules said the word
'pathetic'. A quick glance at the girl he assumed was Gabbie let him know this
was the first she'd heard about Xena having a thing for her, and he almost felt
sorry for her. He wasn't sure what was going on exactly, but he had a feeling
Hercules was using her to make some kind of point to the rest of his friends.
"Wait," she said, frowning as though she was trying to figure out what exactly
they meant by 'Xena's been into'. "What the fuck are you guys talking about?
Herc?"
"Forget it, it's nothing," Hercules said, dismissing her with a wave of his
hand.
"It's not nothin'. Shut the fuck up, Gabbie. Ya knew she had a thing for ya and
ya treated her like complete shit."
"I did not," Gabbie shot back, and judging by her expression Auto was pretty
sure she was telling the truth. Not that he was about to stick up for her and
ruin the fun. Most of the crowd at the front of the club was watching the
exchange now, and he had a feeling if a fight broke out that most people would
consider it more entertaining than the actual music. He glanced to his right to
say something to Psyche, but when he looked she wasn't standing next to him
anymore. He frowned and scanned the crowd behind him, but there was no sign of
her. He couldn't see their table from where he was standing, but he had a
feeling she hadn't gone back there.
He sighed and turned back to the fight, telling himself it didn't really matter
anyway. The chances of him distracting her from Xena had been slim to begin
with, and now they were probably nonexistent. He wasn't sure what he'd missed
in the few seconds that he'd been distracted, but whatever it was had pissed
off Strife enough that Cupid had moved between him and Hercules to hold him
back. The blond guy moved around Cupid and Strife to push Hercules back,
shaking his head and talking too low for Auto to make out what he was saying.
He was a little disappointed that they weren't actually going to fight, but he
wasn't surprised to see Cupid trying to break it up before things got out of
hand.
"Strife, come on, just let it go," Cupid said. They were standing close enough
to Auto for him to hear them, but neither of them even noticed he was standing
there. "Trying to kill him isn't gonna make Xena feel any better."
"It'll make me feel better," Strife growled, his gaze still riveted on
Hercules.
Cupid laughed and started to lean into Strife, and before he realized what he
was doing Auto reached out and grabbed his friend's arm. "Cupe." Both of them
turned to look at him, Cupid's eyes wide with surprise and Strife's scowl still
firmly in place. "Think about where you are, Cupe," he finished, scanning the
crowd around them before he focused his attention on his friend again.
A short nod was his only indication that Cupid understood what he was getting
at, but Cupid's grip on Strife loosened and Auto heard him say something about
going to make sure Xena was okay. Before they had a chance to move the crowd
parted behind them and suddenly Cupid's dad was looming over them, his
expression dark as he took in the scene in front of him. "Son?"
"Everything's fine, Dad," Cupid assured him.
Auto had to stifle a laugh at the idea of Cupid calling Ares 'dad' in front of
half the club, but he had a feeling his friend wouldn't get the joke. Sometimes
Cupid was so painfully naïve that it was impossible not to want to protect him;
that was the whole problem with trying to be his friend in the first place. He
watched Cupid and Strife follow Ares back toward their table, his attention
returning to Hercules and the other guy as soon as they were gone. Hercules had
managed to shake his friend off him, and all Auto saw was a glimpse of his back
as he turned to follow Gabbie through the crowd.
The rest of the crowd began to turn back to their own conversations as Strife
and Hercules stalked off in opposite directions, and Auto watched while the
drummer looked around and let out a sigh. He ran his hands through his mop of
long blond curls and shook his head, his gaze falling on Auto. "Did you see
where Strife went?" he asked, maneuvering around a few people to stop in front
of Auto.
"He and Cupe went that way," Auto answered, nodding in the direction of the
stage. "They might've gone to look for Xena. I have a feeling that's where
Psyche went too."
"Psyche?"
"Yeah, my girl…that girl I was with last night," he amended. It felt weird to
think of Psyche as anything other than his girlfriend, but he had a feeling
after tonight he wouldn't have much of a choice. "If Xena saw your friend and
that girl she's probably somewhere plotting their deaths or something. Psyche
probably went to talk to her. You know how chicks are, they can't do anything
without talking to some other chick about it."
"Yeah." Iolaus nodded distractedly, frowning in the direction of the stage.
"Thanks."
Three seconds later he was gone, weaving his way through the crowd in the
direction of the stage. Auto let out another sigh and glanced around, shaking
his head when he realized he was alone again. Going back to the table and
sitting there with Cupid's dad didn't sound all that appealing, so instead he
headed in the direction of the bar. He could definitely use a beer, or possibly
something stronger. His whole life was starting to get really confusing, and he
just wanted to not think about it for awhile.
~
Psyche opened the door to the dressing room carefully, bracing herself for
screaming or crying or something heavy flung in her direction. When she didn't
hear anything she frowned and pushed the door open all the way, scanning the
room to assure herself that it was actually empty. She crossed to the door she
remembered from the night before as the bathroom, but it was empty too. The
closet Cupid and Strife had been using was equally empty, and when Psyche
realized Xena was nowhere to be found she sighed and walked back out of the
dressing room. There were a couple more closed doors in the hallway, but one
was marked 'office' and when she tried the knob it was locked. The other one
was just another closet, this one lined with boxes of what looked like bar
supplies.
She was about to give up and head back into the club when she caught sight of a
sign at the very end of the hall, and she walked toward it and saw for the
first time that there was a door painted the same color as the wall. She took a
deep breath when she reached it, praying she wasn't about to set off some alarm
as she pushed it open and stepped outside. The sudden rush of night air was
almost cool against her skin, and she shivered a little as she glanced around
the alley and finally spotted Xena.
"Don’t shut it," Xena said, surprising a nervous blush out of Psyche. She
nodded and looked around for something to prop the door open with, finally
settling for a piece of questionable-looking cardboard propped against the
wall. She made sure the door didn't close before she let go of the handle and
crossed the dark alley.
"You mind if I…" Psyche gestured toward the crate next to the one Xena was
sitting on, stifling a relieved sigh when Xena shook her head.
"It's probably a good thing you came out here," Xena said after a long moment.
"I didn't think about the door locking until after I shut it."
Psyche grinned and leaned forward, noticing for the first time that Xena was
holding a cigarette. "You smoke?"
Xena shrugged and looked down at the cigarette before tossing it on the ground
and crushing it under the heel of her boot. "Only when I'm nervous. Or
seriously pissed."
"So you saw."
Xena looked up at her then, her blue eyes bright even in the darkness of the
alley. "It was pretty hard to miss. But how'd you…?"
"Strife kinda said something," Psyche answered, wincing as she imagined Cupid's
reaction to hearing that she'd ratted his boyfriend out. "I don't think he
meant to embarrass you or anything. He was pretty pissed that Hercules would do
that to you, he probably wasn't thinking about who would hear him."
"Great," Xena groaned, her head dropping into her hands. "That's perfect."
Psyche stopped herself before she actually touched the other girl, folding her
arms over her chest and curling her fingers into her palms in an effort to keep
herself from doing anything she'd regret. "It's not that bad. Okay, it's pretty
bad," she added when Xena turned her head far enough to glare at her. "But you
didn't do anything wrong. So you had a little crush, she should be flattered."
"You don't get it," Xena mumbled into her hands. A second later she took a deep
breath and straightened up, fixing Psyche with an unreadable expression. "Look,
what are you doing out here? I mean you don't even know me."
"The testosterone was getting pretty thick in there," Psyche answered, a grin
tugging at the corners of her mouth when Xena raised an eyebrow at her.
"Besides, I figured it might be easier for you to talk to somebody you don't
know."
Xena considered that for a moment, then her features lit up in a wry grin. "So
do you always go around doing free therapy at night clubs? Or are you just
getting into charity work?"
"I wouldn’t call it charity work," Psyche said, returning the other girl's
smile. "The truth is I'm probably the worst person for you to talk to. Let's
just say I've been there."
"You?"
Psyche swallowed the urge to tell Xena not to sound so surprised. She knew that
from an outsider's perspective her life looked pretty close to perfect; rich
parents, a cute boyfriend who didn't get jealous when someone else caught her
eye, and friends that genuinely cared about her. As far as most of the kids in
her school were concerned she led a charmed life. "Well, for starters, my so-
called boyfriend's in love with our best friend."
"Yeah, Strife mentioned something about Auto having a thing for Cupid. He
seemed to think Cupid was pretty much oblivious, though."
"Oh yeah. He's as clueless as they come when it comes to knowing if somebody's
interested in him. If Strife hadn't dragged him backstage that first night he
never would have thought he had a shot. But he's really happy, you know? I
don't want to see Auto screw that up."
"So you two…I mean it's none of my business, but why don't you just break up
with him?"
Psyche smiled at the question she'd been asking herself ever since this whole
thing with Cupid and Strife started. "It's complicated. I mean I've known him
forever, you know? We've been friends practically our whole lives, and I don't
want to just cut him out of my life. I guess I've just been waiting for the
right time to tell him."
Xena nodded and stood up, clearing her throat and glancing in the direction of
the door. "I better get back. If they haven't killed each other we've got
another set to play."
"Yeah, sure," Psyche answered, standing up to follow the other girl inside. She
had a feeling she'd said something wrong, but she wasn't sure what it was or
how to fix it. She wasn't even sure if Xena wanted her to, or if she was just
being nice. Maybe she really had wanted to be alone, only she was too polite to
tell Psyche to fuck off. There weren't many girls in her school that would give
her the time of day, let alone actually wanted to hang out for girl talk. So it
wasn't like she had a lot of experience with it, but she couldn't stand the
thought of Xena off somewhere suffering by herself. She knew how much it hurt
to find out someone you cared about was interested in somebody else, and even
though her relationship with Auto was a little different it still hurt to know
she was second choice.

                         Part Twenty – The Yoko Factor
“Was that part of the floor show?” Ares asked, raising an eyebrow at Cupid as
he took his seat at the table again.
Cupid sighed and tore his gaze away from Strife’s back long enough to glance at
his father. He was grateful that Ares had at least waited until Strife went
back to the stage to start in on him, but he didn’t really feel like having
this conversation right now. There was still a good chance that a fight could
break out onstage, not that there was anything he could do about it. Still, he
didn’t feel like justifying his boyfriend’s behavior to his father.
“Strife and Hercules are friends,” Joxer interjected. "It just doesn't make
sense that they were fighting for no reason." When he was done he looked over
at Cupid, obviously expecting some kind of explanation. There was no way he was
going to get out of explaining what was going on, not if Joxer was going to
take Ares’ side.
“Fine. Strife’s cousin Xena has a thing for this girl, Gabbie. Hercules was mad
at Strife for going out with me, so I guess he slept with Gabbie to get back at
everybody. It doesn’t make any sense to me, but that’s what happened.”
“Hercules was jealous of you and Strife?”
“No, not like that,” Cupid answered, shaking his head at Joxer’s puzzled
expression. “He thinks if Strife’s going out with me that he’s not going to be
as focused on the band. I guess they made some kind of deal where none of them
would get serious about somebody until the band took off. It’s stupid if you
ask me, but they all agreed and now Herc’s pissed at Strife.”
Cupid didn’t have to look at his father to know what Ares was thinking. He’d
heard the speech enough times to be able to read Ares’ mind, and he knew that
right now Ares was wondering whatever happened to all those ‘nice, normal’ kids
Cupid used to hang around with. What his father never seemed to get was that
‘nice and normal’ meant totally boring, and there was only so much student
council and academic decathlon a kid could stand before he lost it.
Joxer was nodding already, though, which meant that at least he was going to
try to make Ares understand. “Strife and Xena have always been close, even
though they didn’t grow up in the same city. Their mothers were practically
inseparable when they were growing up, they got along a lot better than any
other sisters I’ve ever met. It was hard for Eris when Athena moved to New
York, but she used to bring Xena back to visit every summer.”
“So you know Xena?”
“I did when she was a little girl. Athena never liked me much, I guess because
I reminded her too much of Jett. Then again Athena doesn't like anybody much.
But Xena and Strife used to come over to play the piano when they were little.
They always said they were going to start a band one day.” Joxer smiled
affectionately in the direction of the stage just as Xena reappeared. “Of
course nobody took them seriously when they were seven.”
Cupid grinned at the image of Strife and Xena as kids, planning their future as
rock stars. He glanced up at the stage, his grin fading as he watched Hercules
walk back onto the stage and pick up his guitar. The tension between the band
members was obvious, but at least they were just ignoring each other instead of
throwing punches. He turned when he caught sight of Psyche out of the corner of
his eye, frowning as he realized for the first time that she’d disappeared
sometime during the fight.
“Everything okay?” he asked as she slid into the seat next to him.
She shrugged and stole a quick glance at the stage, but it was long enough for
Cupid to realize who she was looking at. “I guess. Where’s Auto?”
“I don’t know,” Cupid answered. “Last time I saw him was over there.” He
pointed in the direction of Strife and Hercules’ shouting match, scanning the
crowd for any sign of their friend. When he spotted Auto at the bar he nodded
in the other boy’s direction. “There he is. Should’ve known, I guess.”
“I better go get him, we’ve gotta hurry if we’re gonna make the last train.”
She leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on Cupid’s cheek. “See ya, Cupe.”
She waved to Ares and Joxer before she disappeared into the crowd, leaving
Cupid to wonder what exactly she’d been doing while the rest of them had been
distracted by the fight. Something was definitely going on with his friends,
but he’d been so wrapped up in his own relationship that he didn’t have a clue
what it was.
Auto had been acting weird for awhile, and now Psyche was starting to act
strange too. He hadn’t realized how little he’d really seen of them for the
past few weeks until he stopped to think about it, but the truth was that even
when he was with them he wasn’t really paying any attention to them. He knew at
least Psyche understood that he was a little preoccupied with Strife, but that
didn’t make it okay to ignore his best friends. He turned to see if they were
still in the club, but there was no sign of either of them anywhere near the
bar. A heavy sigh escaped his throat as he turned back to the stage, promising
himself he was going to start being a better friend as soon as he got home.
A loud yawn from Joxer’s direction interrupted his train of thought, and Cupid
smiled as he watched his father turn to frown at his boyfriend. “We should get
going,” Ares said, leaning forward on the table so Cupid could hear him over
the music.
“Sure, no problem,” Cupid answered. “Thanks for coming, I know it meant a lot
to Strife. He won’t admit it, but it did.”
Joxer grinned as Ares stood up and pulled him to his feet. “Tell him to call me
tomorrow. We’ll have him over for dinner sometime next week.”
“You’re sure you’ll be okay by yourself,” Ares asked, although it wasn’t really
a question so much as a challenge. Cupid stopped himself from rolling his eyes,
gesturing toward the stage.
“I’m not alone, Dad.”
Ares let out a dramatic sigh and glanced in the direction of the stage just as
the band started a new song. Cupid cringed when he recognized the music,
wishing Ares and Joxer had left just a few minutes earlier. He knew when he
glanced at his father again that Ares recognized it too, and he raised an
eyebrow at Cupid.
“What? They were doing this song before I met him,” Cupid said, answering his
father’s unspoken question. “It’s his mom’s favorite or something.”
“It is,” Joxer confirmed when they both looked at him. “Although I’m not sure
how she’d feel about this particular version.”
”She hates it. That’s the reason Strife put it in the show.”
“Just be careful,” Ares said, casting one last glance in the direction of the
stage. He opened his mouth to say something else, but when he glanced at Joxer
again he thought better of it and shook his head instead. “Call before you
leave the city.”
Cupid watched them walk out of the club, shaking his head as he watched his
father put a hand on Joxer’s back to steer him through the crowd. It was still
hard to believe that Joxer was Strife’s uncle, although if he’d asked the right
questions about Strife’s family he would have figured it out awhile ago. In a
strange way the fact that they were sort of family already made him feel a
little better about where he stood in Strife’s life. At the very least it would
be a lot harder for Hercules to coerce Strife into giving up his relationship
in the name of the band, because even if they broke up Strife would still have
to see him.
Not that he wanted Strife to feel obligated to be with him, but it was nice to
know that they were tied together by more than just a mutual attraction. It
made everything a little more complicated, but Cupid was more than willing to
face whatever complications they came up against. He’d already overcome the
first hurdle, getting his father to accept the fact that he and Strife were a
couple. He’d expected Ares to have a harder time with it than his mother, but
thanks to Joxer it had been relatively painless. Cupid was positive that his
mother would love Strife, so there was no reason to worry about introducing
them. She might have a hard time letting him come into the city once she knew
why he was spending so much time there, but she’d come around eventually. And
once she got used to that idea, he’d find a way to tell her that he was
planning to move there permanently right after graduation.
~
Strife watched Cupid head toward the back of the club as they finished their
last song, smiling to himself at the thought of Cupid waiting for him
backstage. There was a time when he looked forward to hanging out backstage,
joking around with the guys and pretending they really were rock stars. Their
sudden rise to popularity in New York’s club scene was the closest they’d come
to celebrity so far, but it didn’t really feel the same anymore. He still liked
the music and most of the time he liked hanging out with the band, but lately
Hercules was hardly ever around and most of Strife's free time was either spent
with Cupid or thinking about the next time he’d see Cupid.
Weekends didn’t seem like enough, not when there were five whole Cupid-free
days to face in between every weekend. Calling wasn’t the same, and it wasn’t
like either of them could afford to rack up a whole bunch of long-distance
calls. He’d take what he could get when it came to Cupid, though, and that
should have worried him. It did in the beginning, but he knew he wasn’t getting
over it any time soon so there was no use fighting it. Especially after finding
out that Joxer was living with Cupid’s father; they were practically family
already, so even if Strife wanted out it wouldn’t be that easy to walk away.
Just the thought of walking away from Cupid made him want to throw up, so he
tried not to think about it. He wasn’t positive what was happening to him, but
he had a pretty good idea. And the funny thing was that he didn’t really mind,
at least not when Cupid was around. When he went back home to his other life
Strife had too much time to think about how different they were, but not even
that was enough to change the way he felt. He knew Cupid was too young to get
serious, he was going to college and he was going to have a whole new life that
Strife wasn’t a part of. So there was really no way they could have any kind of
future, but they had the summer at least before Cupid figured out that he could
do a whole lot better.
When the song finally ended he set the microphone back in its stand, not
bothering to wait for the rest of the band before he bolted off the stage. He
found Cupid leaning against the wall just outside the dressing room, a grin
tugging at the corners of his mouth when he caught sight of Strife. He was
still wearing the tee shirt he’d changed into at his dad’s, but he’d put more
eyeliner on so he could at least pass for old enough to get into the club. Even
with the makeup he looked younger than usual, though, and Strife was even more
sure than he had been a few minutes ago that things would never work out
between them.
“You ready to go?” Cupid asked, the concern in his voice telling Strife that
his emotions were written all over his face.
“Yeah, I just gotta grab my jacket,” Strife answered, closing the rest of the
distance between them and reaching for Cupid’s hand. “Come inside fer a sec.”
Cupid’s grin returned as he entwined his fingers with Strife’s and followed him
into the room, squeezing Strife’s hand before he released it and sank onto the
couch to watch Strife rifle through the piles of stuff on the floor for his
jacket. “Do you guys move into every club you play at?”
Strife glanced up long enough to grin at him. “Beats my place. Ya sure ya don’t
wanna sleep here tonight?”
“I kinda like your place,” Cupid said. “I mean I wouldn’t want to live there or
anything but it’s not that bad.”
Strife snorted his amusement as he finally located his jacket under a pile of
Hercules’ clothes, shrugging into it before he crossed to the couch and reached
for Cupid’s hand. Instead of standing up Cupid tugged him forward, sliding his
other hand around Strife’s back to pull him down for a kiss. Strife let Cupid
pull him onto the couch, landing hard on his knees on either side of Cupid’s
thighs. He laughed against Cupid’s mouth, his hands on the younger boy’s
shoulders. “Cupe,” he murmured between kisses, “the guys’re gonna be back here
any second.”
“So? It’s not like they’ve never seen us kissing before,” Cupid said, his voice
vibrating against Strife’s neck.
A low groan escaped Strife’s throat when Cupid’s tongue traced the shell of his
ear, his hands tightening on the other boy’s shoulders. “Yeah, but wouldn’t ya
rather go someplace we don’t hafta worry ‘bout who’s gonna walk in?”
Cupid’s mouth stilled on his skin, and Strife shivered at the sigh the other
boy let out against his neck. He was instantly sorry he’d even brought up the
inevitability of the band walking in on them, but the last thing he wanted to
do was go another round with Hercules. “You’re right,” Cupid said, his hand
sliding out from under Strife’s jacket.
Strife leaned forward and planted another lingering kiss on Cupid’s lips before
he pulled away completely, standing up and reaching for Cupid’s hand again.
This time Cupid let Strife pull him off the couch, but before they made it
further than a few feet across the room the door swung open and the rest of the
band appeared. Xena came in first, ignoring the rest of them as she headed for
her guitar case. Strife frowned as he watched his cousin set her bass in the
case and slam the top shut; a lot of people were afraid of Xena because she
looked so tough, but she was one of the most even-tempered people he knew. It
was rare to see her angry, but after Herc’s performance with Gabbie Strife
wasn’t really surprised.
“Well if it isn’t Yoko.”
As soon as Hercules’ voice registered Strife turned to face him, pulling his
hand out of Cupid’s to step between him and Hercules. “Like ya can fuckin’
talk.”
“Herc, come on. Just leave them alone,” Iolaus said, tugging at his friend’s
arm in a vain attempt to get Hercules to back off.
Hercules shrugged out of Iolaus’ grip and took another step forward, glancing
from Cupid to Strife and then back again. “So it’s okay for you but not for
me?”
"It's not even close ta the same," Strife shot back.
"Sure it is. You went back on our pact, so I don't see why the rest of us
should stick to it. If I wanna go out with Gabbie it's none of your business.
That's what you said, right? So I'm just minding my own business."
Strife's whole body tensed at the look in Hercules' eyes, and he felt Cupid's
hands curl around his arms to hold him back. He wasn't thinking about hitting
Herc yet, but he knew when Cupid grabbed him that he looked like he was
thinking about it. He probably couldn't even beat Herc in a fair fight, but
he'd never been the type to plan these things. Sometimes it worried him that he
had that much of his father in him, but when it came to his family he didn't
back down from a fight.
Of course Xena had never needed anybody to fight her battles for her.
She stepped between Hercules and Strife before either of them made a move,
glancing at Strife long enough to flash a grim smile. "Strife, you and Cupid
get out of here. It's not your fight."
"But…"
"You heard her," Hercules said, leaning around Xena to smirk at Strife.
"Shut the fuck up," Strife snapped, but he let Cupid ease him toward the door.
When they reached a safe distance Cupid stopped and released his grip on
Strife's arms, and he could have kissed the younger boy for wanting to stay and
make sure Xena was alright.
Once Cupid and Strife moved to a safe distance Xena turned back to Hercules,
bright blue eyes sizing him up for a long moment before she spoke again. "Look,
Herc, I'm not mad. I mean I knew it wasn't gonna happen, so no hard feelings,
right? As long as you care about her. I mean she's not just one of your flings,
is she?"
Hercules glanced over his shoulder at Iolaus, his forehead furrowed as he tried
to decide what Xena was up to. When his best friend just shrugged helplessly
Hercules turned back to her, shaking his head as though he wasn't really sure
what she was asking. "No, I mean yeah, I like her. She's fun, you know?"
"Yeah, I know," Xena answered. She smiled wistfully and took a step backwards,
glancing over her shoulder to make sure Strife was still staying out of it. A
second later she turned back to Hercules, her smile fading as she met his gaze
again. "Oh, I forgot. Just one more thing," she said, then pulled her hand back
and punched him square in the jaw.
Four pairs of eyes widened in shock as they watched Xena turn and walk out of
the room without looking back. For a moment Strife was too surprised to react,
but when Hercules muttered something under his breath and reached up to rub his
jaw Cupid grabbed his arm again and began herding him toward the door. "We
should make sure Xena's okay," Cupid whispered against Strife's ear, taking
advantage of Strife's shock to get him out into the hallway.
They headed for the exit that led out the back of the club, but by the time
they reached the alley Xena was already gone. "She'll be okay," Strife said, as
much to convince himself as to convince Cupid. Most of the time Xena was one of
the strongest people he knew, but when she got her heart broken it always hit
her a little harder than most people. The fact that she never talked to anybody
about it just made it worse. "At least she's got a chance ta get over it now,
right?"
"Yeah. You know I think Psyche might have talked to her earlier. So maybe she
helped."
"Psyche?" At the mention of Cupid's friend Strife remembered the conversation
he'd had with Xena about Psyche, and he bit his lip thoughtfully and glanced
over at Cupid. "Ya think she might go fer Xena? I mean I know she's got that
thing with yer friend Auto…"
"I don't know," Cupid answered. "I know she was interested, but they've both
been acting kind of weird lately and I'm not sure what's going on. Why, does
Xena like Psyche?"
Strife shrugged noncommittally and glanced around, making sure nobody from the
club was following them before he slid an arm around Cupid's waist and leaned
into his body heat. "Dunno fer sure, but she was askin' some weird questions
earlier."
"Yeah?" Cupid grinned and Strife was tempted to stop in the middle of the
sidewalk and kiss him again, but he ignored the temptation and started walking
a little faster toward his place.
"That was before Herc decided ta be a jerk, though." He let out a derisive
snort and shook his head as Cupid slid an arm around his shoulders. "Yoko. I
mean come on. Yer not even close ta bein' a Yoko."
"No way," Cupid answered seriously. He tried and failed to stifle a smirk as he
glanced over at Strife, tightening his grip on the other boy's shoulders.
"Linda McCartney, maybe."
Strife rolled his eyes and sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the gods of
good timing when they reached his building, hauling Cupid up the front steps
and into the dark foyer to press him up against the wall just inside the front
door. He leaned up and met Cupid's waiting lips with his own, groaning into the
kiss as strong arms wrapped around his waist and tugged him closer.
"Upstairs, now," Strife gasped between breathless kisses. Cupid mumbled
something against his mouth that Strife couldn't make out and pushed himself
off the wall, letting go of Strife and running up the stairs. For a second
Strife stood at the bottom of the stairs shaking his head, then he remembered
how much fun all that energy could be and followed Cupid up the stairs two at a
time.
***** Chapter 2 *****

                     Part Twenty-One – Dazed and Confused
Maybe he should be used to it by now. They hadn't really known each other that
long, but Cupid had spent enough time at his place that Strife should be used
to seeing him stretched out on his bed. He should be used to the complete trust
in the other boy's eyes, at least enough that it didn't make his stomach
flutter every time he saw it. As soon as he looked down at Cupid that feeling
was back again, though, and he had a feeling it wasn't going away any time
soon.
He was pretty sure about one thing; he'd never get tired of just looking at
Cupid, especially when he'd already tossed his shirt somewhere on the floor and
he was stretched out with one arm behind his head. He wished he had a camera so
he could save that look forever, but he wasn't so sure he was going to want any
reminders when Cupid finally came to his senses and broke up with him. He
tugged his own shirt off and slid onto the mattress next to Cupid, propping
himself up on one arm to run a hand over the younger boy's chest.
"When do ya hafta be back tomorrow?" he asked, watching the progress of his
fingers over Cupid's skin so he wouldn't have to meet the other boy's gaze.
"I’m supposed to be home by dinner time. My mom knows I don’t do any homework
when I’m in the city, so she freaks out if I’m not home early enough to get it
done on Sunday night." Cupid shifted onto his side, catching Strife's hand in
his and entwining their fingers together. "I can come up again next weekend. If
you want."
"If I want? Are ya kiddin' me? Course I want, Cupe. I just wish I didn't hafta
wait five whole days ta see ya."
"Well you can always come down to my house. I haven't exactly told my mom about
you yet, but as soon as I do she's gonna want to meet you."
Strife was pretty sure meeting Cupid's mom would be at least as bad as meeting
his dad, but Cupid looked so hopeful and he knew he was going to have to get it
over with eventually. It was kind of nice that Cupid wanted his parents to know
about Strife; he'd never been with somebody that cared one way or the other
whether or not his family liked him. From what he'd heard about Cupid's mom so
far he had a sinking feeling she was going to be a lot less accepting than Ares
had been; the chances were pretty good that the only reason Ares hadn't thrown
him out of his apartment on sight was because he was Joxer's nephew, and he had
a feeling Cupid’s mom was even more overprotective. Still, they let him come
into the city with his friends, and considering who his friends were maybe it
wouldn’t be that bad.
"I dunno, Cupe. Ya really think she's gonna let ya keep comin' ta the city
aftah she meets me?"
Cupid rolled his eyes and released Strife's hand to slide his own hand behind
the older boy's neck. Once he'd tugged Strife forward so they were close enough
to feel each other's breath he leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on the
other boy's lips before he pulled back to look at Strife again. "Of course she
will. She'll love you, you'll see. She's a couples therapist, she knows a good
relationship when she sees one."
Strife couldn't help laughing at that, because despite the strange
circumstances surrounding the beginning of their relationship, Cupid was right.
Compared to their friends, anyway, they had the most stable relationship of
anyone they knew. "Guess if she lets ya hang out with Auto an' Psyche maybe she
won't freak out too much when she sees me."
"Strife, come on. She'll love you, just like my dad's going to love you as soon
as he gets to know you. Which reminds me, you're supposed to call Joxer
tomorrow. He wants you to come over for dinner this week." Strife swallowed a
sigh at the thought of facing Ares and Joxer alone, but he must not have done a
good job of keeping the fear off his face because Cupid's hand left his neck to
trail through his hair. "My dad doesn't hate you, you know."
He opened his mouth to point out that given time, he was sure Ares would find
all sorts of reasons to dislike him, but the sound of the apartment door
slamming distracted him. They both listened to the sound of a set of keys being
dropped on the kitchen counter, then a pair of footsteps moving toward them.
Strife figured one set of footsteps meant it had to be Iolaus, and when he
heard his roommate pause outside his closed bedroom door he knew he was right.
Hercules wouldn't pause outside his bedroom door; if he had something else to
say he'd just walk right in, he wouldn't care what he interrupted. Iolaus
pausing on his way to the bathroom made Strife wonder what exactly his friend
was thinking, but he didn't really want to dwell on it while Cupid was lying
next to him.
"Doesn't he ever go out? I mean he must date or something," Cupid asked,
drawing Strife's attention away from the door as the footsteps began moving
toward the bathroom again.
Strife shrugged and flattened his palm against Cupid's chest again, circling a
nipple with his index finger and eliciting a breathy moan from the younger boy.
"Usually he just hangs out with Herc. When Herc's got some chick he ditches
Iolaus pretty fast, though. He's been actin' kinda weird since he walked in on
me an' you in the shower, now that ya mention it."
"Do you think maybe he’s jealous?”
“Of what?” Strife asked, frowning as he propped himself up on an elbow to look
down at Cupid.
Cupid’s cheeks turned a flattering shade of pink but he didn’t look away from
Strife, shrugging as well as he could while he was flat on his back. “I don’t
know, the fact that Hercules is actually dating somebody. Or maybe the fact
that we’re in here together, and he’s out there alone.”
“What? Ya think he wishes he was in here?”
“No, nothing like that,” Cupid answered quickly, blushing even harder as he
pushed himself up until he was level with Strife. “Just…you know, he seems kind
of confused. Like he’s not really sure what he wants.”
“Maybe yer right, Cupe, but it’s not like we can do anythin’ about it. I been
tryin’ ta get him to admit he’s not as straight as he pretends fer awhile now,
an’ the closest he’s come ta admittin’ anythin’ is tellin’ Xena he thinks yer
hot.”
“He thinks I’m hot?”
If Cupid hadn’t looked so genuinely shocked Strife might have been jealous;
okay, so he was a little jealous, but he knew after the events of the past few
days that nothing was going to happen between his boyfriend and his roommate.
Cupid was so naïve that it would take Iolaus coming onto him to even give him a
clue, and Iolaus wasn’t that type of guy. In fact he was almost as naïve as
Cupid when it came to stuff like that, a fact that had made Strife feel sorry
for him more than once in the past. “Yeah, Cupe. He’d hafta be blind not ta
notice.”
The bright grin that lit up Cupid’s features made Strife’s heart skip a beat,
and he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the other boy’s just to stop
himself from saying anything he might regret. As soon as Cupid’s lips parted
under his Strife forgot all about Iolaus and the fact that Cupid had to go home
in less than twenty-four hours. His whole world narrowed to the smooth,
insistent press of hot skin against his, soft lips moving against his and the
tingling of his skin everywhere that Cupid’s hands touched him.
Gently he pressed the younger boy back against the pillows, tangling their legs
together and reaching between them to work Cupid’s jeans open. He pulled his
mouth away from Cupid’s to watch him gasp as Strife’s hand slid past the
waistband of his boxers, then he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on
Cupid’s stomach. The muscles under Cupid’s skin rippled reflexively, sending a
wave of desire through both of them as Strife straightened up long enough to
tug Cupid’s jeans and boxers down his thighs.
Once Cupid kicked them off the rest of the way Strife swung one leg over his
thighs and flattened his palms against Cupid’s stomach, watching the motion of
Cupid’s chest as his breathing grew more ragged. And he could probably spend
the rest of his life just watching Cupid breathe, but he had a feeling that
eventually the younger boy was going to demand that he actually do something.
He leaned forward and captured Cupid’s mouth again, groaning as Cupid’s tongue
teased his lips open and a hand clamped down on his neck to hold him in place.
He had no idea where Cupid got the energy after the day they’d had, but he’d
never really been the type to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Instead of pondering Cupid’s energy stores he focused his last few working
brain cells on telling his hand to leave Cupid’s inviting warmth long enough to
dig under the pillow for the lube they’d left there the night before. When he
finally found it he pulled his mouth away from the other boy’s to trail kisses
down the column of Cupid’s throat, grinning against warm skin when Cupid’s
fingers threaded through his hair to urge him back down his chest. He trailed
hot kisses down the center of Cupid’s chest, stopping every time he found a
particularly sensitive spot, until Cupid was panting and murmuring
incoherently.
He had to remind himself not to leave any marks on that golden skin; it was
tempting, but he didn’t want to run the risk of Cupid’s mom seeing them and
deciding he was a bad influence before she even met him. Instead he settled for
tasting every inch of Cupid that he could reach, lingering on his chest long
enough to suck on each nipple before he let Cupid urge him downwards. His
tongue circled the other boy’s belly button, eliciting a low moan and a
reflexive thrust of the hips trapped underneath him as Cupid’s body searched in
vain for some friction.
He traced the outline of one hip bone with his thumb as he ran his tongue along
the soft trail of hair leading from Cupid’s belly button to the thicker, darker
blond patch of hair surrounding his cock. Cupid’s fingers were stroking through
his hair, tightening reflexively every time Strife’s mouth moved closer to the
swollen tip of his cock. He was careful to avoid coming into actual contact
with the other boy’s erection, reaching down with one hand to adjust his own
cock before he moved down to nuzzle the inside of Cupid’s thigh.
“Strife, please,” Cupid gasped, his voice trailing off into a moan when
Strife’s hand closed gently around his balls. “Strife…”
And he loved the sound of his name when Cupid said it that way; he’d do
anything to hear that pleading, needy tone coming from the boy stretched out
underneath him, and he knew if Cupid ever figured that out he’d be screwed.
He’d never be able to deny Cupid anything, but so far he couldn’t think of
anything he’d want to say no to. And Cupid wasn’t really the kind of guy that
made a lot of demands, so if he needed something bad enough to ask for it
Strife was happy to oblige.
He worked the top off the lube with one hand, pausing long enough to squeeze a
little onto his fingers before he dropped the tube back onto the sheet and
closed his hand around the base of Cupid’s cock. A low, tortured groan
punctuated the silence of the room when Strife finally closed his mouth around
Cupid, and he could tell by the way Cupid tensed against him that he wasn’t
going to last long. He squeezed the base of Cupid’s cock as he nudged the
younger boy’s legs a little further apart, pressing two slick fingers against
the entrance to Cupid’s body.
Strife thought he heard Cupid say his name somewhere in whatever else he was
murmuring, but he couldn’t be positive that whatever Cupid was saying was even
English. Slowly he worked his fingers in and out of the other boy, keeping time
with the rhythmic movements of his mouth. When his fingers moved easily in and
out of Cupid he pressed a little deeper, finally finding the spot he knew would
push Cupid over the edge. The first brush of his fingertip over Cupid’s
prostate elicited a startled cry, and when he repeated the action Cupid’s whole
body tensed and Strife had to fight the urge to gag as wet heat hit the back of
his throat. He pulled off a little and swallowed again, using his tongue to
lick Cupid clean before he straightened up and slowly eased his fingers out of
the other boy.
When he looked down at Cupid he was wide-eyed and panting, and Strife couldn’t
resist leaning over to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. As soon
as his lips touched the other boy’s Cupid turned into the kiss, his hand
leaving Strife’s hair to trace the curve of his shoulder blade as he tasted
himself on Strife’s tongue. Strife fumbled blindly on the mattress until he
found the lube again, his fingers curling around the tube. And they definitely
had to go get tested as soon as possible, because he hated having to stop to
find a condom when Cupid was open and willing and way past ready for him.
He wrenched his mouth away from the other boy’s and stared down at him for a
long moment, his chest heaving in time with Cupid’s erratic breathing. He was
so lost in Cupid’s open, trusting gaze that it took him a minute to remember
why he’d pulled away in the first place, but when Cupid’s hips shifted
restlessly under him he groaned and leaned over the edge of the bed to dig
through the piles of clothes on the floor. Finally he found what he was looking
for and straightened up again, tearing the package open and tossing the plastic
somewhere on the floor. He had a fleeting thought about cleaning up the wreck
his room was quickly becoming, but it was gone as soon as Cupid reached up and
pulled the condom out of his fingers.
He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as Cupid rolled the latex over his
painful erection, concentrating on the sound of the blood pounding against his
ears so he wouldn’t lose control and come from that touch alone. A second later
Cupid’s fist was moving rhythmically over his cock, and he realized that the
younger boy had somehow pulled the lube out of his hand without Strife even
noticing. He watched Cupid squeeze a little more onto his fingers, swallowing
hard when Cupid reached between them and spread the slick gel onto the entrance
to his own body. That image alone could keep him hard for the rest of the week,
and when Cupid’s cock stirred against his thigh it was all Strife could do not
to push his hand out of the way and slam into him.
Not that he thought Cupid would really mind, especially when he pushed Strife
off him long enough to pull his knees up and apart. That was more than Strife
could stand, and before he even realized he’d moved he was gripping Cupid’s
ankles, pushing his legs even further apart as he lined himself up and pushed
the head of his cock into pulsing heat. He felt Cupid relax around him almost
instantly, opening to let Strife slide easily inside. When he was buried as
deep inside Cupid as he could get Strife paused, leaning forward for a hard,
almost desperate kiss before he pulled back out and drove into the other boy
again.
He knew he’d never get used to seeing Cupid like this; sweaty and panting, his
back arching into each thrust and his eyes closed tight against the onslaught
of sensations. He’d never get used to the fact that Cupid wanted him to be the
one that made him feel this way, that he wanted Strife enough to keep coming
back for more. And there was definitely no way he’d ever get used to the sight
of his own cock sliding into Cupid’s body, no matter how many times they did
this. In a way he hoped he wouldn’t ever get used to it, though, because he
didn’t ever want to forget how amazing it felt when Cupid looked at him like he
was the only other person on the face of the Earth.
Way too soon he lost the fight for control over his body, burying himself as
deep inside the other boy as he could and collapsing against Cupid’s chest.
When the last wave of his orgasm passed he forced himself up far enough to
capture Cupid’s lips again, their mouths moving together lazily as they both
waited for their breathing to return to normal. Finally he forced himself up
long enough to pull carefully out of Cupid, planting one last soft kiss on
Cupid’s forehead before he pulled the condom off and headed for the bathroom.
He had a feeling Cupid would be asleep when he got back, but he didn’t even
mind. He’d probably never get used to watching Cupid sleep, either, but he was
definitely willing to try.
~
This was the part Cupid hated; not that he’d ever spent a whole weekend with
Strife before, but he’d said goodbye to him a few times now and he had a
feeling it was going to be even harder after spending forty-eight hours
together. When he’d showed up at the club on Friday night he’d been a little
worried that Strife would get sick of him before the weekend was over, but
they’d gotten along so well and had such a good time that Cupid was almost sure
Strife didn’t want him to leave any more than he wanted to.
They’d woken up together sometime after noon, and they’d both avoided the
subject of Cupid’s inevitable departure for as long as they could. In fact,
except for a quick trip to the bathroom they hadn’t even bothered to get out of
bed, and Cupid could definitely get used to spending his Sundays that way. The
day would be perfect if he didn’t have to go catch a train as soon as they
found something to eat, but he was going to be late getting home as it was and
he knew he couldn’t keep putting it off.
A heavy sigh escaped his throat as he pulled one of Strife’s tee shirts over
his head and ran a hand through hair still damp from the shower, listening to
the sound of the shower for a moment before he pulled open the door to Strife’s
room. He knew if he stayed there and listened to the sound of running water he
was going to give in to the temptation to join Strife in the shower, and
considering what had happened the last time he did that he was pretty sure it
would be a bad idea. He wandered down the hall in the direction of the living
room, forgetting about the possibility of Hercules being home until he walked
into the kitchen and saw Iolaus sitting at the table flipping through a
magazine.
“Hey,” Cupid said, smiling shyly when Iolaus glanced up at him. “Mind if I…?”
The older boy shook his head when Cupid gestured toward a chair, looking back
down at the magazine as Cupid pulled the chair out and sat down across from
him. “Where’s Strife?”
“Shower.” Cupid flushed when Iolaus looked up and then right back down again.
“Listen, I’m sorry about that, I didn’t know you guys had a rule.”
“Forget it.” Iolaus shrugged and closed the magazine, pushing it aside and
stealing another quick glance at Cupid. “It’s probably a dumb rule. Like the
‘no dating’ thing.”
“Guess that’s pretty much dead,” Cupid said. When Iolaus nodded Cupid leaned
forward a little, clearing his throat nervously before he continued. “Listen, I
probably shouldn’t ask this, and you can just tell me to mind my own business,
but is there something up with you and Hercules?”
“Me and…Herc?” Iolaus practically choked on his best friend’s name, his cheeks
flushing an alarming shade of red that made Cupid wish he’d kept his mouth
shut. “Why the fuck would you think that?”
“Sorry, I mean I didn’t think you were fucking or anything, just…” This wasn’t
coming out the way he’d planned, not that he’d really planned to start nosing
around in his boyfriend’s friends’ love lives. He couldn’t help feeling sorry
for the guy, though, especially when Cupid was almost sure he was miserable.
“…just that he seems pretty weirded out by me and Strife, and it seems like it
bothers you that it bothers him. You know?”
For a long moment Iolaus just stared at him, and Cupid was starting to wonder
if he’d even understood what he was trying to say when the older boy’s face
fell suddenly. “Strife must hate our fucking guts.”
“Strife? No…at least I don’t think so,” Cupid answered, frowning as he wondered
what he’d said to make Iolaus think that. “Why would he hate you?”
“Because we’re supposed to be his friends and we’ve been total dicks about…you
know. Herc’s been a complete asshole to you since you guys met, and that whole
thing in the bathroom…”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Cupid interrupted, part of him wishing he’d just waited
in Strife’s room. “I mean I don’t care.”
“No, I was an asshole,” Iolaus said. He let out a sigh and looked down at his
hands, his fingers twitching nervously against the table. “I mean I’ve known
forever that Strife’s into guys. I never really thought it was a big deal until
I walked in on you guys. I guess I just wasn’t expecting…”
“What?” Cupid prompted when Iolaus paused, forgetting to feel guilty about
bringing it up in the first place when he heard the hesitation in the other
boy’s voice.
For a moment Iolaus just stared at him with his mouth open, his cheeks blazing
as though whatever he wanted to say was more embarrassing even than walking in
on Cupid and Strife. Finally he let out a breath and shook his head, leaning
back in his chair and looking away. “It’s not important. The point is that Herc
was pissed about Strife breaking his word, so he hooked up with Gabbie and
now…well, Gabbie’s our friend, sort of, but especially Xena, and now it’s just
going to be weird.”
“So you don’t have a crush on Hercules.”
Cupid didn’t think it was possible for Iolaus to blush any harder, but as soon
as the words escaped his lips he found out how wrong he was. “Herc’s so not
into guys,” Iolaus muttered, refusing to meet Cupid’s gaze.
Cupid had been planning to take the question back as soon as he said it, partly
because he knew Strife was going to kill him and partly because he felt bad for
sticking his nose in Iolaus’ business when they didn’t even really know each
other. As soon as he heard Iolaus’ answer he knew he’d been right all along,
though, and he felt even more sorry for the older boy than he had when he first
sat down. He smiled sympathetically when Iolaus stole another glance at him,
letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when the corners of
Iolaus’ mouth twitched.
“Listen, does me staying here bother you? Because…” He trailed off as soon as
he realized that he and Strife didn’t really have anywhere else to go, not if
they wanted any privacy at all.
Iolaus was already shaking his head, though, and Cupid was surprised at how
relieved he felt. “Nah, I mean it’s Strife’s place too. Herc’s never around
anymore anyway, so it’s not like you guys should have to feel weird about being
here.”
“So do you think this thing with Gabbie’s gonna last?”
“Who knows.” The older boy shrugged and relaxed visibly as the conversation
shifted away from Cupid’s sex life. “I mean Herc’s not really the type to
settle down with one chick for long, and considering he was just trying to piss
Strife off I doubt it’s true love or anything. It’s only been a couple days,
it’ll probably blow over soon.”
“It was kind of a shitty thing to do to Xena.”
“Yeah,” Iolaus said, a small sigh escaping his throat before he could stop it.
“Herc’s not a bad guy, at least not most of the time. And it’s not so much that
Strife being gay bugs him, it’s what it would do to the band if he wasn’t so
careful. So when you came along…we moved all the way out here to try to get the
band going, he’s just scared Strife’s gonna get distracted and forget what
we’re doing living in this shitty apartment in the first place.”
Cupid grinned at the description of the apartment, glancing around at the
sparse furnishings before he turned back to Iolaus. “Trust me, it beats living
at home. As soon as I graduate I’m moving to the city, I can’t take much more
of the train ride from here to Neptune.”
As soon as he said it Iolaus glanced past him, and Cupid turned in time to see
Strife heading down the hall toward them. His whole face lit up in a grin as he
pushed his chair back and stood up, sliding an arm around the older boy’s waist
when Strife stopped in front of him. “Ready?” Strife asked, his voice vibrating
against Cupid’s skin.
Cupid was tempted to pout at the mention of leaving Strife’s apartment, but
they still had a little time together and he knew if he didn’t get home at a
reasonable hour his mother wouldn’t let him come into the city next weekend. He
nodded and leaned forward to press his lips against Strife’s jaw, grinning when
he felt a shiver roll through the body pressed against his. When he pulled away
to follow Strife toward the door he glanced back at the table, wondering if
Iolaus’ blush was going to be permanent.
“See you next weekend,” he called over his shoulder, grinning when Iolaus
nodded and waved distractedly. He was almost sure now that Iolaus was at least
curious about other guys, especially if just the sight of Cupid kissing
Strife’s cheek was enough to make his eyes glaze over. There had to be
something they could do to help him figure it out, he just had to figure out a
way to approach the subject without making Strife jealous. Iolaus was a nice
guy and he didn’t deserve to be so unhappy, not when he had friends that could
do something about it.

                         Part Twenty-Two – Invitations
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Auto glanced over at Psyche as she leaned against the locker next to
his; judging by the way she was biting her lip it was obvious she wanted to
talk about something, and after the weekend he had a pretty good idea what it
was. He’d spent most of Sunday avoiding her just so he wouldn’t have to listen
to the ‘just friends’ speech, and the last thing he wanted to do on Monday
morning was listen to her break up with him.
“Where’s Cupid?” he asked, hoping if their friend was around Psyche wouldn’t go
through with it. He knew it was inevitable, but that didn’t mean he wanted to
hear her say the words.
“Haven’t seen him. Listen, Auto, we should talk…”
“There he is,” Auto interrupted, ignoring her frustrated sigh as he waved Cupid
over. He felt a little guilty for blowing her off, but not guilty enough to
actually hear her out. Not first thing in the morning, anyway.
“Hey,” Cupid said when he reached them, frowning suspiciously as he glanced at
first Auto and then Psyche. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” Auto answered before Psyche had a chance. “So how’d your dad like
the show?”
“My dad? He liked it okay, I guess. It’s not really his kind of music. I just
thought Joxer might want to see Strife sing.”
“Joxer? Why?”
“He’s Strife’s uncle,” Cupid answered, casting another quick glance at Psyche.
“Don’t you guys ever talk?”
“We haven’t had much chance,” Psyche interjected. “Speaking of which…”
"Joxer's Strife's uncle? Whoa, what are the chances of that," Auto said,
slinging an arm around Cupid's shoulders as he led him down the hall away from
Psyche. He'd heard them talking about it at the club when they thought he
wasn't listening, but he wasn't about to let on that he'd heard part of their
conversation. If he did Psyche might figure out that he already knew what she
was trying to get at, and then there would be no avoiding it. He wasn't even
sure why he was trying to avoid breaking up with her, but as soon as she said
it out loud it would be real and it seemed to him that the longer he put it off
the easier the rest of the school year would be.
Okay, and there was a small part of him that just liked messing with her to see
how far he could push her before she got really mad, but that had always been
the way they interacted. So in a way he was just upholding his end of their
friendship, and when she got tired of it she'd let him know in one way or
another. In a way he was hoping to avoid the conversation altogether; he didn't
see any reason they couldn't just go on the way things had always been, and if
they didn't sleep together anymore it was no big deal. It didn't have to be,
anyway, because even though Psyche was a girl she'd never been the type to get
all weird and emotional on him about stuff like this. That was the whole reason
he'd spent so much time with her during high school, and he didn't see any
reason they couldn't just go on being friends.
He half-listened to Cupid's rambling explanation of how he and Strife
discovered that they were sort of already family, and even though he thought
that was a bit of a stretch he didn't point it out. His friend sounded thrilled
that his boyfriend had turned out to be related to his dad's boyfriend, and if
Cupid thought that was a good thing Auto wasn't going to burst his bubble. He'd
find out sooner or later that it wasn't nearly as cool as he thought it was
going to be, but that wasn't the kind of thing you could tell people. There
were certain things they just had to learn the hard way, and Cupid was one of
those optimistic types that probably wouldn't listen even if Auto did try to
warn him.
"That's great, Cupe," Auto said vaguely when the other boy paused. He glanced
over his shoulder to make sure Psyche was still behind them, turning away the
second their eyes met. "Listen, I gotta run. Last-minute homework, you know.
Catch you guys later."
He turned down the hall in the direction of his homeroom without waiting for an
answer, leaving behind a frustrated and angry-looking Psyche, and an equally
confused-looking Cupid. "What was that all about?" Cupid asked as he watched
Auto disappear down the hall, oblivious to the look on Psyche's face.
"He's avoiding me, that's what it's about," she answered, crossing her arms
over her chest as she watched her boyfriend practically run down the hall.
"Avoiding you? Did you guys have a fight or something?" Cupid asked, finally
turning to look at his friend.
"Not exactly." A frustrated sigh escaped Psyche's throat as she turned back to
Cupid, her shoulders falling when she took in his concerned expression.
"Listen, Cupe, this is just between us for now, okay?"
"Yeah, sure, Psyche. Of course."
"Good." She smiled reassuringly at him and looped an arm through his, dragging
him out of the flow of traffic before she continued. "The truth is I've been
thinking about breaking up with Auto."
"Really?" Cupid blinked back his shock and glanced down the hall in the
direction the other boy had disappeared. "But you guys have been
together…forever."
She stopped just short of rolling her eyes, dropping his arm and glancing
around to make sure no one was eavesdropping before she turned to face him
again. "It feels that way, anyway. Look, I know it seems like this is coming
out of left field, but the truth is that it's been coming for awhile now. Auto
knows it, that's why he's avoiding me. He just doesn't want to deal with it
because once we're not a couple anymore he has to deal with what he really
wants."
"Which is…?"
This time she did roll her eyes, but she stopped just short of saying 'you,
doofus'. That was the best answer to the question, but she couldn't just blurt
it out after she'd spent over a month protecting him from the truth. And anyway
she wasn't a hundred percent sure that Auto was in love with Cupid anymore; she
was starting to think that maybe he'd just latched onto Cupid because he was a
safe guy to have a crush on, and now that Cupid was off the market he was
scared to move on to somebody that could actually develop into something.
"Not me, that's for sure," she finally answered. "Look, Cupe, just do me a
favor and don't tell him I told you this. I'll corner him eventually, I just
have to wait until his guard's down."
"Sure, Psyche," he said. "Listen, are you sure you don't want me to talk to
him? I could maybe drop a few hints…"
"No," Psyche answered a little too forcefully. When she saw Cupid flinch she
smiled as gently as she could and shook her head. "Sorry. It's alright, I need
to do it myself. Anyway you've got enough going on already. How're things going
with Strife?"
"Amazing," Cupid answered, a dreamy smile lighting up his features at the
mention of his boyfriend's name. Psyche couldn't help grinning back at him when
he smiled that way; she knew exactly how it felt to be infatuated with someone,
and she was happy for him that it was working out. "He's coming down to meet
Mom this week."
"You told your mom about him?"
"Not yet," Cupid said, frowning when he caught the skeptical expression on his
friend's face. "Why does everybody think she's going to freak out? She's going
to love him."
Psyche shrugged and swallowed the urge to argue with him. "Whatever you say,
Cupe, she's your mom. You would know. So are you gonna invite him to the
graduation party?"
"Is it okay?"
She rolled her eyes again and gave him a playful smack on his bicep. "Of course
it's okay, moron. It's my party and you're one of my best friends. If you want
to bring your boyfriend you should. In fact, he should bring Xena and the guys
if he wants. Well, maybe not the thick-necked one."
Cupid laughed and pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning against,
sliding an arm around her shoulders to lead her down the hall in the direction
of their classrooms. "Somehow I doubt Hercules would be interested in a high
school graduation party. I bet the others would come, though. Iolaus could use
a little fun, even if it is just hanging out with a bunch of kids."
"What's wrong with Iolaus?" she asked, frowning up at him as they stopped in
front of her homeroom.
"Nothing, he just seems a little lonely," Cupid answered, letting go of her and
shifting his books into his other arm as he backed down the hall. "See you
later, Psyche."
"Yeah, see you," she called after him, watching him go until she couldn't see
him anymore. Something told her there was more to Cupid's interest in Iolaus
than he was saying, but she didn't think she really wanted to know what it was.
~
When he heard the door open Cupid tensed, then he blushed and forced himself to
relax again. There was no reason to be nervous, he'd been telling everyone for
days that his mother was going to love Strife. She knew he was gay so the
biggest hurdle was already past, and she wanted him to be happy. He knew she
did, and as soon as she saw how happy Strife made him she'd be fine with it. He
listened as his mother dropped her keys on the table next to the front door and
headed toward the kitchen, mumbling to herself as she thumbed through the mail.
"Hey, Mom," Cupid said, grinning as casually as he could when she looked up
from the stack of bills. "Wow, you look great. Is that dress new?"
She frowned and dropped the mail on the table, setting her purse and briefcase
down next to the stack of envelopes. "Alright, what'd you do?"
"Do? Nothing," Cupid answered, working up the most convincing pout he could
manage. "Can't a guy just give you a compliment for no reason?"
"A guy, yes. My seventeen-year-old son, no." She grinned when he gave her a
look of mock hurt and turned away from him to reach into the fridge for two
sodas. He took the one she offered him and watched her sink into the chair
across from him, holding his breath as he waited for her to settle in for an
explanation. "So what's up? You've already asked about going to your father's
this weekend, so I know it's not that. You didn't get suspended for something
those friends of yours did, did you?"
He stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the way she said the word
'friends'; he was fairly convinced that she didn't really hate them, at least
not as blatantly as his father did. In fact sometimes he thought she might
actually like Psyche, but Auto seemed to have a negative affect on parents no
matter what he did. Cupid figured it had something to do with the leather, or
possibly the amount of metal in his ears. Which wasn't going to endear Strife
to her, but if she knew how much Cupid liked him maybe she'd at least give him
a shot.
"I didn't get suspended," he answered, swallowing a grin when she let out a
dramatic sigh and took a sip from her soda.
"Okay, well it's too late in the year for you to be failing any classes. Oh
God, that's it, isn't it? You're failing something."
"Mom, relax," Cupid said, reaching to pull her soda out of the way as he
watched her start to panic. "It doesn't have anything to do with school. I met
someone."
Okay, that wasn't exactly the way he'd planned to break it to her, but it at
least had an interesting affect. She'd gone completely silent, anyway, and if
he wasn’t mistaken she was doing an impression of the fish he'd killed when he
was six by trying to share his Kool-Aid with it. "Mom, breathe."
"You…what do you mean, you met someone? Someone at school?"
"No, Mom. Somebody in the city." He knew that word was going to set her off
faster than anything else he could have said, but he wasn't sure how else to
put it. It wasn't like he could say that Joxer had introduced them, and if he
brought up his father it might just make things worse. "He's great, Mom. You'll
love him."
"Where…in the city did you meet…what's his name?"
"Strife," Cupid said, holding his breath as he prayed she wouldn't ask his last
name yet. He'd break that part to her as soon as she got used to the idea of
him having a boyfriend. Which might take a little longer than he'd predicted,
judging by the color of her face. "He sings in a band that Auto took us to
see."
"You're dating somebody you met in a club? Oh, Cupid," she said, her expression
instantly turning sympathetic. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd been expecting,
but pity wasn't it. There was no reason for her to feel sorry for him unless
she thought he couldn't take care of himself, and he didn't want to believe
that his own mother thought he was as naïve as everyone else did.
"What? So I met him in a club, what's the big deal? It's been a month, Mom.
It's not like I'm just some groupie."
"A month? You've been seeing this person for a month and you're just telling me
now?"
As soon as he realized what he'd said he flushed and looked away, wishing there
was a way to press rewind and start the whole conversation over from the
beginning. "Well at first it wasn't really anything, and then things just sort
of happened. It's kind of a long story."
"Does your father know about this?"
Her tone let him know exactly what she was asking, and he rolled his eyes as he
turned to look at her again. "Yes, he knows, and no, he wasn't helping me hide
anything. He just met Strife this weekend, and I was going to invite him down
for dinner to meet you this week."
"Well at least now I know why you've been spending so much time in the city
lately," she muttered half to herself. She pushed her chair back and stood up,
crossing to the counter to pull her favorite cookbook off a shelf. When she
returned to the table she set it down and folded her hands on top of it,
leaning forward and fixing him with her most serious expression. "You are being
safe, aren't you? I know we've talked about it but sometimes when people get
caught up in the heat of the moment…"
"Mom," he moaned, his cheeks flushing as she launched into her safe sex speech.
"Please tell me you're not going to do this when Strife's here."
She rolled her eyes and flipped the cookbook open, flipping to the index as she
muttered to herself. "Honestly, I don't know what the big deal is. You kids can
practically take off all your clothes in public and simulate sex on a dance
floor, but you can't talk about it with your own parents. It's not like I'm not
a professional."
"Just please promise me you're not going to do this when he's here."
"Fine, I promise," she said, letting out an exaggerated sigh and looking up at
him again. "Wednesday's best for me. I have group Thursday night and on Friday
I'm going out."
He raised an eyebrow but swallowed the question when she arched an elegant
eyebrow right back at him. "Okay, none of my business. I'm gonna go call Strife
and ask him if he can make it." He leaned down and planted a quick kiss on her
cheek before he bolted for the relative safety of his bedroom, barely
remembering to breathe until he closed the door behind him. He leaned back
against it for a long moment while he caught his breath, then he forced his
eyes open and crossed to his bed to pick up the phone and dial Strife's number.
"Hello?"
"Is Strife there?" he asked when the voice sounded on the other end of the
line.
"No, he's out…Cupid? That you?"
"Yeah. Hey, Iolaus," Cupid said, swallowing a sigh of relief that Hercules
hadn't answered the phone.
"He's at his uncle's. Said something about dinner," Iolaus said. "Hey, is it
true his uncle lives with your dad?"
"Yeah. Small world," Cupid answered. "Thanks, Iolaus."
"Sure thing. Catch you later, Cupid."
He hung up and dialed his father's phone number, his heart pounding a little
harder at the thought of Strife alone with his father and Joxer. Granted if
they were going to tell embarrassing stories about him they wouldn't have any
problems at all doing it while he was sitting right there, but at least he'd be
able to defend himself. When the line connected he took a deep breath, waiting
impatiently while Joxer said something to Ares before he answered the phone.
"Hey, Joxer. It's Cupid."
"Hi, Cupid. Your dad's right here."
"Actually I was looking for Strife. Iolaus said he was at your place."
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, then Joxer cleared his
throat and Cupid was almost sure he was trying not to laugh. "Sure, Cupid. He's
playing the piano. Hang on just a second, I'll get him."
It felt like forever before Strife finally picked up the phone, but according
to Cupid's alarm clock it was less than two minutes. When the other boy
answered he sounded more than a little nervous, and Cupid couldn't help
wondering if it was a bad idea to call Strife while he was at Ares' and Joxer's
place. "Cupe?"
"Hey," Cupid said, relaxing marginally at the sound of the other boy's voice.
"Iolaus told me where you were."
"Yeah? I'll hafta remember ta say thanks." Cupid could hear the smile in
Strife's voice, and he felt the rest of his nervous tension ease out of him as
he stretched out on his bed. "So what's up?"
"My mom wants you to come for dinner on Wednesday," Cupid answered. "Think you
can make it?"
He heard a muffled inhale on the other end of the line, then Strife cleared his
throat and Cupid couldn't help smiling at the fact that his boyfriend was
nervous about meeting his mom. "Uh…yeah, I think I can get the van. Ya sure she
wants ta feed me? I mean I could just swing by or somethin'…"
"Strife." Cupid waited until he was sure the other boy wasn't going to start
babbling again before he continued. "She wants to feed you, trust me. Besides,
I want to see you. So you'll be here? Say around 6:00?"
"Yeah, sure, Cupe. 6:00. No problem."
"Good. I'll see you then. And Strife?"
"Yeah?"
"Do me a favor and tell my dad I said hi." Cupid grinned as he pictured Ares'
expression when he realized Cupid wasn't going to ask for him, hanging up the
phone and folding his arms behind his head to stare up at the ceiling. If
anyone had asked him a few months ago if he thought his life could be as
perfect as it was he would have laughed at them, but now he couldn't imagine a
single thing that could make it better. Well, there was the whole commuting to
the city thing, but he had plans to fix that problem as soon as he graduated.
Once that was taken care of his life really would be perfect, and there was
nothing anybody could do to ruin it.

                     Part Twenty-Three – Mighty Aphrodite
Strife hung up the phone and stared down at it for a long moment, his heart
pounding against his chest as he wondered what he'd just agreed to. He liked
the fact that Cupid wanted to see him in the middle of the week; more than
that, he loved it, because he'd been thinking about Cupid pretty much non-stop
since they said goodbye the day before. Hanging out at his uncle's place where
there were pictures of Cupid everywhere he looked didn't really help, and it
had been such a thrill to hear his boyfriend's voice on the other end of the
line that he hadn't really thought about what he was agreeing to until he hung
up.
He snapped out of it when a hand landed on his shoulder, looking up in time to
find his uncle frowning thoughtfully at him. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," he answered, swallowing hard against a fresh rush of nerves when he
glanced over at Ares and found the other man watching him. "Cupe wants me ta
meet his mom on Wednesday."
He didn't miss the glance the two older men exchanged, and his heart sank a
little further into his stomach as he sank into a kitchen chair and ran his
hands through his hair. "She's gonna hate me, isn't she?"
"No," Joxer answered too quickly, sinking into the chair next to Strife and
patting his shoulder reassuringly. "Dite's a wonderful person, and I'm sure
she'll see how much you and Cupid care about each other. She's very
perceptive."
Strife was tempted to ask how somebody that was so perceptive could have missed
the fact that her husband was gay all those years, but he bit his tongue before
he said anything he'd regret. "What if she does hate me, though? Ya think she's
gonna let Cupe come all the way ta the city knowin' he's comin' ta see me?"
"She doesn't really have a choice," Ares interjected, his deep voice surprising
Strife and Joxer into looking up. He shrugged when he met Joxer's gaze,
clearing his throat before he turned his attention to Strife. "Until Cupid's
eighteen we share custody of him. And after his eighteenth birthday she won't
be able to tell him what to do at all. But I doubt she'd forbid him to come
into the city just because he's dating. She knew it would happen eventually."
Joxer grinned at Ares before turning his attention back to his nephew, running
a soothing hand over the younger man's hair. "Ares is right, Dite's a
reasonable person. Besides, she's probably just as relieved as Ares was that
he's not dating Auto."
Strife flinched at the mention of Cupid's best friend. "Why would he be datin'
Auto?"
"He wouldn't," Joxer answered, his eyebrows raised at Strife's defensive tone.
"They just spend so much time together that for awhile we were a little worried
that eventually they'd end up together. Whenever Auto got done using that poor
girl to pretend he's not gay."
A soft chuckle surprised him into looking up again, and he couldn't help the
grin that formed when he saw Ares shaking his head. "He's young, he'll grow out
of it."
"Ares, did you just defend Auto?" Joxer asked.
Ares shrugged and turned back to the stove. "I'm just saying he's probably
confused, not that I think he'd be a good match for Cupid."
Joxer opened his mouth to answer, but before they got so lost in their argument
that they forgot he was even there Strife cleared his throat. "I feel fer the
guy, but can we get back ta me here? What do ya even wear ta meet somebody's
mom?"
"Depends on the mom," Joxer answered, stealing one last glance at the back of
Ares' head before he stood up. He took a moment to look Strife over, frowning
thoughtfully as he sized up his nephew. "You're probably too thin for any of
the clothes Cupid keeps here. Anyway Dite would recognize them, she bought most
of them. I might have something that would fit you, though. Come on."
Strife followed Joxer out of the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder to see if
Ares was watching them as he followed the other man toward the back of the
apartment. He waited until they were in the master bedroom to ask any
questions, sinking onto the edge of the bed and watching while Joxer dug
through a closet for the right thing to impress Cupid's mother. "Hey Unc?"
"Yes?" Joxer asked, glancing over his shoulder long enough to raise an eyebrow
at Strife.
"Everythin' okay with you an' Ares? I didn't say anythin' ta mess things up,
did I?"
"No, of course not," Joxer answered without looking at him. Finally he found
the shirt he was looking for and held it out, frowning at it for a long moment
before he reached into the closet again. "I was just surprised to hear him
finally admit that he has something in common with Auto. To tell you the truth,
I think that's why he's always disapproved of that friendship. He and Cupid's
mother were together for a long time, and she finally kicked him out. If she
hadn't found out the hard way that he was attracted to men they might still be
married."
"Yeah, Cupe mentioned that." Strife took the shirt Joxer handed him, setting it
on the bed while he pulled his tee shirt over his head. He stood up and picked
up the gray button-down, stopping short of rolling his eyes at the conservative
shirt.
"Oh my…Strife, what did you do to yourself?"
"What?" Strife frowned down at his chest to make sure there was nothing out of
the ordinary before he craned his neck to try to get a look at his back. "What,
did somebody elbow me too hard at the club or somethin'?"
Joxer shook his head and dropped a blue shirt on the bed, shaking his head as
he looked his nephew up and down again. "I meant your tattoos. I guess it
really has been a long time since I saw you last."
Strife smirked when he realized it wasn't a bruise or a hickey making his uncle
look so horrified, reaching down to work on the buttons of the shirt. "It
started with just the arm band. Things just sorta happened from there, ya know?
It's kinda tough ta stop once ya get started."
"That’s interesting logic. Your mother must have had a cow when she saw all
this."
"Nah, she doesn't care. She wasn't that thrilled 'bout the piercings, though."
Strife grinned as he finished buttoning the shirt, shaking out the sleeves to
judge the length before he turned in a circle. "So? Ya think this is the right
look ta impress Cupe's mom?"
"You don't have to worry about impressing Dite," Joxer answered, but from his
tone Strife could tell his uncle was just trying to make him feel better. "Just
don't take off your shirt and you'll be fine."
Strife let out a weary sigh when Joxer handed him the blue shirt, slipping the
gray shirt off and handing it back to his uncle. "It doesn't matter, she's
gonna hate me."
"She's not going to hate you," Joxer assured him. "If she can forgive me for
getting Ares to move out of the loft above his karate studio and settling down
then she'll get over the fact that you're dating her son. Besides, she's had a
few years to get used to the idea that Cupid's going to be dating. He was bound
to bring someone home eventually."
"Yeah, but she was probably expectin' somebody younger. Like maybe somebody
that's still in high school."
Joxer sighed and took a few steps toward him, tugging on the collar of the
shirt until he was satisfied that it was hanging evenly. "You're worrying too
much. It's just a couple years, it's not like Cupid's bringing home someone
twice his age. Besides, she already knows part of your family, that'll make her
feel better."
"Does she know about Pop?"
"You're not your father, Strife." Joxer laid a hand on each of Strife's
shoulders, waiting until the younger man looked up at him before he continued.
"She's not going to hold that against you."
"Come on, Unc, how could she not? It's one thing fer you an' Ares, she's
probably glad ta have him off her hands. But Cupid's her kid."
A smirk tugged at the corners of Joxer's mouth, but he swallowed it as quickly
as it appeared and cleared his throat. "Dite's a very interesting woman. You
might be surprised at how well you get along with her." He smiled at Strife's
skeptical look, patting his nephew on the shoulder before he stood back to
study the image he presented. "Definitely the blue one."
"Thanks, Unc," Strife said as he unbuttoned the shirt and pulled his tee shirt
back on.
"My pleasure. Have you thought about what we talked about last time you were
here?"
"I dunno. Ya think he'd really wanna see me?"
"Strife, he's your father. Of course he wants to see you." Joxer sighed again
when Strife frowned at him, hanging the gray shirt back in the closet before he
turned back to the other man. "You don't have to decide right now. I'm not
trying to put any pressure on you, Strife. But he'd like to see you. It's been
a long time."
"Yeah, alright," Strife muttered, carefully folding the shirt Joxer had lent
him before he followed his uncle back out of the room. The truth was that he
hadn't thought much about Joxer's suggestion that they go back to Detroit and
visit his father since the last time he'd been there; he'd been so busy
thinking about Cupid and worrying about what was going to happen between them
that he'd managed to forget all about it. He didn't really want to think about
it, because thinking about it meant making a decision. Part of him almost
wanted to go, if for no other reason than to see if his old man lived up to his
memories. The rest of him was terrified about reconnecting with someone who had
become a stranger to him, so he'd been avoiding making the decision.
He followed Joxer back into the kitchen, managing a weak grin when Ares set a
plate down in front of him. "Find something that you can use?" Ares asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Strife answered, glancing over at Joxer and matching his
smile. "Now I just hafta get through the next two days."
~
Cupid jumped when the doorbell rang, practically vaulting off the couch in his
effort to beat his mother to the front door. He'd been completely useless all
day at school, and even his teachers had eventually given up on trying to keep
his mind on schoolwork. The day had dragged mercilessly, and when he finally
got home time had slowed down even more. He was sure he was going to go crazy
waiting for Strife to show up, and when the doorbell finally rang he didn't
even care if he looked too anxious.
He pulled the door open and immediately sucked in a sharp breath; it was
Strife, alright, but he looked…different. The wild spikes were almost tame, and
at least half the metal that usually adorned Strife's ear was missing. He was
wearing a blue cotton button-down that matched his eyes almost perfectly, and
Cupid was almost positive the black pants he was wearing had been ironed.
Either that or they were brand-new, because there was definitely a crease. The
only thing Cupid did recognize about the man standing before him was his ratty
black high-tops, and Cupid found himself breathing a sigh of relief that at
least Strife's shoes were recognizable.
"What?" Strife asked, his voice betraying his nervousness as he waited for
Cupid to shut his mouth and let him in.
"Sorry, you just…you look different. I mean you look good, but…different."
"Borrowed a shirt from Unc," Strife said, smoothing a pale hand self-
consciously over his chest. "I look like a total dork, huh?"
All Cupid could manage was a shake of his head as he closed a hand around
Strife's arm and pulled him over the threshold, kicking the door shut before he
wrapped his arms around the smaller man and breathed in the clean scent of
shampoo and Strife. "You look great," Cupid breathed against the other boy's
neck, stifling a sigh when he felt Strife's arms circle his waist to draw him
even closer. "You don't have to try to impress my mom, though. She's gonna be
crazy about you."
He had a feeling Strife didn't believe him, but he was happy to say it over and
over again until it finally sank in. It didn't matter what his mother thought
anyway; he wasn't about to give up Strife no matter what anyone said, so his
mother's opinion of his boyfriend was the last thing on his mind. He'd been
jumpy and nervous all day because he'd been anticipating this moment, and now
that Strife was within touching distance again he didn't care what happened.
"Ya sure this is a good idea, Cupe?" Strife asked, pulling back to meet Cupid's
gaze. "I mean yer mom could walk in here any second…"
Cupid grinned and leaned forward, pressing his lips to the other boy's to shut
him up before he made himself any more nervous than he already was. He felt
Strife tense against him, but before long he forgot why he was worried long
enough to bury his hands in Cupid's hair and kiss him back. When they parted
Cupid was flushed and slightly breathless, a grin lighting up his features. "I
missed that."
"Yeah?" The other boy looked genuinely surprised, and Cupid had the sudden urge
to push him up against the door and show him exactly how much he'd missed him.
He knew even his mother wouldn't go for that, though, and he didn't want to
start the evening off on the wrong foot.
"Yeah," he answered, smiling when Strife flushed a little and looked away.
"Don't worry about my mom, Strife. She's totally cool with this, honest. She
just wants to meet you."
"Bein' cool with yer kid havin' a boyfriend and walkin' in on 'em is two
different things, Cupe."
"Strife, she's a couples therapist. She's seen everything, believe me," Cupid
said, but he let go of the other boy and took a step backwards, admiring the
way his shirt brought out his eyes for another moment before he caught Strife's
hand and led him toward the kitchen. "You should wear that color more often."
Strife was still looking down at his shirt in confusion when Cupid pushed open
the kitchen door and led him through, clearing his throat and waiting until his
mother looked up from her dinner preparations. "Mom, this is Strife. Strife,
this is my mom."
"Strife…that's such an unusual name."
"Yeah, and Cupid's so normal," Cupid muttered, but his mother ignored him as
she crossed the kitchen to take Strife's hand.
"Nice ta meet ya, missus…"
"Just call me Dite," Aphrodite said, pushing Strife into the nearest chair
before she moved back to the range and pulled the oven door open. "Where do you
go to school, Strife?"
Cupid flinched and sank into the chair closest to Strife, doing his best to
ignore the confused look the other boy sent him. "I don't. I was, but then I
dropped out."
He flinched again when he saw the flicker of shock in his mother's eyes,
imagining the lecture she was already coming up with on the importance of
education. He knew she'd find a way to bring up all his old friends from back
when he used to be a complete nerd; he just hoped she'd wait until Strife left
to get into that.
"Oh? And your parents…they don't mind?"
"My old man doesn't have much ta say 'bout what I do. Neither does my mom. Not
since I moved ta New York, anyway."
"Mom," Cupid interrupted before his mother had a chance to ask any more
questions, "Strife's from Detroit. He moved out here with his band just before
we met."
"I see," she answered slowly, her forehead creasing as she glanced from one boy
to the other. "So you're on your own?"
"Since I was eighteen," Strife answered. He shot Cupid another look, but this
time it wasn't so much confusion as a mixture of resignation and betrayal. "I
graduated from high school a coupla years ago. Did a year at community college,
then the band started ta take off and I dropped out."
Cupid held his breath while he waited for his mother's reaction; he hadn't
exactly been hiding their age difference from her, the truth was that it had
just slipped his mind. Granted it was only a couple of years, but his parents
could be weird about stuff like that and he knew if she thought he'd purposely
withheld information she'd be mad.
"So you're out here all alone? No wonder you're so thin. Cupid, you should have
brought Strife over for dinner before now. Someone's got to feed him," Dite
said, setting a lasagna down on the table and reaching for Strife's plate. She
sent a sharp glance in Cupid's direction that let him know that wasn't the end
of the conversation, but at least she wasn't going to make a big deal out of it
in front of Strife. Cupid sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the god of cool
parents and handed his plate over, reaching under the table to catch Strife's
hand while his mother was preoccupied with filling their plates.
"I've got an aunt that lives in the city," Strife said, dropping Cupid's hand
when Dite set an overflowing plate of food in front of him. "She's not much of
a cook, though. Cupe's dad, though…he can cook."
"So you've met Ares and Joxer?"
Cupid could tell by his mother's carefully controlled smile that she wasn't
thrilled to hear that they'd already had dinner at his father's place, and he
wished belatedly that he'd told her up front that Strife and Joxer were
related. It didn't seem like anything more than a weird coincidence until he
thought about his mother's reaction the first time Joxer had come down to
Neptune to meet her, and thinking back on it he knew he should have at least
prepared her.
"Funny thing, Mom. It turns out that Joxer's actually Strife's uncle. Small
world, huh?"
Dite's hand froze in mid-air, her fingers clutching her fork a little harder
than necessary. She swallowed and looked over at Cupid, raising her eyebrows in
an expression he knew all too well before she turned back to Strife again. "I
should have guessed. I can see the family resemblance. But didn't you say you
two met in a club?"
"Yes," Cupid answered quickly, stealing a quick glance at Strife as he prayed
the other boy would forgive him for handling this so badly. His mother had been
the last thing on his mind for the past few days, and now that he had them both
in the same room he was realizing how much he'd done wrong. There was so much
about being in a relationship that he didn't know yet, and so far he'd managed
to screw up almost everything about Strife's first meeting with his mother. "We
didn't figure it out until this weekend."
"Well that's quite a coincidence," she said, folding her hands in front of her
as she watched the two of them push their food around on their plates. "Joxer's
been so good for Ares, don't you think, Cupid? Your dad's a whole new man these
days."
"Yeah, Joxer's great," Cupid said. "Runs in the family."
"I'm sure it does." Dite flashed a bright smile at Strife and picked up her
fork again. "You'll have to tell me all about this band of yours, Strife. And
don't forget to save room for dessert, I made Cupid's favorite."

                         Part Twenty-Four – Matchmaker
"Yer favorite dessert's got mini marshmallows in it?" Strife leaned close to
Cupid, dropping his voice to a whisper so Dite wouldn't overhear him. His own
mother came up with some weird food, but this was out there even for her.
Dinner at their house usually consisted of whatever wasn't frozen to the bottom
of the freezer, and dessert was practically unheard of.
"Since I was a kid she's thought this was my favorite," Cupid answered,
flashing an apologetic grin when he looked over at Strife. "To tell you the
truth I've always thought it was kind of gross, but I never had the heart to
tell her."
"What's it called?" Strife wrinkled his nose at the gelatinous mass of white in
front of him, poking at what might have been part of a tiny orange with his
fork.
"Ambrosia salad."
Strife frowned down at it for another moment before finally spearing an orange
and lifting it to his mouth. And the funny thing was that it tasted…not that
bad. It was pretty sweet, but he’d always enjoyed a good sugar rush and it had
been a long time since anybody had made a big fuss over him. Cupid’s parents
were nothing like his own mother, and the fact that they weren’t together
anymore just meant twice as many invitations to dinner. That was, if they
didn’t forbid Cupid to ever see him again. He still hadn’t decided what Dite
thought of him, although so far she’d actually been nice. She seemed interested
in what he had to say, anyway, and that was more than he could say for most of
the parents he’d been introduced to in his life.
“You don’t have to eat it.”
“I like it,” he said, glancing over at Cupid in time to catch the other boy’s
vaguely disgusted expression. “What? It’s good.”
Cupid just grimaced and shook his head, shoving his own dish a little closer to
his boyfriend. “You can have mine too, then. Mom’s really gonna love you if
you’ll eat anything she puts in front of you.”
The idea of Cupid’s mother actually liking him hadn’t even entered Strife’s
mind; he’d been so busy worrying about how much she was going to hate him that
it had never dawned on him that she might trust Cupid’s judgment. His own
mother never liked any of his friends, even the ones that he thought were
pretty normal. She’d never liked Iolaus or Herc, and the only reason she put up
with Xena was because Xena’s mom was Eris’ sister. He'd decided a long time ago
that she just didn't like kids much, and once they'd all grown up she just
forgot to notice that they were adults now.
He stole a quick glance at Cupid’s mother as she shut the dishwasher and
crossed back to the table, folding her legs under her as she sat down across
from them. She smiled at him and he couldn’t help grinning back at her,
gesturing with his fork toward his bowl. “This is great.”
“Thank you, Strife. You haven’t said much about your family since you got here.
I’m sure you must miss home, being so far away.”
“Nah,” he answered, shrugging and stealing a quick glance at Cupid. The last
thing he wanted to do was tell her about his family, but he wasn’t sure how
much she’d already heard from Joxer. Chances were she already knew the truth
about his dad and she was just waiting to see if he’d admit it. “I was never
real close ta my mom, and I haven’t seen my old man since he got sent up. That
was when I was just a kid. Unc’s been bugging me ta go back ta Detroit an’
visit him, though.”
He felt Cupid tense next to him, frowning as he stole a quick glance at the
other boy. Maybe he shouldn’t have just tossed it out there like it was no big
deal, but if Cupid had wanted him to keep it a secret he should have mentioned
it. He couldn’t ask what was wrong while Dite was sitting right there, though,
and he wasn’t sure he was going to get another chance to talk to Cupid alone
before the weekend.
“I think I remember Ares mentioning something about that,” Dite said,
surprising Strife into looking back at her. She didn’t seem bothered by the
revelation that his father was in prison, at least, and he wasn’t sure if he
should consider that a good thing or a bad thing. “Back when he first started
dating Joxer. Lord, that was ages ago. It’s hard to believe they’ve been
together four years, isn’t it, Cupid?”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah,” Cupid answered distractedly, tearing his gaze away from Strife
long enough to look over at his mother. “Mom, Strife doesn’t want to talk about
his parents. He’s gotta head back soon anyway.”
“Okay, okay, I can take a hint.” Dite rolled her eyes and stood up again. “Go
on, you two. Strife, don’t be a stranger.”
Strife stammered a thanks in Dite’s general direction as Cupid hauled him out
of his chair, stumbling a little when the other boy ushered him out of the
kitchen and toward the stairs that led to his bedroom. He could tell something
was bothering Cupid, but he didn’t get why the younger boy was so upset that
he’d brought up his father. Dite had asked him about his family, after all, and
it wasn’t like he could lie to her about it. “Cupe, what’s the deal?” he asked
once he found himself in Cupid’s bedroom.
“So are you going?”
“Goin’ where?” Strife asked, frowning as he watched Cupid cross his arms over
his chest.
“Back to Detroit. You just said Joxer was trying to talk you into going to
visit your father.”
It was hard not to laugh when he figured out what Cupid was so worked up about,
but it was such a relief to know that they weren’t about to have another fight
that he couldn’t stop the grin that formed. “Is that what yer so uptight about?
I thought ya were pissed I brought up my old man at all.”
“Of course not,” Cupid answered. His frown deepened but his shoulders relaxed a
little as he inched a little closer. “I’m not trying to hide anything from my
mom, Strife. Besides, she doesn’t care about stuff like that. She knows better
than anybody that what your parents do doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
He felt his grin grow a little wider and he knew he must look like a complete
idiot, but he couldn’t stop it so he finally gave up trying and leaned forward
to brush his lips across Cupid’s cheek. “Yer really somethin’, ya know?”
He watched Cupid roll his eyes and let out a little huff of air before he
slowly uncrossed his arms to pull Strife closer. "So are you going or not?"
"I don't know yet, Cupe. He just asked me about it when we were over there. Unc
seems ta think Pop wants ta see me."
"Well he is your father. He probably wonders what you're doing," Cupid said.
"How come you didn't tell me about it this weekend?"
Strife didn’t really have an answer for that, at least not one he could say out
loud to Cupid. The truth was that he hadn't really thought Cupid would care,
and he definitely hadn't been expecting such a strong reaction. "'Cause it
doesn't matter," he finally answered. "It'd just be a coupla days if I did go,
and Unc would be there too. I don't even know if I wanna see him." The last
thing he wanted to do was get into a big discussion with Cupid about his
father, but he could tell from the expression on the other boy's face that that
was the direction they were headed in if he didn't change the subject fast. "So
why'd ya look so freaked out when I said I was thinkin' 'bout goin' ta see him,
anyway?"
A hot blush crept into Cupid's cheeks as he looked down at Strife's chest, and
Strife couldn't resist splaying his fingers across the other boy's cheekbone to
let the heat of his skin warm his palm. "Cupe? What's the big deal?"
"It just threw me," Cupid said, letting out a deep breath before he looked up
again. "I heard you say you were thinking about going back there and…I don't
know. I thought maybe once you were home you wouldn't want to come back."
He swallowed the urge to laugh because he knew Cupid would take it the wrong
way, contenting himself with shaking his head and clearing his throat before he
answered. "Cupe, ya gotta be kiddin' me. Trust me, if ya ever get ta Detroit
and meet my mom, you'll know why that's never gonna happen. Besides, I kinda
like it here."
"She can't be that bad."
"She's worse, believe me."
Cupid grinned but didn't argue with him, sliding his hands a little further
around the older boy's waist and backing them toward his bed. "So if you do go,
when do you think it'll be?"
He thought about resisting the insistent pull of strong hands urging him down
onto the mattress, but it was hard to resist anything Cupid wanted and he knew
it was going to be a long wait until Friday night. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to
just sit with him for a couple minutes, even if Cupid's hands were already
working their way under his shirt. "I dunno. Why?"
"Because Psyche's having this graduation party in a couple weeks, and she told
me to invite you. Xena and Iolaus, too."
Strife had a pretty good idea why Psyche would want to invite Xena to her
party, but he wasn't sure what Iolaus had to do with it. Still, it was nice of
her to include them, even if it was going to be a bunch of high school kids. He
knew if Cupid really wanted him there he wouldn't say no, and having his own
friends around might make it a little less awkward. "Yeah, sure, Cupe. Just
lemme know when an' I'll ask Xena an' Iolaus."
"Really? You want to go? Even though it's just a high school party?"
"Yeah, course I'll go. Ya do want me ta be there, right? I mean were ya just
bein' nice or what?"
"No," Cupid said, and Strife had to bite back a laugh at the panic on the other
boy's face. "I mean yes, I want you there. Of course I want you there, Strife.
I…"
He didn't know for sure what Cupid was about to say. For all Strife knew he
could have been about to finish that sentence with 'I thought maybe you guys
could play a few sets'. He wasn't about to take any chances, though, especially
not with Cupid's mom just downstairs. There was no way he could listen to Cupid
say anything he wasn't ready to hear, not when he had to drive all the way back
to the city so Cupid could get up in time for school the next morning. And
maybe it was a rotten thing to do, but he felt himself pulling away before
Cupid had a chance to finish his sentence. "I should get goin'. Yer mom's
probably wonderin' what we're doin' as it is."
"She's fine," Cupid said, and Strife had to swallow a shudder when he felt the
other boy's fingers slide across his back. "It's not like she doesn't know
we're sleeping together."
"She…" Strife trailed off, his jaw dropping as he stood up and glanced over his
shoulder toward the door. "Ya talk to yer mom about that stuff?"
Cupid shrugged and followed Strife off the edge of his mattress, sighing when
the other boy took another step backwards. "It's no big deal, Strife. I told
you, she's a therapist. She lives to embarrass me by asking questions about
safe sex."
"Oh." He knew in theory that that was what parents were supposed to do, but
just the thought of sitting through an entire dinner with Dite when she'd known
the whole time…and Cupid hadn't said anything. Not that he'd really had a
chance, but still. She had a point, though, and he'd been meaning to talk to
Cupid about that himself. "Listen, Cupe, since ya brought it up, I was
thinkin'. We should probably go get tested…I mean I haven't gone since I got
here, an' it'd make things easier..."
It took a few seconds for Cupid to realize what he was getting at, but when it
finally sank in the younger boy grinned and closed the rest of the distance
between them. "Yeah, sure, Strife. Whenever you want."
"Well I was thinkin'…" That was as far as he got before Cupid's mouth landed on
his, effectively cutting him off. He realized his mouth was still open when he
felt the other boy's tongue slide against his, swallowing against a groan when
Cupid grabbed his hips and hauled him even closer. He finally managed to
wrestle his way out of Cupid's grip before he lost all track of where they were
and who might walk in on them, panting and dragging the back of his hand across
his mouth. "…we could go this weekend. Fuck, Cupe, I really gotta get outta
here."
"I know, I know," Cupid muttered, but he didn't quite pull off the pout he was
going for.
Strife grinned and stepped forward again, pressing a soft kiss to the other
boy's lips. When he released him again he reached for Cupid's hand and tugged
him gently toward the door. "Come on, I'll let ya walk me ta the door."
~
Cupid sighed and threw himself down on his bed, crossing his arms behind his
head to grin crazily up at the ceiling. Okay, so he'd come a little closer than
he'd expected to saying something Strife didn't want to hear tonight, but even
if his boyfriend wasn't ready to hear it he knew Strife at least felt something
for him. He had to, because he wanted to go get tested. Together. That was a
commitment, sort of, wasn't it? He wasn't really that good at this whole dating
thing, but it had to mean something. Besides, Strife had looked more scared
about his mom walking in than he was about Cupid blurting out something stupid
like 'I love you'. It wasn't really stupid, though, because he knew it was
true. He'd never felt this way before, but he'd asked Joxer and his dad enough
questions about it to know what he was feeling.
A knock on his bedroom door startled him out of his thoughts, and he glanced up
just in time to watch his mother push the door open. "Everything okay?" she
asked.
"Sure, Mom," he said, pushing himself up on his elbows to grin at her.
"Everything's great."
"He's a nice boy," Dite said, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned
against the doorframe. "Despite the age difference and a few other things you
neglected to mention."
"Sorry." His grin turned sheepish, but he could tell by her expression that she
wasn't really mad. "A lot happened this weekend, I guess. I just forgot about
Joxer and everything."
She smiled and pushed herself off the door frame, crossing to his bed and
leaning over to plant a kiss on his forehead. "It's alright, Cupid. You know I
adore Joxer. What he sees in Ares I'll never understand."
"Mom…"
"Sorry." She flashed a mischievous grin and backed toward the door, reaching
for the door knob just as the phone rang.
He waved absently as she pulled the door shut, reaching for the phone and
pressing the 'talk' button. "Hello?"
"Hey. How'd it go?"
Cupid smiled at the sound of Psyche's voice, dropping back down onto his
pillows to cradle the phone against his ear. "It went well. At least I think it
did. My mom really liked him."
"She did?"
"Yeah. I told you she would," Cupid answered, grinning at the disbelief in his
friend's voice. "I know she can be overprotective, but she's trying. It helped
that he's related to Joxer."
"I still don't get how she can love Joxer so much and still get so mad about
your dad."
"Beats me. Parents are weird."
"I'll say," Psyche said, her voice lowering a little as though she was afraid
someone would overhear her. "So did you invite him to you-know-what?"
"Yeah. I still can't believe you think your parents aren't going to find out
about the party."
"How are they gonna find out? They'll be in Europe or somewhere. As long as
they don't hear about it before it happens we're fine."
He rolled his eyes but didn't bother to argue; he knew better than to try to
talk Psyche out of something once she'd made up her mind, and anyway he'd been
looking forward to the party for awhile. Besides, he'd known her long enough to
know that she usually got away with whatever she set her mind to, and if her
parents found out about the party after the fact they wouldn't be able to do
anything about it.
"So have you cornered Auto yet?"
"No," she answered, and he could hear the frustration in her voice. "He knows
it's coming, I can tell by the way he's avoiding me. Sometimes I just wish he'd
meet somebody else, then he could tell himself he was dumping me and we'd both
get what we want."
As soon as she said it Cupid sat up straight, a grin tugging at the corners of
his mouth as he wondered why he hadn't thought of it in the first place. "Maybe
he can."
"Cupe, come on. Who's gonna put up with Auto?"
"Granted it's a long shot, but it might work. You know how Strife's convinced
that Iolaus is into guys and just won't admit it, right?"
"Yeah, but Auto?" He knew she was getting ready to argue with him, but not even
the idea that Psyche thought he was nuts bothered him. It would work if they
played it right, but he was going to need her help to figure out a plan.
"Why not? They're both good-looking guys, and Auto's the perfect guy to be
Iolaus' first."
"I don't know, Cupe. Auto's got this thing about being with another guy by
himself."
Cupe frowned at that, tucking the new piece of information in the 'think about
later' section of his brain. "Well Iolaus isn't exactly out either. They're
totally perfect for each other."
"Two closet cases? How is that perfect? We probably won't even be able to get
them to talk to each other."
"Sure we can. We just make them think it's not just them. You know, just like
you and Auto used to do all the time. That way he'll think you're not about to
break up with him, and Iolaus will just think it's a threesome. By the time he
figures out he's doing it with a guy it won't matter anymore."
"You're kidding, right? Cupe, I'm trying to break up with him here."
A frustrated sigh escaped Cupid's throat, and he shook his head even though she
couldn't see him. "I know, that's why they'll just think you're part of the
deal. All you have to do is get them alone in a room together. And the party's
the perfect place."
For a long moment Psyche didn't say anything, but just when Cupid had begun to
wonder if she'd hung up he heard a soft laugh on the other end of the line. "I
had no idea how sneaky you could be, Cupe. I have to say I'm impressed."
"So you'll do it?"
"I'll think about it," she answered, but he could tell by her tone that she was
going to go along with his plan.
"That's all I ask," he said. He'd wanted to do something to help Iolaus, and
now he'd thought of a way to help Auto at the same time. Matchmaking was
something he usually left to Psyche, but it was so obvious that he was
surprised he hadn't thought of it right away. One thing was for sure; he
couldn't wait to run his idea past Strife.

                      Part Twenty-Five – Independent Man
Cupid fingered the Band-Aid covering the spot where they'd drawn his blood,
trying hard not to smile too much and let on just how much he liked the fact
that they'd gone to the clinic together. As far as he was concerned that made
them an official couple, at least as close to official as he'd ever gotten
before. Not that he'd had too many doubts about their status before they got
tested together, but sometimes when he was in New Jersey and Strife was all the
way in New York it was hard not to wonder a little.
He wasn't exactly sure what Strife did all day, and sometimes he caught his
imagination wandering to some pretty weird scenarios about how his boyfriend
spent his time. He knew it was just because he'd never had an actual boyfriend
before, but that didn't make it any easier to deal with the fact that they
hardly ever saw each other.
Of course that would all be changing soon enough, and if things went well today
then as soon as he graduated from high school his life would be perfect.
"You're sure you don't mind?" he asked for the tenth time, glancing over at
Strife again.
"I already told ya no, Cupe," Strife said, but the grin tugging at the corners
of his mouth ruined the effect of his exasperated tone. "What's the big deal,
anyway? We're just goin' ta see yer old man, right?"
"No big deal," Cupid answered, shrugging as nonchalantly as he could manage. "I
just need to ask him something. I'm not sure how he's going to take it,
though."
"Yer dad's crazy about ya. I bet he's never said no to ya in yer life."
"Are you kidding? My parents are both insane about some things. It took me
forever just to talk my mom into letting me take the train to the city by
myself. And you've seen the way my dad acts about Auto and Psyche."
"So what're ya gonna ask him that's so bad?" Strife asked, raising an eyebrow
when Cupid shifted nervously on his seat.
"It's kind of about college," Cupid said, looking away from Strife as the train
they were on rolled to a stop. He still wasn't sure how Strife was going to
react once Cupid announced that he was planning to move to the city; he hoped
Strife would want him around, but it was hard to know what the other boy was
thinking. "I'm going to NYU, and since I'll be taking classes in the city I
figured it would be easier if I lived here."
"So…what, yer gonna move in with yer old man?"
"It depends on what he says when I ask him." Cupid bit his lip and pretended to
be fascinated with the spectacle of the train doors closing so he wouldn't
accidentally make eye contact with Strife. He knew he was a terrible liar, and
if he looked at the other boy Strife would definitely be able to tell he wasn't
being completely honest. Not that it was a lie, not in the strictest sense of
the definition, anyway. It was up to his father whether or not Cupid got his
way, but he didn't want to tell Strife his idea until he knew whether or not
there was a chance his father would say yes.
"He's gonna say yes, Cupe. He was just talkin' about how he wished he could see
more of ya the last time I was over there."
"What about you?" Cupid asked, his face flushing as soon as he realized he'd
said the words out loud. He hadn't meant to just blurt out the question like
that, but he was dying to know whether or not Strife wanted him around as much
as he wanted to be around. "I mean would you…you know…mind?"
"Mind? Why the fuck would I mind?" Strife frowned and sat up, forgetting about
the handful of other passengers on the train as he leaned forward and rested a
hand on the back of Cupid's neck. "Yer kiddin' me, right? Fuck, Cupe, I'd ask
ya ta move into my place if I thought Herc'd go fer it."
"Really?" Cupid knew his eyes were wide with shock, but there was no way he
could control his reaction even if he wanted to. He'd never expected Strife to
want him around that much; he'd hoped, sure, and he had some plans for his move
to the city that he hadn't mentioned to anyone yet. The idea that Strife would
actually want to be with him every day was something he hadn't let himself
entertain, though, and he was pretty sure the other boy was going to hear his
heart pounding against his chest.
"Yeah, really. This weekends only thing is kinda old already. I mean I'll take
what I can get, don't get me wrong. But if ya moved ta the city…even if ya were
livin' with Unc an' Ares, at least I'd get ta see ya more."
Cupid grinned and opened his mouth to answer, but before he got a chance the
train stopped again. He'd been so distracted by worrying about Strife's
reaction to his news that he'd almost managed to miss their stop, and when he
realized where they were he stood up abruptly and grabbed Strife's hand. "Come
on, this is our stop."
Strife didn't pull his hand away when they got off the train, and Cupid
couldn't help smiling at the fact that the other boy was actually touching him.
In public. It was something they usually had to be careful about, especially at
the clubs where the band played. Being able to do whatever felt right was a
weird feeling, but at the same time it was nice. Anyway Cupid had been coming
to this neighborhood since he was a kid, so he felt comfortable enough not to
worry about what anyone would say if they saw him with his boyfriend.
He led Strife through the neighborhood to his father's dojo, pointing out his
favorite places along the way. Since his father had moved in with Joxer he
hadn't gotten a chance to spend much time there, and it was nice to be able to
show it to Strife. They walked through the door of the karate studio just as
the last class of the day was finishing, and Cupid caught Ares' eye and waved
to the older man.
"So this is what yer old man does all day?" Strife asked, his voice low as he
took in the pictures of Ares and various members of his staff and students.
"For as long as I can remember," Cupid answered, grinning at the vague worry in
Strife's eyes. "He teaches Kempo. Street fighting."
"And yer some kinda karate expert too?"
"I'm not an expert," Cupid answered, his gaze falling on the same picture of
Cupid and his father that Aphrodite had hanging in their house. "That was the
last year I took lessons. It got hard to fit it into my schedule once I started
running on the track team. Dad wasn't happy, but he got over it."
"Still, ya said ya got yer brown belt, that's pretty close ta expert, right?"
Cupid nodded, swallowing his surprise at the fact that Strife had remembered
that conversation. It had been almost a month since he told Strife the picture
was taken when he got his brown belt, and he'd just assumed the other boy would
have forgotten. He felt a rush of something not altogether unfamiliar in his
veins, and he squeezed Strife's hand a little tighter before finally letting
go. "It's close enough, I guess."
Strife turned to grin at him, and Cupid was tempted to lean forward and plant a
hard kiss on his lips. The only thing stopping him was the fact that they were
waiting for his father, and he knew if Ares had to witness any real affection
between them he wasn't going to be all that eager to agree to let Cupid move to
the city. Convincing his mother depended on getting his father in his corner,
so he had to play his cards right or he'd find himself stuck in Jersey with a
daily train ride ahead of him.
Right on cue Ares reappeared in front of them, crossing his arms over his chest
as he looked them both over. "I wasn't expecting to see either of you here," he
said. "Are you coming for dinner? I can pick some things up on the way home…"
"Actually I needed to ask you something, Dad," Cupid interrupted, casting a
nervous glance at Strife before he turned back to his father. "It's about
college."
"I see. You're still planning on going."
It wasn't a question so much as a commandment, and Cupid stopped just short of
rolling his eyes at his father's tone. "Of course I'm still going. It's just
that it seems stupid to commute from Jersey every day when I could just move up
here."
He held his breath as he waited for Ares' reaction, hoping that just blurting
it out like that wasn't the wrong approach. He could tell Strife was trying as
hard as he could to pretend he wasn't even listening, but he could feel the
other boy tense as they both waited to see what Ares would say.
For a long moment Ares just stared at him, and Cupid had a sinking feeling that
his father had somehow figured out a way to read his mind. Then he shrugged and
turned toward the front desk, reaching for some paperwork before he answered.
"You know you're always welcome at our place, Cupid. Your mother will have a
hard time with it, of course, but even she has to see the advantage to not
commuting four hours a day."
"So you're okay with it? Me moving into the city, I mean," Cupid amended
quickly, careful to choose his words so they wouldn't be held against him
later.
"Of course, son." Ares looked up from his paperwork long enough to smile
indulgently at Cupid. "You know I love having you around. Besides, that way
you'll be able to see Strife without it taking time away from your studies."
Cupid did roll his eyes at the last part, but his bright grin ruined the
affect. "Thanks, Dad. I'm gonna show Strife around before you lock up, okay?"
"Sure," Ares answered absently. Cupid reached for Strife's hand again as soon
as Ares turned back to his paperwork, tugging the other boy in the direction of
the locker room. They were halfway across the studio when Ares cleared his
throat, and Cupid froze and turned slowly to look over his shoulder at his
father.
"Yeah?"
"You know you're still welcome for dinner," Ares said. "Both of you."
"We can't," Cupid answered automatically. "But we'll try to stop by tomorrow
before I go home."
Ares nodded and turned back to his paperwork, and Cupid took a deep breath and
ushered Strife toward a door on the other side of the room. He opened it as
quietly as possible, glancing back at his father one last time to make sure
Ares wasn't watching before he pushed Strife through the doorway and closed it
behind them again.
"Cupe, what's with all the sneakin' around?" Strife asked as soon as they were
out of sight. "I mean it's just a karate studio, right? What's there ta see?"
"Come on and I'll show you," Cupid answered, grinning when Strife frowned at
him. He led the older boy up a narrow staircase, stopping when he reached the
landing and reaching above the doorjamb for the key his father kept hidden
there. Once he had the door unlocked he set the key back in its hiding place,
pushing the door open and stepping aside to let Strife brush past him.
He followed the other boy into the loft and closed the door behind him, looking
around at the few pieces of furniture still left over from when his father had
called it home. It looked pretty much the same as he remembered it, right down
to the sagging couch he'd broken when he was just a kid. His dad's old TV was
in his room at Ares' and Joxer's place now, but the coffee table and his
father's old bed were still stored up here.
"Nice place," Strife said. "Big."
"Yeah, my dad used to live here before he moved in with Joxer," Cupid answered.
"Come on, I'll show you the rest."
"There's more?" Strife asked, sounding a little surprised to hear that the
single room wasn't the whole loft.
"Just the bedroom and bathroom." Cupid grinned and nodded in the direction of
the door that led to the bedroom.
"Cupe," Strife said, his tone a mixture of reluctance and anticipation. "Isn't
yer dad gonna come lookin' fer us soon?"
"It always takes him forever to catch up on his paperwork on Saturday," Cupid
answered. "He lets it all pile up all week and ends up buried in it over the
weekend. Besides, we don't have to stay long. I just wanted to look around."
"How come? I mean ya been here before, right?"
Cupid nodded as he led Strife toward the bedroom, his hand on the small of the
other boy's back to guide him toward Ares' old bed. He pushed Strife down
gently on the edge of the mattress, his knees on either side of the other boy's
thighs as Strife stretched out on the bedspread. "Sure, I used to stay here
with my dad on his weekends. But I haven't been up here in a few years. From
the looks of things my dad hasn't either."
"So what?"
"So do you really think I want to move all the way to the city just to move in
with my dad and your uncle?" Cupid grinned as Strife's eyes got a little wider,
leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on the other boy's lips before he pulled
back again. "I mean I love them both, don't get me wrong. But I don't really
want to live with them. Besides, this place is just going to waste. Dad never
got around to renting it out, so why shouldn't I move in?"
Strife's hands were already moving up Cupid's thighs, finally landing on his
waist to tug the other boy forward. "Yer dad's never gonna go fer that, Cupe.
Movin' into his place is one thing, but this…"
"That's the beauty of my plan," Cupid answered, smiling sweetly at Strife's
confused expression. "This is his place. And once he gets used to the idea of
having me around all the time he's not going to say no."
"Ya know, yer sneakier than ya look," Strife said, an amused grin lighting up
his features as Cupid leaned forward and captured his lips again. He was
tempted to push their luck, to see how much of Strife's skin he could uncover
before Ares got curious and came looking for them. Giving his father a visual
of what Cupid planned to do with his new-found independence probably wouldn't
help his cause, though, so he settled for a long, languid kiss as he ran his
hands over Strife's stomach under his shirt. Not that he was complaining,
because he didn't get that many chances to just kiss Strife this way and he
definitely wasn't tired of it yet.
"Cupe," Strife groaned against his mouth, his tone half pleading, half warning.
Cupid pulled away reluctantly, hovering just inches from the other boy's mouth.
"This is a bad idea."
"What? The loft or the kiss?" Cupid teased, grinning when Strife scowled at
him.
"Ya know what I mean."
"I know," Cupid answered, leaning back until he was sitting astride the other
boy's thighs again. "But think how much fun we could have once I move in here.
And we can do whatever we want in the shower."
That earned him a bright grin, and Strife pushed himself up on his elbows and
let his gaze wander over Cupid's chest. "I could think of a few things ta do in
the shower."
"Me too. In fact, I've already thought of a couple." Cupid shifted his weight
slightly, just enough to shock a gasp out of Strife. "You wanna hear them, or
do you want to wait for me to show you?"
"You start talkin' like that now and we're never getting' outta here," Strife
warned him. "Seriously, Cupe, yer dad'll kill me if he catches us messin'
around up here."
"He wouldn't kill you. He loves you. Besides, if he killed you Joxer would
never speak to him again, and I don't even want to think about my dad trying to
pick up the pieces if Joxer kicked him out."
Strife raised an eyebrow at the mention of his uncle, his barely disguised
amusement fading into a slightly awed expression. "They're really crazy 'bout
each other, huh?"
"You have no idea," Cupid answered. "They're perfect for each other. Before
Joxer my dad was a totally different person. Majorly uptight about everything,
and way too interested in my life. If it wasn't for Joxer there's no way my dad
would have been so cool about me meeting somebody at a club, let alone staying
at your place every weekend."
"So if it wasn't fer Unc yer dad woulda hated me?"
A soft sigh escaped Cupid's throat at the question; Strife was trying to sound
nonchalant, but Cupid could tell he really worried about what his parents
thought of him. No amount of assuring Strife that his parents liked him had
even made a dent in his insecurity, and Cupid wasn't sure how else to convince
Strife that he had nothing to worry about. It wasn't like his parents' opinion
really mattered anyway; Cupid was crazy about him, and as long as he was happy
his parents weren't going to try to ruin things for them.
"He could never hate you, Strife," Cupid said, his fingers trailing down the
other boy's neck as he spoke. He watched as a soft shiver rolled through
Strife, smiling at the effect he had on his boyfriend. "Besides, it doesn't
matter what my dad thinks."
"It matters," Strife answered, reaching up to catch Cupid's hand in his own.
"Yer folks are crazy about ya, Cupe. That's a good thing, yer lucky."
"I know." Cupid's smile returned, but it was tempered by the nervous tension
balling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure if he was handling any of
this right, but it felt right, and that had to count for something. "They just
want me to be happy, and they know you make me happy. I love you."
As soon as he said it he let go of Strife's hand, looking anywhere but at the
other boy as he scrambled off the mattress and stood up. He saw Strife slowly
sit up out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn't bring himself to look over
and see his reaction to Cupid's confession. "We should probably get back," he
said as he backed toward the door. "Dad's probably about ready to go."
"Cupe," Strife said, stopping Cupid in his tracks as he reached the entrance to
the bedroom. He froze and slowly turned around, leaning back against the
doorframe as Strife stood up and crossed the room. "Say that again."
"You heard me." Cupid winced at the way his voice trembled, half of him wishing
he'd thought fast enough to make a joke out of it. He hadn't really planned for
any of this, though, and thinking on his feet was never that easy when his
emotions were involved.
"Yeah, I did," Strife said, and Cupid couldn't help flinching at the hand that
landed on his shoulder. "I kinda liked the way it sounded when ya said it,
though."
When he finally looked up Cupid saw exactly what he'd expected to; fear and
shock were shining clearly in Strife's eyes, but underneath it was another
emotion, something Cupid hadn't let himself hope for. "I love you," he said
again, his fingers betraying him long enough to curl around Strife's shirt at
his waist. "I wouldn't have said anything, but I hate it when you worry about
my parents. It wouldn't matter if they did hate you, not when…"
"Cupe, relax," Strife interrupted, a nervous grin tugging at the corners of his
mouth as Cupid took a deep breath and stopped talking. "I mean I wasn't really
expectin' it or anythin', at least not like this. But it's okay…I mean it's
good. I mean…I mean I love you too."
The last part came out in one long rush of breath, and if Cupid hadn't already
been grinning from the sound of those words coming out of Strife's mouth he
would have laughed at the nervousness in his voice. He knew nobody would
believe him if he told them that Strife was actually afraid to tell Cupid he
loved him, but in a way it was kind of nice. He let himself be pulled forward
for a hard kiss, his other arm sliding around Strife's waist to pull him
closer. This hadn't been part of his plan for the weekend, but so far things
were working out a lot better than he could have hoped for.

                           Part Twenty-Six – Perfect
Cupid still hadn't quite managed to convince himself that Strife had actually
said the words out loud. He'd only said it the one time, after all, and Cupid
had a feeling that he wasn't going to hear it often enough to get used to the
sound. Still, once was really all he needed, because even if Strife never said
it again he knew it was true. It wasn't something they needed to talk about or
rehash or even waste a lot of thought on; it was just something they both knew
now, and all it meant was that they were in this thing together for as long as
possible.
Strife had said something about tickets to some show or something earlier, but
that was before Cupid had blurted out 'I love you' without even stopping to
think about what he was doing. After Strife said it back they forgot all about
going out, they forgot the plans they'd made for the weekend and even the fact
that Strife had said something to Xena about stopping by later. All they'd been
able to think about was each other, and it was hard enough to keep their hands
to themselves until they made it back to Strife's apartment.
He knew he wouldn't be able to sit in a crowded club next to the other boy and
not touch, so it was just as well that Strife didn't seem to be in any hurry to
go anywhere. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to do much of anything, really,
but Cupid wasn't complaining as long as he kept up the soothing motion of his
fingers through the younger boy's hair. They'd been stretched out on Strife's
bed since they got back to the apartment, neither of them bothering to stop
even long enough to kick off their shoes before they collapsed onto the small
bed together.
"So do ya really think yer dad'll go fer ya movin' into the loft?"
Strife's voice was low and just a little uncertain, and the sound warmed Cupid
from the inside out. He shifted a little closer to the other boy, lifting his
head off Strife's shoulder long enough to plant a kiss on the edge of his jaw.
"He'll come around once he gets used to the idea."
"And yer mom?"
Cupid sighed and settled back down onto Strife's shoulder, turning his face
into the warm cotton of the other boy's tee shirt and inhaling the mixture of
warm fabric softener and Strife he'd come to love so much. "She'll be a little
tougher to convince. But between Joxer and Dad I think she'll give in."
"She really listens ta Unc?"
"Are you kidding? You should see them together." Cupid grinned and pushed
himself up far enough to roll onto his stomach, resting his chin on Strife's
chest and staring up into amused blue eyes. "She's crazy about him. She likes
him way better than she likes Dad. Sometimes I think if it wasn't for Joxer
they wouldn't be able to be in the same room."
"I thought yer folks were friends."
"Sure, they've known each other forever. But Mom's still pissed at Dad for
lying to her for twenty years, and Dad's still pissed that Mom likes Joxer so
much. I think he was secretly hoping she'd disapprove of his boyfriend."
"Why?"
Cupid shrugged as well as he could considering his position, sliding a hand
down Strife's chest to work its way under the other boy's shirt. "I don't know.
They've always been like that, it's like they don't know what to do if they're
not pissing each other off. I mean I love them and everything, but sometimes I
wish they really didn't talk to each other anymore."
"But yer mom's got a life, right? I mean she's not still hung up on yer dad, is
she?"
"She goes out. Don't ask her about her love life, though. She gets seriously
pissed if I even ask who she's going out with. She says it's nobody's business
but hers." Strife snorted and Cupid frowned, his hand freezing on the other
boy's stomach. "What?"
"Nothin'. Just sounds like something my mom would say."
"What, she wouldn't let you meet her boyfriends either?"
"Oh, she brought 'em around," Strife answered, his grin fading as he reached
out and buried his fingers in Cupid's hair again. "She just didn't like me
tellin' her who ta go out with. Believe me, some of 'em were real losers. Try
tellin' her that, though."
"So she didn't care if you didn't like them?"
"She used ta say that she didn't tell me who I could fuck, so she didn't want
me tryin' ta tell her who she could fuck."
It was a struggle not to react to that, but somehow Cupid managed not to say
anything he'd regret about Strife's mother. He didn't want to ruin what had
been a perfect day so far by saying something Strife wouldn't appreciate,
especially when Cupid knew that Strife loved his mother. It was hard to tell
sometimes from the way he talked about her, but Cupid got the impression that
Strife thought their relationship was normal.
"Yeah, well, my mom thinks she's got every right to tell me who I can and can't
go out with."
"Yeah? What'd she say 'bout me?"
"I already told you, she likes you," Cupid answered, grinning at the other
boy's skeptical expression. "What? She does. She thinks you're too skinny, but
she likes you."
Strife frowned and glanced down at his stomach as Cupid pushed his tee shirt
up, his fingers tracing the other boy's ribs where they jutted out against pale
skin. "I'm not too skinny."
"No," Cupid said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the center of Strife's
exposed abdomen. His tongue darted out to taste the slightly salty skin, then
he let out a hot breath over the spot that sent a shiver through the other
boy's body. "I think you're perfect."
"Cupe," Strife said, his voice a mixture of pleading and warning.
"I do," Cupid said, ignoring the fact that he was probably embarrassing Strife
as he pushed his shirt up a little further to flick his tongue over a taut
nipple.
"I love the way you look. I love your hands." He shifted his attention away
from Strife's exposed chest long enough to catch one of his hands and press a
kiss to the center of his palm. "And I love your arms," he said, his mouth
leaving Strife's hand to taste the skin just inside Strife's elbow. He entwined
his fingers with the hand that was still clasped in his, shifting against the
body pressed underneath him until he found his way back to Strife's mouth. "And
I love the way you kiss."
Strife's lips parted automatically underneath his, his free hand tightening in
Cupid's hair to pull him even closer. He knew he wasn't supposed to say stuff
like that, that it made him seem too young or too sentimental. He had a feeling
Strife wouldn't mind just this once, though, and besides he wanted the other
boy to know exactly how crazy Cupid was about him. He wanted Strife to know
that he meant what he'd said – everything he'd said – and that he wasn't going
to change his mind no matter who tried to make him. It didn't matter what
happened now, they were together and as far as Cupid was concerned, that was
the way it was going to stay.
When he finally pulled away to let them both catch their breath Strife's eyes
were open, and Cupid didn't bother trying to fight the broad grin that lit up
his features. He couldn't remember ever being this happy, and he didn't care
who knew about it. Strife's lips turned up into a smile that matched his own,
and his heart skipped a beat when he saw his own feelings mirrored back in the
other boy's eyes.
"Yer crazy, ya know that?"
"You're not the first person to say that," Cupid answered, grinning even wider
when Strife let out a chuckle. "Maybe I am."
"Nah." Strife's hand left his hair to trace his jaw line, his thumb tracing the
curve of Cupid's lips as he studied the younger boy's features. "Yer the
perfect one, Cupe."
He had a feeling it was an argument neither of them could win, so he just
smiled and shifted until their legs were entwined and he was resting half on
top of Strife. "Do you think Herc's gonna be mad when he finds out I'm moving
to the city?"
"Herc?" Strife frowned at the sudden subject change, shifting under the other
boy so he could catch a glimpse of Cupid's expression. "Why would he care?"
"Because of the band. I mean he didn't want you dating me in the first place,
right? So if I live here and we can see each other more often…"
"Cupe," Strife interrupted him, a hint of amusement in his voice as he tilted
Cupid's chin up so he could look in the other boy's eyes, "would ya forget that
stupid pact already? Nobody's seen Herc in days anyway. Last I heard he was
shackin' up with Gabbie."
"Really? So they're…like a couple now?"
"Beats me." Strife sighed and let go of Cupid to fold his arms behind his head,
his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I guess it's kinda my fault. I mean I feel bad
fer Xena, ya know? But I think Herc's just hangin' out with Gabbie so he won't
hafta deal with me."
"I don't get it," Cupid said, his hand on the other boy's stomach again to
trace random patterns on the pale skin there. "I mean you guys are supposed to
be friends, why can't he just get over the whole pact thing and go back to
playing music?"
"I dunno. I mean the band's great and all, ya know? That's the whole reason we
moved out here in the first place. But nobody's talkin' ta anybody, and after
Xena decked Herc…I dunno if he's comin' back. He's not even talkin' ta Iolaus
right now."
Cupid sighed and rested his head against Strife's chest again, listening to the
sound of the other boy's heart beating steadily against his ear. "I feel bad
for Iolaus," he finally said, his voice slightly muffled by Strife's tee shirt.
"I mean none of this is his fault, but Hercules is taking it out on him."
"He'll get over it, Cupe. It's not like it's the first time Herc's gotten his
nose outta joint about somethin' stupid."
"Still, it must be kind of lonely." Cupid's hand started moving against
Strife's skin again, raising goosebumps on the other boy's skin as his fingers
ghosted over Strife's ribs. "I mean Herc's his best friend, right? And when I'm
here he probably feels weird about just hanging around in the apartment. Where
is he, anyway?"
"I think he went someplace with Xena," Strife answered, shifting out from
underneath Cupid to turn onto his side. He rested a hand on Cupid's chest,
fisting the material of the other boy's shirt to pull him gently forward.
"Why?"
"I just feel bad for him, that's all." Cupid allowed himself to be pulled
forward, lips parting automatically when Strife's mouth claimed his again. His
hand left Strife's stomach to slide around his back, pushing Strife's tee shirt
a little further up in the process. A low groan escaped his throat when Strife
slid his leg over Cupid's hip, fitting their bodies together.
"Ya don't hafta feel bad fer Iolaus," Strife said when he released Cupid's
mouth again. "Trust me, Cupe, he can take care a himself."
Cupid nodded and leaned forward again, fusing their lips together and pulling
Strife flush against him. He rocked his hips against the other boy's, smiling
at the answering groan that escaped Strife's throat. This was his favorite part
of being with Strife; he loved everything about their time together, but there
was nothing he liked quite as much as the feeling of Strife's mouth moving
against his. Kissing was definitely underrated, as it turned out, because he'd
never thought much about it until he met Strife. Now that he knew what it could
be like he knew he'd never be able to go back to the way he'd been living
before Strife stumbled into his life, not that he wanted to. There wasn't much
he wouldn't do to keep what they had, as a matter of fact, and he wanted
everyone around him to be as happy as he was right now.
He closed his eyes when Strife's mouth left his to trail down his neck,
stopping just below his ear to press a soft kiss to the sensitive skin there.
Cupid shuddered and pressed his palm flat against Strife's back, holding him in
place as he opened his mouth against Cupid's neck. "I just…I think he should…"
Cupid paused and fought to open his eyes, summoning the few brain cells that
weren't currently focused on the intense pleasure centered at the base of his
neck. "He should meet some new…new people."
"Who?" Strife murmured against his skin, releasing Cupid's neck with one final
kiss and slowly working his way back up to the other boy's mouth. Cupid's lips
brushed against Strife's mouth before he pulled back again, forcing himself to
focus long enough to get his point across.
"Iolaus," he finally breathed, reaching down to catch the hand that was
wandering down his hip. "Don't you think he'd be happier if he got out more?"
"Cupe, why're we talkin' about this now?"
He wasn't sure he could answer that question, but he could tell from the way
Strife was looking at him that he wasn't really mad. Deep down Strife probably
felt a little guilty about Iolaus too, and Cupid knew how much Strife cared
about his friends, even if he wouldn't admit it. "Because I feel bad for him.
He's got a total jerk for a best friend and having us around all the time isn't
helping him figure things out. I think he needs to meet some people that can
help him figure out what he wants."
"That's a bad idea," Strife said, pulling far enough away to meet Cupid's
hopeful gaze. "Look, Cupe, I know ya wanna help, but ya don't really know him.
I mean Iolaus has been like this fer as long as I've known him. It takes him
forever ta do anythin', he's always too busy worryin' about what's gonna happen
ta just let himself have any fun. Ya can't just introduce him around an' hope
fer the best. It won't work."
"That wasn't what I had in mind," Cupid said, grinning at Strife's skeptical
expression. "Look, I told you about Auto and Psyche, right?"
"I thought she had a thing fer Xena."
"She does, but she hasn't exactly told Auto yet. So all we have to do is make
Auto and Iolaus think that they're hooking up with Psyche, and then they'll
take care of the rest."
"Ya mean trick 'em into sleepin' together?"
"Well, yeah." It didn't sound as romantic when Strife put it that way, but it
would work. Cupid was almost positive that this was the best answer for
everybody, and even if Auto and Iolaus didn't fall for each other at least
Iolaus would finally know one way or the other what he wanted. Not to mention
it got Psyche out of a dead-end relationship, and then Cupid wouldn't have to
feel guilty anymore about being happier than he'd ever thought possible.
"What if it doesn't work?"
"What could go wrong?" Cupid asked, frowning at the prospect of something
interfering with his perfect plan. There was no way it wouldn't work; he
already knew Auto was into guys, and he couldn't think of a better person to
help Iolaus figure things out. It was just a matter of making them see that
they were perfect for each other. Well, perfect enough, anyway, and at this
point Cupid was willing to overlook a few flaws in the plan if it meant his
friends would come out happy in the end.
Strife just shook his head and pulled his hand out of Cupid's to run his
fingers through tousled blond hair. "Ya know they'll probably kill ya when they
figure out ya set 'em up."
"They'll thank me when they realize how right they are for each other," Cupid
said, his confidence wavering a little when Strife laughed. "What?"
"Nothin'. Just don't forget I told ya so."

                      Part Twenty-Seven – The Love Thing
He might have been able to talk some sense into Cupid if he’d really wanted to,
but it meant a lot more talking and a lot less kissing, and it wasn’t a trade-
off Strife was willing to make. Maybe later it would seem more important to try
to talk Cupid out of interfering in their friends’ sex lives, but the last
thing Strife wanted to do when he had Cupid alone in his bed was talk about
other guys. Especially not Auto; it was one thing for Cupid to feel sorry for
Iolaus, but he still didn't trust Cupid's friend and he wasn't sure how much he
wanted Auto around them.
It would be one thing if Strife wasn't positive he had a thing for Cupid, but
he wasn't sure just pushing Iolaus and Auto together would do the trick.
Chances were it wasn't going to make Auto forget he wanted Cupid, and the last
thing Iolaus needed was some high school kid using him to make Cupid jealous.
There was no way he could say any of that to Cupid, though, not without making
the other boy think he was jealous. And he wasn't; he just didn't want Auto
around any more than he could help.
"Strife," Cupid murmured against his ear, sending a warm shiver down Strife's
spine and momentarily chasing all thoughts of Auto and Iolaus out of his head,
"you're all tense. What's the matter?"
"Nothin'," he answered, telling himself it was close enough to the truth,
anyway. Cupid didn't need to hear what he'd been thinking about, especially not
when his hands were still busy mapping every inch of Strife's chest.
He knew Cupid wasn't buying that answer when the other boy's hand left his
chest, a soft sigh escaping his throat as he pulled away from Strife and sat
up. Strife followed him up, but when he opened his mouth to try to convince the
other boy that everything was fine Cupid just shook his head. Strong hands
landed on Strife's waist, tugging his tee shirt up and over his head. His pants
were next, and the entire time Cupid was undressing him he didn't say anything,
leaving Strife to wonder whether to be grateful that Cupid didn't want to talk
or worried about the fact that he was being so quiet.
"Cupe," he finally said when he couldn't stand the silence anymore, "come on.
Say somethin'."
For a long moment Cupid didn't answer; he reached for the hem of his own shirt
and pulled it over his head, dropping it on the floor before he pushed Strife
gently onto his back. A shudder rolled through Strife when Cupid straddled his
waist, and he couldn't help remembering lying in the same position in the loft,
listening to the other boy say 'I love you' for the first time. It was a moment
he would never forget no matter what happened between them in the future.
He started to reach for the button on Cupid's jeans, but before he made contact
strong hands closed around his and gently pushed his hands back down to the
mattress. Smooth, golden skin slid against his chest as Cupid leaned down,
pressing his lips to Strife's for a soft kiss. When he pulled back again he was
barely a few inches from the other boy, his expression thoughtful as he pushed
a few strands of dark hair away from Strife's forehead. "Did you mean it?"
"Mean what?" Strife asked, his mind racing as he tried to remember what he'd
said last.
"Earlier, when you said you'd ask me to move in here if it wasn't for
Hercules."
Had he really said that? He couldn't believe those words had actually made it
out of his mouth, but he knew he meant them. It wasn't the first time he'd
thought about what it would be like to wake up with Cupid next to him every
day; in fact, it was the first thing he thought of every time he woke up alone.
"Yeah, Cupe. I meant it."
"So what if…I mean you could, if you wanted…you could move in with me. In the
loft."
Listening to Cupid stumble over his words would have made him smile if he
wasn't so busy reacting to what the other boy had just said. He'd meant it when
he'd said that he'd thought about Cupid living with him, but it was one thing
to talk about it when it wasn't even a possibility. Actually thinking about
moving in together…that was a big step, one he'd never taken before with anyone
he dated. He'd never liked anybody enough to want to keep them around longer
than a few weeks at the most, let alone felt the way he did about Cupid. "Ya
don't even know if yer dad's gonna say yes," he said, hoping it didn't sound as
much like an excuse to Cupid as it did to him.
"He'll say yes," Cupid answered, but his voice was softer than it had been a
minute ago and Strife knew he had to be careful if he didn't want to ruin
everything.
"Cupe," he began, pausing and letting out a deep breath when he saw the other
boy's earnest expression, "ya really think ya could live with me?"
He could tell Cupid hadn't thought this through when the other boy grinned and
rolled his eyes. "Of course I could. I love you."
And he had to admit that he loved hearing Cupid say that; he loved it so much
that there was no way he was going to be able to tell him no, not even if he
had a feeling they were getting in over their heads. There was no guarantee it
would happen, though, and until Ares gave Cupid the go-ahead on the loft he
wasn't going to worry about it. "Ya know yer dad's gonna burst a vessel when ya
tell him ya want me ta move in with ya."
The grin that lit up the other boy's features sent a shiver through Strife that
wasn't entirely desire, and he knew things were going to get really complicated
before they got any easier. "That's why we're not going to tell him," Cupid
answered, leaning forward and opening his mouth to breathe the last few words
against Strife's neck.
He swallowed against another shiver and worked his hands between them, finally
getting Cupid's jeans open and pushing the denim a little lower on his hips.
"Cupe…"
"Shh," Cupid whispered near his ear, the sound vibrating against his skin. He
gasped and arched up automatically, trying and failing to find some friction to
ease the ache of his quickly hardening cock. Finally Cupid took the hint and
pushed himself up long enough to get his jeans and boxers off, dropping them on
the floor with the rest of their clothes before he climbed over Strife again.
He reached above him, feeling around on the mattress until he found a stray
condom floating around. As soon as he held it up Cupid pulled it out of his
grip, leaving him to search for the lube while Cupid closed a fist around the
base of Strife's cock and slowly rolled the condom down. His almost frantic
search for the lube they'd lost in the sheets the night before was enough to
distract him from the sensation of Cupid's hand stroking his length, and he
finally located the tube and reached down to run a slick hand over his cock.
He hadn't needed to be inside Cupid with this kind of urgency since that first
night at the back of the club, before he had any idea who he was fucking or
even if they'd ever see each other again. In practically no time at all
everything had changed; his whole life revolved around Cupid now, and even
though he'd never admit it he kind of liked it that way. He sucked in a sharp
breath when Cupid pushed himself up on his knees, squeezing more lube onto his
fingers and reaching between the other boy's legs to press two fingers inside
him.
Cupid sighed and sank down onto Strife's fingers, his eyelids fluttering closed
and his head rolling back as Strife pushed all the way inside him. Just
watching Cupid ride his fingers that way was enough to bring him close to the
edge, and he reached down with his free hand to close his fist around the base
of his cock. When he was sure he wasn't going to come he pulled his hand away
again, pulling his fingers out of Cupid and watching as the other boy's eyes
opened again. Their eyes locked as soon as Cupid looked up, an almost shy grin
lighting up his features as he took hold of Strife's cock again and lined
himself up.
Strife was almost sure he was grinning back with nearly the same expression,
but he couldn't make himself care whether or not he looked like a love-struck
teenager. That was pretty much how he felt, after all, and it wasn't going to
hurt anything now that Cupid knew how he felt. A second later Cupid sank down
onto his length, and he forgot all about how he looked and focused everything
in him on the sensation of tight heat engulfing his cock.
He was sure he was babbling something, but he had no idea what he was saying or
if it was even English. It could have been Greek for all he knew, but it didn't
matter because Cupid understood what he meant anyway. He'd always known how
Strife felt, maybe even before Strife did. And maybe that should have bothered
Strife, but for some reason it just made him want to grin like an idiot again.
Right now, though…right now Cupid was slowly pulling off him, pausing when only
the head of Strife's cock was still buried inside him. Strife remembered the
lube long enough to squeeze a little more onto his hand, pushing himself up on
one elbow and reaching out to close a slick hand around Cupid's cock.
A low groan escaped Cupid's throat as he sank back down, impaling himself at a
torturously slow pace as Strife's fist closed around him. Strife wasn't sure
how Cupid could stand to move that slowly, but he was pretty sure it was going
to kill at least one of them before it was over. He lost track of everything;
the thought of moving in with Cupid, what Ares was going to say and even what
Joxer was going to say about how fast they were moving. None of the things that
had mattered just a few minutes ago seemed important anymore, not when he could
still hear Cupid saying 'I love you' over and over.
It took him a few seconds to realize that the reason he could hear it was
because Cupid was saying it again, his voice a low murmur that Strife was
almost positive the younger boy wasn't even aware of. He couldn't help grinning
at that, because the fact that Cupid didn't even realize he was saying it just
made it that much more believable. He tightened his grip on the other boy,
speeding up his strokes a little in an effort to encourage Cupid to move
faster. He wasn't sure it would actually work until Cupid picked up his speed,
his face flushed with the effort of pushing himself up and down Strife's
length.
He couldn't remember ever seeing anything quite as beautiful as Cupid flushed
and panting, his eyes shut tight against the almost painful pleasure as he
rocked back and forth between Strife's cock and his fist. There was no chance
of him ever seeing anything that beautiful ever again, no matter how long he
searched. At least he was pretty sure no other guy would ever measure up to
Cupid, not that he had any intention of finding out. Whenever he caught himself
thinking like that he usually got a little nervous about how far in over his
head he was getting, but for some reason now the thought didn't even bother
him. Maybe it was the tight heat gripping his cock with every downstroke, or
maybe it was the fact that Cupid had finally said the words Strife had been
dreading for so long.
It was the first time he'd ever heard anyone besides his uncle say them out
loud to him, and even Joxer hadn't said it since he was a little kid. He knew
his mother loved him, but it wasn't the kind of thing they said to each other.
His father hadn't even tried to get in touch with him since he was a kid, and
none of his relationships had been what he'd call serious. The fact that Cupid
really meant it still blew him away, and there was no way he could have stopped
himself from loving somebody that knew so much about him and still wanted him
anyway.
"Cupe," he groaned, his back arching a little further when Cupid's muscles
contracted around him, "I can't…"
That was as much as he got out, trailing off with a low groan when the other
boy shifted and started moving even faster. He'd always admired Cupid's
strength, but he'd never gotten the chance to really watch it up close and
personal before. Every muscle in Cupid's body was straining with the effort of
seeking just the right angle, driving Strife's cock a little more forcefully
into him with every stroke. It was a sight Strife definitely wouldn't get tired
of, and when he felt the other boy tense he tightened his grip and twisted his
wrist just enough to surprise Cupid's orgasm out of him.
A second later wet heat hit his chest and fingers, and he waited until Cupid
stopped shaking before he pulled his hand off his cock and lifted his fingers
to his mouth. Cupid's eyes opened just in time to watch Strife suck his fingers
into his mouth, his lips turning up in an almost predatory grin as he began
moving again. His movements were rhythmic and designed to torture, muscles
contracting every time Strife was buried completely inside him. The combination
of Cupid moving against him and the bitter taste of the other boy on his tongue
was enough to push him over the edge, and Strife's hands clamped down hard on
Cupid's hips to hold him in place as he came inside him.
He was still buried deep inside the other boy when he finally caught his
breath, and he bit back another moan when Cupid lifted up and let Strife slip
out of him. He stroked whatever part of Cupid's skin he could reach as the
younger boy carefully removed the condom and stood up, leaving Strife alone in
the bed long enough to toss it in the trash. When he returned Strife summoned
enough strength to move over, turning toward the other boy as Cupid stretched
out next to him and slid a strong arm around his waist.
Strife's hand landed in tousled blond hair, stroking lazy patterns against
Cupid's scalp as he listened to the sound of their mingled breathing. He felt
like he should say something, but he wasn't sure what or even why he felt the
need to talk. It wouldn't be the first time they'd both passed out right after
sex, but something about the strength with which he'd needed Cupid made it feel
more intense than usual. Maybe it was just because it was the first time
neither of them had held anything back, but if that was what it felt like when
Cupid knew how he felt, Strife should have just said the words a long time ago.
He grinned at that thought and shifted enough to catch a glimpse of the other
boy, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of long eyelashes curling against
Cupid's cheek. His chest was rising and falling steadily against Strife's, and
he found himself almost disappointed at the fact that Cupid had fallen asleep.
As soon as he thought it Cupid's eyes opened, though, and a moment later Strife
found himself returning a sleepy, affectionate grin.
"You never answered me," Cupid said, his hand seeking out Strife's to entwine
their fingers together.
"'Bout what?"
"About moving into the loft with me."
It was so unbelievable that Cupid had to ask that it took Strife a minute to
realize he was waiting for an answer. When he finally did he grinned and shook
his head against the pillow, drawing their entwined hands up to rest them
against his chest. "Course I do, Cupe. If yer crazy enough ta want me around."
"Strife, I…"
"I know," Strife interrupted, his chest suddenly tight. He wasn’t sure he could
listen to Cupid say it again without losing it, and the last thing he wanted to
do was explain why he was suddenly bawling like a little kid. He waited until
he was sure his voice was back under control, his other hand leaving Cupid's
hair to trail down his cheek. "Me too."
"I know." Cupid's smile returned then, and Strife didn't bother to try to stop
the soft laugh that escaped his throat. He pressed a quick kiss to the other
boy's temple before Cupid settled back against his chest again, his fingers
flexing against Strife's skin. "Are we still going out tonight?"
"If ya want," Strife said, part of him hoping that Cupid would say that he'd
rather stay right where they were. They still had most of the afternoon ahead
of them, though, and he'd told Xena they'd meet her later. She was handling the
Gabbie situation okay so far, but Strife wasn't sure whether or not she was
just putting on an act and he didn't want to stand her up. "Xena wants us ta
meet her at The Underground."
"Sounds good," Cupid said. He could hear the hesitation in the younger boy's
voice, and he braced himself as he waited for whatever was coming. "Is Iolaus
going to be there?"
"I guess. Why?" he asked, although he was pretty sure he already knew the
answer.
"No reason," Cupid answered, glancing up at Strife long enough to blink
innocently.
"Cupe…"
A heavy sigh escaped the other boy's throat, but he didn't try to disentangle
himself from Strife. "Fine, I figured it wouldn't hurt if Psyche and Auto
happened to show up. What harm would it do just to call them?"
It was tempting to give Cupid a whole laundry list of all the potential harm he
could do by trying to set up two guys who didn't know each other and didn't
really seem that interested in the first place. He had a feeling it wouldn't do
any good, though; somehow Cupid had gotten it into his head that Auto and
Iolaus were perfect for each other, and nothing Strife could say was going to
convince him otherwise. "Fine, call 'em. No way is Iolaus gonna go fer anything
with me an' Xena sittin' right there, though."
"Nothing has to happen tonight," Cupid answered, a smile lighting up his
features when he realized that Strife was going to go along with his plan after
all. "I just thought it would be fun for us to hang out."
Strife could think of a few things that sounded like more fun; introducing
Cupid to his mother, for one, or possibly having his fingernails pulled out
with a pair of pliers. The last thing he really wanted to do was hang out with
Auto, but he had a feeling he was going to have to get used to the fact that he
was more or less a permanent fixture in Cupid's life. At least for the time
being, and until that changed Strife wasn't going to screw up what they had by
acting like a jealous idiot.
He was going to try not to, anyway. Cupid didn't need to know it, but there
wasn't much Strife wouldn't do to make him happy. And if that meant throwing
Iolaus to the wolves…well, he'd try his best to make sure Cupid didn't do
anything really stupid, but if it made him happy to play matchmaker the least
Strife could do was go along with it and try to make sure nothing really bad
happened.

                        Part Twenty-Eight – Girl Crush
She wasn’t really sure why she was doing it. Her first instinct when Cupid
brought up the idea was to tell him he was crazy and hang up the phone, but
part of her was hoping that he was right. Psyche wanted Auto to give up the
delusion that they were still a couple, partly so she’d be free to see where
she stood with Xena, but partly because she wanted Auto to be happy. He was
still her friend, after all, and she knew if someone didn’t give him a little
shove he was never going to admit to himself what he really wanted.
That was the reason she’d showed up at the club with Auto in tow a few hours
after Cupid called her, and it was the reason she was going along with Cupid’s
plan to fix up Auto and Iolaus. She knew there was a good chance that it would
backfire on all of them, but as long as she played her cards right Auto
wouldn’t figure it out. There was a chance that Iolaus was smarter than he
looked, but she was pretty sure he wouldn’t guess what they were up to. Xena,
on the other hand – she might figure out at least part of it, and Psyche really
didn’t want Xena to think that she was actually planning to sleep with Auto and
Iolaus.
Cupid had promised her that nobody would know, though, and there wasn’t much
she could do besides trust him. Well, that or call it off, and now that they
were actually in the club it was probably a little late to take it back. She
couldn’t back out without disappointing Cupid, anyway, and that was a hard
thing to do face-to-face. Maybe over the phone she could have said no, but once
they were actually in the same room she knew she’d let him talk her right back
into it.
She sighed and glanced around the already crowded club, looking for any sign of
Cupid and Strife. There was no sign of them yet, but when her gaze fell on
Iolaus she nudged Auto in the ribs and gestured toward the bar. “There’s
Iolaus.”
“Who?” Auto shouted over the music, frowning as he scanned the crowd.
”You know, Strife’s friend,” Psyche shouted back. She rolled her eyes when she
realized Auto didn’t even know his name; she hadn’t expected it to be all that
easy, but she’d at least thought Auto knew who he was.
“Oh, him,” Auto said when he finally spotted the boy in question, and Psyche
glanced up at him long enough to determine that he looked about as interested
as he usually did during math class.
“He’s kind of cute,” Psyche prompted. “He’s pretty nice, too. Way nicer than
that other one…what’s his name? Hercules?”
“He’s alright.” Auto watched Iolaus order a drink before he turned back to the
crowd, glancing toward the door every few seconds as though he was waiting for
someone. Finally he looked at Psyche again, raising his eyebrows when he found
her grinning at him. “What, you mean you like him? He doesn’t really seem like
the type that would go for it.”
“Sure he does.” Psyche turned her grin up just enough to look enthusiastic,
stealing another glance at Iolaus. He was still standing at the bar looking
around, and she couldn’t help thinking that he looked an awful lot like a lost
puppy. She felt a little bad about what she was about to do to him, but Cupid
kept insisting that he’d thank them for it in the end. Even Strife seemed to
not completely hate the idea, at least according to Cupid, and Strife knew
Iolaus better than either of them. “He’s probably just never thought of it.”
Auto didn’t answer, but she could practically see the wheels turning in his
head when she looked up at him again. She’d known he’d be the easier of the two
of them to convince, but she wanted him to at least like Iolaus. It wouldn’t do
her much good to set this whole thing up if Auto was just going through the
motions because he thought she wanted him to. Conversation wasn’t usually a
prerequisite to any of their conquests, but considering the circumstances she
was hoping it might help. “Let’s go say hi.”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him forward through the crowd, not bothering to
wait for an answer before she made her way to the bar and stopped in front of
Iolaus. “Hey,” she said, turning on her most charming smile when the blond
glanced at her. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
“Oh. Hey,” Iolaus said, glancing from Psyche to Auto and then to the door again
before he turned back to her. “Yeah…uh, Xena said they’d be here. I haven’t
seen them yet, though.”
“Cupid’s probably having hair issues or something,” Psyche said, rolling her
eyes dramatically. “He called this afternoon and said to meet them here, but I
haven’t heard from him since. You wanna see if we can find a table?”
“I don’t know, it looks like they’re all taken,” Iolaus said, but before he
even finished speaking Psyche turned away from him. She caught Auto leaning
toward the other boy out of the corner of her eye, swallowing a smirk when she
heard him stage-whisper.
“There’s no such thing as ‘taken’ when it comes to Psyche,” Auto said. “She can
get a table any time, anywhere.”
She couldn’t see Iolaus’ reaction without turning around and looking at him
again, but she could tell from the way Auto’s voice changed that he was already
slipping into his role in the game. She pushed down another surge of guilt and
squared her shoulders, flipping long hair over her shoulder before she marched
up to a table at the center of the room. There was a couple huddled so close
together they were practically sharing a chair, and she rolled her eyes as she
planted her hands on the edge of the table.
“You son of a bitch,” she growled, just loud enough to get their attention
without attracting the attention of everyone around them. The couple looked up
simultaneously, and she swallowed a smirk at the fear that flashed in the
girl’s eyes. “Who the fuck is she?” she snapped, nodding curtly in the
direction of the girl.
“Who the hell are you?” the girl snapped right back, but she shook off her
boyfriend’s hand as she glanced from him back to Psyche.
“I’m his girlfriend, you stupid whore. At least I was until I saw what bad
taste he has. Jesus, if you’re gonna cheat on me at least find somebody decent.
This is insulting,” she added, casting another quick, dismissive glance at the
other girl.
“Your girlfriend?” the girl said, her voice rising an octave as she turned to
look at her boyfriend. Psyche almost felt bad for doing it, but it was always
so easy that she couldn’t help wondering if she was doing the girl a favor.
Anybody that was that sure their boyfriend would cheat on them probably needed
to rethink their relationship.
This time it was almost too easy, because the girl was already up and out of
her chair. Psyche watched her go, a smirk turning up the corners of her mouth
when she looked down at the shell-shocked boyfriend.
“Who…what the fuck are you doing?” he asked, confusion winning out over the
anger in his eyes.
“You better go after her,” Psyche answered, nodding in the direction of the
door. “She looked pretty pissed.”
“Hell, I’ll go after her,” Auto interjected, grinning over Psyche’s shoulder at
the other guy. “She was pretty hot. And she’s probably gonna want a shoulder to
cry on now that she knows what a scumbag her boyfriend is.”
For a second the guy looked torn between staying and taking them both on or
going after his girlfriend, but as soon as he stood up and realized just how
big Auto was he muttered something they didn’t catch and took off in the
direction of the exit. Psyche sank into the chair the girl had vacated and
looked up at Iolaus, grinning at his slightly dazed expression. “Best seat in
the house,” she said, raising her eyebrows as Auto put his hands on the other
boy’s shoulders and pushed him gently into a chair.
“That was…really fucked up,” Iolaus said, shaking his head when they just
grinned at him. “You guys do this a lot?”
“That’s nothing,” Psyche answered, glancing at Auto in time to catch his amused
grin. “We’ve got tons of tricks. If you’re nice to us maybe we’ll show you a
few of them.”
She’d never seen anybody turn quite that shade of red before, but Auto looked
pretty amused by Iolaus’ blush so she figured it was worth it. Besides, he had
to be smarter than he looked if he’d already caught on to the fact that she was
flirting with him, and that meant this might not be so hard to pull together
after all. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died on his lips
as he looked over her shoulder. Psyche felt someone standing behind her as soon
as Iolaus looked past her, and she glanced over her shoulder in time to see
Xena frowning down at them.
“What’s the matter?” Xena asked Iolaus, ignoring Auto and Psyche as she watched
Iolaus turn an even deeper shade of red.
“Nothing,” he muttered, dropping his gaze to the table as Xena pulled out an
empty chair and sat down next to Psyche.
It was obvious from Xena’s expression that she didn’t believe him, but she let
it go and nodded at Auto before turning to Psyche. “Have you guys seen Strife?
He was supposed to meet me here.”
“Cupid called and told us to show up,” Psyche answered. “We’ve been here almost
twenty minutes and they haven’t showed yet. Think we’re being stood up?”
Xena shrugged and glanced toward the door again, but it was hard to see much of
anything through the crush of bodies in the club. “They probably just got
distracted. I swear you could drop a bomb on them when they’re together and
they wouldn’t even notice.”
“Men,” Psyche whispered conspiratorially, evoking a small smile from Xena. She
grinned back for a long moment before remembering herself and stealing a quick
glance at Auto, but he and Iolaus both seemed to be oblivious to the
conversation on the other side of the table. They weren’t looking at each
other, but they were both sitting with their arms resting on the table, and if
Psyche didn’t know better she’d swear they were doing everything they could to
get as close together as possible without actually touching. She knew it was
just wishful thinking, but it was kind of cute to watch Iolaus catch himself
and stop just short of coming into contact with any part of Auto whenever he
reached for his beer.
Sitting at the table without Cupid and Strife felt weirder than she would have
expected, and for the first time in her life Psyche wasn’t really sure how to
act. Normally she’d just turn on the ever-present charm and flirt with
everybody around her, but she didn’t want to give Xena the wrong idea and she
really didn’t want to give Iolaus and Auto the wrong idea. So she wasn’t sure
what to do with herself, and she ended up by clasping and unclasping her hands
over and over as she looked around the club.
Evidently everyone else was just as uncomfortable as she was, because a few
tortured moments later Auto cleared his throat and stood up. “You guys want
drinks?” he asked, glancing at Psyche and Xena.
“Yeah, sure,” Psyche answered, placing her beer order and then listening while
Xena requested something called a Blue Cowboy.
“I’ll help you,” Iolaus offered, standing up to follow Auto through the crowd.
Psyche swallowed a grin as she watched the two of them disappear together,
hoping it was a sign that Cupid was right about Auto and Iolaus being right for
each other. Then again, Iolaus might just be an especially nice guy, or maybe
he was just freaked out about the fact that she’d been flirting with him. He
was definitely hard to read, and considering Cupid and Strife weren’t around to
help her figure it out she wasn’t sure what to think.
Then there was Xena. She hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to the other girl since
that night in the alley behind the club, and she had no idea if Xena thought
about her at all, let alone what she thought. Xena was even harder to read than
Iolaus, and Psyche had been with Auto for so long that she wasn’t really used
to having to guess whether or not someone was interested in her. They really
hadn’t talked at all, and just because she was attracted to Xena didn’t mean
Xena was attracted to her. It was entirely possible that Xena just thought of
her as ‘Cupid’s annoying friend’ or ‘that high school chick’.
Psyche had never really been the type to back down from a challenge, though,
and she could have sworn there was at least a tiny spark of interest in Xena’s
eyes that night in the alley. It was easier with guys; all she had to do with
them was bat her eyelashes and act like they were smarter than her and they
were putty in her hands, but she was up for the challenge of someone like Xena.
She had a feeling it would be worth the effort, anyway.
“I haven’t seen you since that night with Herc and that girl,” Psyche said,
stopping just short of rolling her eyes at herself when she heard the words
come out of her mouth. It was probably the worst subject she could have brought
up, but it wasn’t like she could take it back. “How’s that going?”
Xena shrugged noncommittally, her lips turning up in a wry half-grin. “I
haven’t seen either of them, so I guess that’s a pretty good sign that
everything’s going okay for them.”
“Sorry,” Psyche said. “Sore subject?”
“I guess Strife’s right, it’s probably just as well that it’s all out in the
open. That way I won’t waste any more time wanting something that’s not going
to happen.”
“Still, rejection is never fun. And when your friend moves in on someone you
like…” Psyche trailed off, willing herself to shut up before she said anything
else that would make Xena never want to talk to her again.
“It’s really not that big a deal,” Xena assured her, shifting in her seat and
glancing in the direction of the door again. It was obvious that she was a
little uncomfortable, and Psyche could have kicked herself for opening her
mouth and pouring salt in the other girl’s wound. She wasn’t used to tripping
over her own tongue, and for once she understood how Cupid must have felt the
first time he talked to Strife.
“So did Strife mention the graduation party I’m having? I told Cupe to tell him
to invite you.”
Xena shifted her attention back to Psyche, her blue eyes dancing with
amusement. “No, he didn’t mention it.”
“Well you’re invited. It’s not that big a deal, just the usual. Food, a band,
that kind of thing. We’ve got a pool too, so if you want to swim bring your
suit. I’d offer to let you borrow one of mine, but I don’t think we’re the same
size.”
As she spoke Psyche’s gaze wandered over the other girl’s form, and she was
struck for the first time by how close they were sitting. She knew Xena was
strong; watching her on stage for a few minutes was enough to tell anyone that,
but she’d never really thought about how small she must seem in comparison. She
swallowed against the shiver that rolled through her when their gazes locked
again, hoping she didn’t look as flushed as she felt as she waited for Xena to
say something.
“Thanks,” Xena finally said. “I’ll try to make it.”
Psyche felt herself nod jerkily and turned abruptly away from the other girl,
pretending to scan the crowd for any sign of their friends. She had no idea
what it was about Xena that reduced her to a babbling idiot; this had never
happened to her before, not even with the other girls that she and Auto had
been with before. Then again, their usual system was that he’d pick out the
guys and she’d pick out the girls, then she’d seduce the guys and leave the
girls to Auto. So she’d never had to work at a conversation with any of the
girls she was attracted to, and the whole thing was a little overwhelming.
She was so relieved when Auto and Iolaus finally reappeared and set their
drinks down that she grinned a little too eagerly, closing her hands around her
beer and leaning forward. “Iolaus, did Auto invite you to my graduation party?”
Iolaus stole a quick glance at Auto before he looked over at Psyche again,
shaking his head when he met her gaze. “He…uh…he didn’t mention it.”
“Well you’re invited. Strife’s coming, and so is Xena. So it’s not like you
won’t know anybody there. Oh, and Cupe too, but you probably already figured
that.” She knew she was babbling again, but somehow she’d lost control over her
own tongue. As soon as she focused her attention on Auto she felt Xena tense
next to her, and she instantly wondered if Xena was in on Cupid’s plan to set
up Auto and Iolaus. Strife might let her in on it; she was his cousin, after
all, and suddenly Psyche wished she’d figured out a way to ask instead of
bringing up Xena’s crush on the blonde girl from the club. Pretty much anything
would have been better than bringing up Xena’s crush, but she couldn’t do
anything about it now. She just wished she knew where the hell Cupid and Strife
were.
Right on cue the happy couple appeared at her elbow, grinning like a pair of
idiots as they pulled the last two chairs away from the table and sat down.
“Hey,” they said in unison, prompting eye rolls from at least half their
friends.
“Where the hell were you two?” Psyche snapped, then she made a face and shook
her head. “On second thought, I don’t want to know.”
“We got a little hung up,” Cupid answered, matching her mock disgust with an
unrelenting grin. “So did we miss anything?”

                        Part Twenty-Nine – Third Wheel
Confusion was a natural state for Iolaus. He'd gotten used to it a long time
ago; seeing Strife make out with a guy for the first time had totally confused
him, and watching Hercules go through girls like they were disposable confused
him even more. Walking in on Cupid and Strife in the shower together…confusing
was an understatement. Sure, it was possible he'd mentioned in passing that he
thought Cupid was a good-looking guy, but that didn't mean he was attracted to
him. He could appreciate a good-looking guy on a purely intellectual level,
after all, but walking into that bathroom and seeing Cupid dripping wet and…
He shivered and closed his eyes against the memory, picking up his beer and
draining half the contents of the bottle. It was definitely a bad thing to
picture, especially when Cupid and Strife were sitting right across the table
from him. Besides, it wasn't like he wanted Cupid. He was a good kid, but
Iolaus wouldn't do that to Strife, even if he thought there was any chance in
hell Cupid would go for him. Besides, he wasn't into guys. He was just…curious.
It was natural, right? One of his best friends was gay, so it was natural for
him to wonder what it was that attracted Strife to other guys. He'd clung
fervently to that theory for years, but after walking in and seeing Cupid
washing Strife's hair…that shouldn't have made him hard, should it? Wasn't
there something wrong with that? It was just hair, after all; it wasn't like
he'd walked in and found Cupid on his knees…but there went his imagination
again, careening into areas best left buried deep in his subconscious.
Everything about Cupid was strange, even the kids he hung out with. He'd been
pretty sure Psyche was sleeping with Auto, but if he didn't know better he
would have sworn she was flirting with him earlier. Then when they were
standing at the bar waiting for the bartender to mix Xena's drink he was almost
sure he'd felt Auto's hand on his ass. It lasted barely a second, and when he'd
looked over at the other guy Auto was staring straight ahead like he didn't
even remember Iolaus was standing next to him. Hell, it could have been an
accident; the club was crowded, and they were both getting jostled from both
sides as kids fought their way to the bar.
That didn't help him any with the fact that he'd kind of liked it, though.
Okay, he'd really liked it; he liked the idea, anyway, only he didn't know what
to do about it. It changed…everything, starting with the fact that Herc was
never gonna talk to him again. Not that he was doing much of that lately
anyway, but they were still best friends and Iolaus didn't want to lose that.
Eventually Herc would get sick of listening to Gabbie's mouth and he'd come
around, and then they'd go back to playing shows and acting like nothing had
ever happened. Maybe it would take him awhile to get over Xena punching him,
but once he was done licking his wounds he'd be back, Iolaus was sure of it.
So he couldn't get all worked up about some guy that may or may not have hit on
him, especially a guy that had a girlfriend. And what the fuck was that about,
anyway? Shouldn’t Auto have been looking to pound the crap out of him just for
looking at Psyche? He didn't seem phased at all that his girlfriend was
flirting with another guy, though, and Iolaus had no idea what to make of any
of it.
What he really wanted was to talk to Xena, or at the very least Strife. One of
them would probably be able to figure out what was going on; they were better
at this stuff than him, and at least they could tell him he was crazy to think
Auto was hitting on him. He'd just been trying way too hard not to think about
Cupid and Strife lately, and it was starting to get to him. But he didn't have
a prayer of getting a few minutes alone with either of his friends, because
they were all still gathered around the table talking over the band.
Well, Cupid and Strife were whispering to each other, and Auto and Psyche
seemed to have some kind of weird nonverbal communication thing going with
their hands and eyes. Xena was actually watching the band, but she was the one
that had wanted to see them in the first place so it wasn't that surprising. He
still wasn't sure what he was doing there; lately he felt pretty much like the
third wheel even in his own apartment, and it wasn't any better tonight just
because he wasn't the only one without a date. Auto and Psyche were a couple,
sort of, which left him and Xena, but she was pretty much focused on the show.
So he'd spent most of the evening trying not to think too hard about what was
going on with everyone else at the table, alternating between pretending to be
interested in the band and seeing how much beer he could drink and still find
his way home.
He wasn't sure how he felt about the possibility of Auto hitting on him. Sure,
he liked the idea of a guy being interested in him, but he wasn't sure if he
was brave enough to do anything about it. And he wasn't sure what to make of
Auto in particular; they'd barely even spoken more than a handful of sentences
to each other, and what he had seen of Auto so far he wasn't all that crazy
about. Which meant he shouldn’t want to do…whatever, at least not with Auto. He
didn’t think so, anyway, but the more he thought about it the more confused he
got.
Was it okay to be attracted to somebody that he didn’t really like? And was he
actually attracted or was he just jealous that Strife and Herc both had
somebody and he didn’t? If that was the case wouldn’t he be focusing on Psyche,
though? She was pretty; she was one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen, and
even if she was a little scary he’d feel better about having a hopeless crush
on her than he would about having a thing for her boyfriend. Only Auto was the
one he kept thinking about, and Auto was the one he kept stealing glances at
whenever he thought nobody was looking.
It was just curiosity. He’d told himself that at least ten times since he felt
Auto’s hands on his shoulders; that particular touch had surprised him so much
that he didn’t even put up a fight when the other boy pushed him into a chair
and sat down next to him. Since then he’d been trying his hardest not to think
about that touch, but every time he found his hands wandering anywhere near the
body next to his he could feel the pressure of fingers against his shoulders
all over again.
There was definitely something wrong with him, because guys had touched him
before and he hadn’t freaked out about it. Hell, Strife had touched him a
million times and he’d never thought twice about it, but suddenly this kid from
the suburbs that he didn’t even like had him questioning his entire world view.
Okay, so he’d questioned it before, and he’d had a few thoughts about his best
friend that Hercules would kill him for. But that was somebody he knew and
liked, and this kid…maybe it was just because Iolaus had a feeling Auto swung
both ways, and he’d never actually met a bisexual guy before. That was even
more confusing for him than hanging out with Strife, because if Auto could be
comfortable being bi that meant it was possible Iolaus wasn’t just confused
after all.
“Hey.” The voice buzzed close to his ear, and he swallowed hard and looked up
to find Auto watching him. “You okay? You look like you’re gonna puke or
something.”
Iolaus nodded briefly, forcing his expression back to neutral. “Yeah, I’m…I’m
gonna get another beer. Anybody else want one?”
He barely listened to his friends as they shouted drink orders over the music,
turning away from the table and making a beeline for the bar. He just needed a
minute to pull himself together, either that or he was going to lose it and
embarrass himself even more than he already had. When he reached the edge of
the room he stopped and took a deep breath, willing his pulse to slow down.
There was no way his heart was racing just from the sound of some guy’s voice
in his ear; Auto had only been talking directly into his ear to make himself
heard over the music, it didn’t mean anything.
He’d almost convinced himself that he believed that when he felt a hand land on
his back, and he looked up to find Auto standing next to him. “Figured you
could use some help,” Auto said, grinning in a way that made Iolaus wonder what
he was missing. “Look, are you sure you’re alright? You don’t look so good.
Seriously.”
“Thanks,” Iolaus muttered, running a self-conscious hand over his face.
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” Auto said as Iolaus shoved through the crowd
to the front of the bar. A moment later Auto was next to him again, leaning
against the bar as he turned to face Iolaus. “I didn’t mean you look bad.
Psyche thinks you look pretty good. She likes you.”
“What?”
“I said she likes you,” Auto repeated, smirking at Iolaus’ shocked expression.
He knew his eyes were wide and his mouth was probably hanging open, but there
was no way he could have heard Auto right.
“I thought…isn’t she your girlfriend?”
Auto shrugged and leaned forward a little, close enough for his breath to warm
Iolaus’ cheek. “We have an understanding. Didn’t Cupe tell you about that?”
Iolaus shook his head, the drinks and pretty much everything else he’d ever
known forgotten as he tried to wrap his mind around what Auto was telling him.
“So you mean you don’t care? I mean if she hooks up with other guys?”
“Why should I? I mean as long as I’m invited to the party, right?”
As soon as he said it Auto turned away, catching the bartender’s eye and
shouting out their drink order. Carefully Iolaus closed his mouth, then he
swallowed hard and shook his head to try to clear the fog that was threatening
to settle in his brain. The strangest part was that it actually made sense; the
flirting from both of them, and the way Auto acted whenever he was around Cupid
and Strife…really he should have guessed it, and maybe he would have if he’d
bothered to think about it. But that meant that they both wanted…him? At the
same time?
“So you guys…before, when Psyche said…she meant…?”
Auto shrugged again and picked up one of the beers the bartender set in front
of him, taking a long pull from it before he handed it to Iolaus. “If you’re
interested.” He paused and looked the shorter boy up and down, a grin slowly
spreading across his face. “Could be fun. I’ll take these back, you wait for
whatever that is Xena’s drinking.”
All Iolaus could do was nod, staring down at the beer in his hand as Auto
walked away from him. He had no idea what had just happened, but he was pretty
sure he was in way over his head, and he had a feeling it was only going to get
worse.
~
Auto grinned to himself as he walked away from Iolaus. He hadn’t even thought
about the blond before, but things had been a little slow lately and if Psyche
was into him Auto was happy to go along with it. Not that he would have needed
much convincing; Iolaus was kind of cute when he was confused, and even though
he was a little shorter than Auto’s usual type he was pretty strong. Auto could
tell that just from the grip he’d gotten on the other boy’s shoulders earlier,
and he had a feeling if Iolaus was interested it wouldn’t be a waste of his
time.
Usually he let Psyche be the one to actually come onto the guy; she was better
at it than him, and he didn’t like to approach strange guys in the clubs they
hung out in. There was no telling when one of them would turn out to be some
kind of homophobe, and the last thing he needed was to get a reputation for
coming onto straight guys. Not that he was ashamed of the fact that he was bi,
but he knew how the punk scene worked and he was willing to play the game. It
wasn’t like he was gay like Cupid or Strife, so he didn’t think of it as hiding
anything. It was just a question of discretion.
He had to admit he got off on the way Iolaus kept stealing looks at him all
night, though, and when the other boy left the table Auto couldn’t resist
following. It was just so easy to get a reaction out of him, and Auto kind of
liked the way he looked when he blushed. If they hadn’t been standing in the
middle of a punk club he might even have leaned over and kissed Iolaus just to
see what he’d do, but he knew if he did they’d end up fighting their way out of
the crowd or worse, getting jumped as soon as they left.
So he was biding his time, but he was pretty sure Iolaus was going to go for
it. He’d leave it to Psyche to seal the deal at her party, and by then Iolaus
probably would have thought so much about it he wouldn’t be able to say no if
he wanted to. It was something to look forward to, anyway, and it meant maybe
Psyche had changed her mind about breaking up with him after all.
He’d been avoiding her for most of the week because he didn’t want to have that
conversation, so he hadn’t been expecting her to point out Iolaus and start
flirting. From the way she kept looking at Xena he’d figured maybe Psyche
wanted to give that angle another try, but she hadn’t said a word to him about
it. He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, even if he
hadn’t picked Iolaus himself.
When he got back to the table Cupid and Psyche were whispering about something,
but as soon as he set their beers down Strife nudged Cupid in the side and the
blond looked up, smiling sheepishly at Auto. “Hey,” he shouted over the music
as he picked up a beer, “where’s Iolaus?”
“He’s waiting on Xena’s drink,” Auto answered, sinking into his chair and
picking up his own beer. He had a feeling he was missing something, but he
couldn’t tell from Cupid or Psyche’s expression what it was. It always bothered
him when Cupid and Psyche acted like they had a secret, but for some reason
lately it was really getting under his skin. Maybe it was the fact that Psyche
had been talking about breaking up with him just last week, or maybe it was the
fact that she and Cupid spent so much time talking about him like he wasn’t
sitting right there. Either way it was starting to annoy him, and he wasn’t
sure how much more of it he could take. “What’d I miss?”
“Nothing,” Cupid answered, stealing a quick glance at Psyche. “We were just
talking about the party.”
Auto nodded and let the subject drop, glancing over his shoulder in the
direction of the bar. Iolaus was still standing there, and it was hard not to
laugh when the other boy looked up and caught Auto staring at him. He turned an
interesting shade of red and looked down at the bar again, but it was enough to
make Auto forget to be annoyed at his friends.
A few hours ago he wouldn’t have been able to picture Iolaus from memory, but
at least he provided a distraction. It was something to do, anyway, and
flirting with somebody that was obviously a little freaked out by the attention
was always fun. Kind of like the way Psyche got off on scaring girls into
giving up their tables. Anything was better than watching Cupid and Strife
doing everything short of making out at the table, something they both knew
would get them attention they didn’t really want in the club. As it was he was
pretty sure they were doing something sappy like holding hands under the table,
and it was a struggle not to roll his eyes every time he looked over at them.
He was starting to wonder if Iolaus was ever coming back when he felt the other
boy sit down next to him, and he glanced over long enough to raise an eyebrow
at the blond. Right on cue Iolaus blushed and looked down at the table, picking
up his beer and draining half its contents. Auto grinned and shook his head;
he’d seen Cupid blush that way before, but Iolaus was at least 20 and Auto had
a feeling he’d been around a little. So he wasn’t sure why the older boy was so
nervous, but he was definitely looking forward to finding out.
“Where’s that other guy?” Auto asked, using Hercules as an excuse to lean a
little closer. “Don’t you guys usually play on the weekends?”
Iolaus glanced over at Xena before he turned back to Auto, blinking when he
realized how close the other boy was to him. “Yeah…uh, Herc’s kinda pissed
right now. That whole thing with Gabbie.”
“What’s the story there?” Auto asked, resting his elbows on the table to give
him an excuse to lean a little further into Iolaus’ personal space.
Another glance at Xena let Auto know that Iolaus was worried she’d overhear
them. “It’s a long story. It’ll blow over as soon as Herc gets tired of being
mad at everybody.”
Auto nodded and stole a quick glance at Psyche, smirking when he caught her
watching them out of the corner of his eye. “So are you coming to Psyche’s
party or what?”
“Yeah…uh, yeah. I guess,” Iolaus stammered. He wouldn’t win any awards for
being a great speaker, but Auto wasn’t really interested in the way he talked.
Still, the longer he spent looking at Iolaus the more he was interested in what
he could do with his mouth, even if it was just because he didn’t have anything
better to think about. It beat being pissed that Cupid was ignoring him,
anyway, and it sure as hell beat trying to find new ways to avoid getting the
break-up speech from Psyche.
That was the part he still didn’t get, but he was hoping she’d just lost
interest in Xena and decided it wasn’t worth the effort of breaking up with
him. He was pretty sure that should bother him on some level, but the truth was
he didn’t care as long as it meant everything stayed just the way it was for a
little while longer. He just wanted things to stay the same until after
graduation, then they could all go their separate ways. Cupid and Psyche would
be ditching him for college soon enough, so he just wanted to hang on to what
he had until he couldn’t anymore. He didn’t think that was so much to ask for.

                           Part Thirty – Mind Games
As soon as he rang the buzzer for his dad's apartment Cupid had the strangest
urge to turn and bolt in the opposite direction, but he knew if he left Strife
standing there by himself he'd never live it down. Besides, he wanted to get
this over with. It wasn't even that big a deal, not really. It was practically
like moving in with Ares and Joxer, only this way he wouldn't cramp their
style. That was the argument he was hoping would work, but the closer he got to
having to say it out loud the less confident he felt.
By the time Strife steered him into Ares' and Joxer's living room Cupid's heart
was pounding so hard that he was sure they'd all be able to hear it, but if
Joxer thought there was anything wrong he didn't show it. Instead he grinned at
both of them and led them toward the kitchen. "Ares got up at some ungodly hour
this morning and started cooking," Joxer said, his voice hushed so Ares
wouldn't hear him. "There's enough food in there to feed an army."
He wasn't exaggerating, as they discovered when they followed Joxer into the
kitchen. Cupid felt Strife's hand squeeze his convulsively, and he looked over
at the other boy in time to see Strife choke back a laugh. The table was piled
with at least three different kinds of eggs, a tray of blueberry pancakes and
two different kinds of syrup, and Cupid was pretty sure he saw his great-aunt
Hestia's cranberry scones on a plate on the counter. There was fruit salad and
fruit juice, sausages, sliced ham, and from the smell emanating from the stove,
Cupid was pretty sure Ares was frying bacon.
"Geez, Dad, we didn't bring the whole city with us," Cupid said, letting go of
Strife's hand to cross the kitchen and pat his father's shoulder
affectionately. "Think you went a little overboard?"
"Considering what passes for nutrition in your eyes, I seriously doubt it,"
Ares answered, turning off the burner and carefully arranging the bacon on a
plate before he turned to face his son. "If I know you, you haven't eaten
anything all weekend besides pizza and beer."
"I didn't have that much beer." Cupid grinned at his father's disapproving
look; it was obvious that despite his attempts to look annoyed, his dad was
happy to see him. That would make it easier to broach the subject of the loft,
anyway, and he was hoping that Joxer would take his side and help convince Ares
that it was the best solution for everybody.
He waited until they were all seated around the table, plates piled high with
food, before he tried to bring it up. He'd already warned Strife that he was
planning to try to catch his father off-guard over breakfast, but he knew
Strife wasn't going to be much help in trying to convince Ares. Strife was
still too scared of Ares to try to talk him into anything, and Cupid had no
idea when he was going to get over that.
"So I've been thinking about what we talked about," he said, glancing pointedly
at his father over the rim of his glass.
"Oh?" Ares asked, a single eyebrow raised expectantly.
Cupid swallowed hard and put his glass down again, glancing down at his plate
and clearing his throat before he forced himself to look up again. "Yeah.
Seeing the dojo yesterday made me think of it. I mean it makes way more sense
for me to live in the city, but I don't want to cramp your style. This place
isn't that big, after all, and the loft's just sitting there empty. Plus it's
already furnished and it'd almost be like having me living with you. I just
wouldn't be sleeping in your guestroom."
"And this just occurred to you yesterday."
Okay, so he hadn't expected Ares to be so calm about it, but then again he'd
never actually considered the possibility that his father might be way ahead of
him. He should have known that Ares would have seen this coming, and he felt
his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach along with all his hopes for the
best summer of his life. "Well, no…I mean I've thought about it a little, I
just wasn't sure…"
"You thought if you just asked me directly I'd say no."
"Well, yeah." Great, now he sounded like he was whining, and suddenly he felt
like he was fourteen again and trying to con his parents into letting him ride
the subway to New York by himself. He stole a furtive glance at Strife, but his
boyfriend's gaze was trained carefully on the food he was currently pushing
around his plate.
Ares shook his head and stood up, crossing to the counter to pour himself
another cup of coffee. As soon as he realized his father was just going to
dismiss the idea without any discussion whatsoever Cupid's temper flared, and
he had to dig his fingers into his thigh under the table to keep from yelling
at the back of his father's head. "Aren't you even gonna hear me out?"
"Cupid…" Joxer began, reaching across the table to cover Cupid's hand with his.
Cupid knew the older man was just trying to calm him down before he and his
father got into an argument, but he was already too angry at Ares to listen to
Joxer.
"No," he interrupted, pulling his hand away from Joxer's, "he always does this.
He doesn't listen, he just hears what he wants to hear and then he decides it's
a bad idea just because he knows it's what I want."
As soon as the words were out of his mouth Ares turned around, his expression a
mixture of amusement and anger as he stared down his son. "I see. So you
deliberately tried to manipulate me to get your way, and I'm being
unreasonable? What's next? On moving day you tell me Strife's moving in with
you?"
He was so busted, and he felt all the color drain from his face as he watched
his father sit down across from him again. And it wasn't fair, because he'd had
this whole thing worked out for weeks and now it was all gone. There was no way
his father was going to let him move in with his boyfriend, and there was no
way his mother was going to let him move to the city unless she knew he was at
least sort of under Ares' roof.
"Well in all fairness, Ares, you haven't seen Strife's apartment," Joxer
interjected, smiling innocently when Cupid shot a glare at him. That wasn't
what Joxer was supposed to say; Cupid always counted on Joxer to help him
convince his father when he was being stubborn, not make matters worse by
bringing up the condition of the apartment where Cupid had been spending his
weekends for over a month.
"It's not that bad." Strife's voice was low, almost as though he was afraid to
remind any of them that he was still sitting there. His gaze wandered to Ares
for a split second before he turned his attention to his uncle, his expression
plaintive. "Ya really hate it that much, Unc?"
"No, of course not," Joxer answered, smiling reassuringly at his nephew. "It's
not your fault that the cost of housing in New York is ridiculous. But if you
boys are determined to move in together you're probably going to end up sharing
a studio."
"Can we please get back to the subject?" Ares said, his voice a little louder
than necessary considering how close they were all sitting. "Cupid, do you have
anything to say for yourself?"
"Dad, come on," Cupid answered, ignoring the fact that he really was whining
now. He didn't care how young he sounded, it just wasn't fair that his father
dismissed the idea just because he didn't like the fact that Cupid was in love.
"You and Joxer don't want me around all the time, this place isn't big enough
for any kind of privacy. And if I move in with you I'm just gonna be over at
Strife's place all the time anyway. At least if we move into the loft you can
keep an eye on us."
For a long moment Ares stared at Cupid without saying anything, then he let out
a little snort of disbelief and looked over at Joxer. "Did you coach him?"
"Do you really think I'd go behind your back and put words in your son's
mouth?" Joxer asked.
"Yes."
The grin that tugged at the corners of Joxer's mouth only made Ares smile even
more brightly, and by the time Ares leaned forward and kissed Joxer Cupid was
thoroughly confused.
"Okay, I might," Joxer said when Ares released him, "but he didn't call and ask
for my advice."
"Wait a second," Cupid finally managed to spit out, turning his accusing glare
from his father to Joxer and back again. "You mean you both…"
"Please, Cupid, give me a little credit," Ares interrupted, spearing a piece of
pineapple on his fork and waving it in his son's general direction. "You think
I didn't know what you were up to when you showed up unannounced yesterday?
Asking to give Strife a tour of the dojo…I'm disappointed, Cupid, I really am.
There's only one room aside from the locker room and the loft, and I doubt
Strife has any interest in a tour of a locker room."
"So you knew the whole time and you were just messing with me? That's really
sick, Dad. How could you do that to your own son?"
"Cupe," Strife said, his voice low as he leaned toward Cupid and laid a hand on
the younger boy's arm, "now's probably a good time ta just shut up."
"Good advice," Ares said. "Smart kid."
"That's what I've been telling you," Joxer answered, glancing over at Strife
long enough to smile indulgently before he turned back to his breakfast.
"I never doubted you," Ares assured him. He glanced over at Cupid again,
raising his eyebrows at the sight of his son staring back at him with his jaw
hanging open. Then he reached across the table and picked up a plate of
scrambled eggs, piling a little more food on his plate before he turned his
attention back to his own breakfast. Just like that the conversation ended,
almost as though it had never started in the first place.
Cupid watched the two older men for a few minutes, both of them absorbed in
their food as though nothing had happened. He was positive he was missing
something, but he seemed to be the only one that was confused. Strife's hand
had left his arm almost as soon as it appeared, and when Cupid looked up at his
boyfriend Strife was engrossed in his breakfast again too. None of them seemed
at all surprised by what had just happened, not even Strife. It didn't make any
sense to Cupid, and even though there was a voice in the back of his head
telling him to take Strife's advice he just couldn't let it go.
"I don't get it."
Strife started laughing first; a choked, muted sound as the other boy pressed a
hand to his mouth to try to hold in his laughter. Joxer was next, followed
quickly by Ares. It wasn't long before all three of them were helpless, leaning
against the table and each other as they struggled to regain their composure.
Cupid had a feeling they were all laughing at him, and he was caught between
wanting to get up and walk out of the room and wanting to stay and find out
what the joke was. He really, really wanted to believe that Ares was going to
let him and Strife have the loft, but nobody had actually said it out loud yet
and with his father that could mean anything.
"Dad," he said through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching a little harder when
Ares started to laugh again.
"Okay, I'm sorry," Ares finally managed to choke out, sobering a little when he
saw how miserable Cupid looked. "You have to admit that you deserved it, son.
If you'd just been honest with me in the first place we could have discussed
this like adults."
"Somehow I doubt that," Cupid muttered over the sound of Joxer and Strife's
muted snickers. He shot a glare at his boyfriend but it had absolutely no
affect at all, and suddenly Cupid wondered if Strife had been in on the joke
from the beginning. "So can we have the loft or not?"
"Joxer and I talked it over last night," Ares answered, finally managing to get
his own laughter under control. "It's a big step, have you both really thought
this through?"
"Of course," Cupid lied, carefully avoiding Strife's gaze. Cupid had thought it
through, but he wasn't sure how much consideration Strife had given to the
reality of actually living together. He knew it would work, though, so it
didn't matter that they hadn't actually talked about it before yesterday.
Ares glanced over at Strife and then back at Cupid, letting out a resigned sigh
when he took in his son's determined expression. "Alright. As Joxer pointed
out, I'd rather know you're safe and have a decent roof over your heads than
worry about you getting shot in your own hallway."
"Thanks, Dad," Cupid said, his features lighting up in a bright grin. "You're
the best."
"Sure, I give him what he wants and suddenly I'm up for Father of the Year. A
few minutes ago he was ready to disown me." Ares rolled his eyes and looked
over at Joxer, smiling at the other man's amused expression before he turned
back to Cupid again. "Don't thank me yet. You still have to convince your
mother."
The mention of his mother was enough to dampen Cupid's good mood, but not
enough to ruin the moment for him. He looked over at Strife again, his heart
skipping a beat when he found the other boy watching him. As soon as their eyes
met the reality of the situation sank in for the first time, and he swallowed
hard as he realized that they were really going to move in together. That was
more than a big step; it was huge, possibly the biggest thing that would ever
happen to him. He had no idea what he was getting himself into, but he was sure
it was the right decision. He'd never wanted anything so much in his life, and
once he convinced his mother there would be nothing standing in their way.
"There's a lot of work to be done before you can move in," Ares said, drawing
Cupid's attention back to the fact that his father was still sitting across
from him. "The whole place needs new paint, and I'm not sure if all the
appliances are still running. I haven't used that space for anything but
storage since I moved in here. You're both going to have to put in some long
hours working on it before it's even livable."
Cupid nodded automatically whenever his father paused for breath. He hadn't
really thought about the actual logistics of moving in, but the loft had looked
okay to him when he and Strife were up there the day before. Of course they
hadn't really spent a lot of time looking at the décor, but it wasn't like they
needed much. There was a bed, a bathroom and a fridge; that was pretty much all
Cupid cared about.
"I'm serious, Cupid," Ares said, frowning when Cupid nodded a little too
enthusiastically. "There's a lot to do up there, you can't just move in and
live in the mess. You're going to have to help me move a bunch of old equipment
out of there, and you'd both better be prepared for a lot of painting after
graduation."
"No problem," Strife interjected, glancing quickly at Cupid before he looked up
at Ares again. "My old man was in the contractors' union before he got sent up.
He taught me how ta do a whole bunch a stuff. Drywall, a little plumbin', that
kinda thing."
Cupid didn't miss the flicker of pride in Ares' eyes before he schooled his
features back into a frown. "Weren't you eight or nine when your father went to
prison?"
"Yeah, but Pop used ta take me ta work with him startin' when I was six or so.
Ma doesn't have a lot a patience fer kids, so during summer break I'd hang out
with Pop on the job. 'Til he got sent up, anyway. I picked up a few things, and
my granddad's a carpenter so he showed me some stuff too."
"Right, your grandfather the carpenter," Ares said. He ignored Joxer's muted
laugh and reached for Strife's plate, piling some more food on it before he
handed it back. "You boys better eat then, you'll need your strength. We've got
quite a project ahead of us."
Cupid had no idea what to make of Ares' smug expression, but Strife didn't seem
worried so he decided not to worry either. He didn't know anything about any of
the stuff they'd been talking about; in fact, he wasn't even sure what drywall
was, but he was impressed by the fact that Strife knew. He could tell Ares was
impressed too, and if renovating the loft was going to make Ares like Strife
more then Cupid was all for it. There was no way his mother could say no if
they went to all the trouble of cleaning up the loft, at least that was what he
told himself as he listened to Strife and Joxer trade stories about Joxer's
father.
He looked up and caught Ares watching him, a grin tugging at the corners of his
mouth as he met his father's gaze. Ares grinned back at him, and Cupid knew
from his father's expression that if they weren't sitting across from each
other Ares would have reached over to tousle his hair by now. For once he
almost wouldn't mind the gesture of affection; he wasn't sure what that meant,
but he decided to keep it to himself. It was enough that his dad had decided to
be cool about his living arrangements once he moved to New York. Everything was
starting to fall into place; the hardest part now would be waiting for
graduation to finally roll around.

                      Part Thirty-One – Significant Other
“I can’t believe he actually went for that.”
Psyche was perched cross-legged in the center of her bed, grinning at Cupid’s
expression. The shock still hadn’t worn off, and he’d spent the entire day at
school wandering around in an elated daze. Once they’d finally gotten out of
him that his father had agreed to let him move into the loft they’d understood
why he was practically giddy, but it wasn’t until he’d mentioned that Strife
was moving in with him that they really understood what Cupid was grinning
about.
“I know,” Cupid said, turning his head just enough to flash another grin at
Psyche. He was lying flat on his back across the end of her bed, arms folded
behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. She had a feeling he wasn’t
actually looking at the ceiling; in fact, she was pretty sure he didn’t even
know where the hell he was. “I guess he figures at least this way he’ll know
where I am.”
“Still, that’s kind of fucked up, don’t you think? I mean shacking up with your
boyfriend in the same place where your dad…”
“Auto.” Psyche’s voice was dangerously low as she interrupted the other boy,
looking away from Cupid long enough to cast a warning glare at Auto. She
couldn’t believe he’d bring up the way Cupid’s parents split up, especially not
when Cupid was obviously happier than he’d ever been. They hadn’t been friends
with him for most of high school, but they’d heard the stories and they knew
enough about the amount of crap he’d taken about his father to know better. At
least she’d always assumed Auto knew better, but he was staring back at her
with an expression that clearly said he didn’t know what her problem was.
“It’s okay,” Cupid said, but his boyish grin was gone and Psyche could have
kicked Auto for tossing a figurative bucket of water on Cupid’s good mood.
Okay, so he was a little too caught up in his own romantic notions, but that
was nothing new. He’d figure out soon enough that living with Strife was going
to be hard work, he didn’t need Auto raining on his parade before it even got
started.
“What?” Auto asked, slumping a little further into the chair in the corner of
Psyche’s bedroom. “Come on, Psyche, not even your folks would go for that.”
“They never say anything when they see you dragging your ass out of here in the
morning,” Psyche shot back, raising her eyebrows when he opened his mouth to
argue with her.
“No, he’s got a point.” Cupid pushed himself up on his elbows and glanced over
his shoulder at Auto. “I don’t know how my mom’s gonna take it. She’s always
hated that loft, she even hated sending me to stay there with Dad after they
split up.”
“Yeah, but it’s not your dad’s place anymore,” Psyche offered helpfully, hoping
to bring back some of Cupid’s good mood. “It’s your place now. Well, yours and
Strife’s, anyway. It’s gonna be great, Cupe. I’m really happy for you.”
She was rewarded with a slightly less brilliant version of Cupid’s grin, and
she smiled back at him before she looked over at Auto to make sure he wasn’t
going to open his big mouth again. She wasn’t sure what his problem was, but
she suspected it had something to do with the fact that Cupid was planning to
move in with Strife. He hadn’t said anything, but he’d been quiet since Cupid
announced his plans, and she knew Auto well enough to know that he still hadn’t
let go of his hang-up about Cupid.
Auto had been in a pretty good mood that morning at school, and Psyche had been
hoping it had something to do with the fact that Iolaus had agreed to come to
her party. As soon as he heard about Cupid’s plans to move in with Strife his
whole attitude changed, though, and she had to face the fact that he wasn’t
nearly as over his crush on Cupid as she’d hoped he was. That was the only
explanation that made sense, anyway, but she couldn’t just come right out and
ask him about it while Cupid was in the room.
“So when are you gonna tell your mom?” Auto asked, ignoring the look Psyche
shot him and focusing on Cupid.
Cupid sat up and glanced at the clock next to Psyche’s bed, frowning when he
realized how late it was. “She should be home from work, I guess I better get
it over with.”
“You don’t have to go already,” Psyche said, standing up to follow Cupid to the
door. “It’s still early.”
“Yeah, but if I don’t go now I’ll just chicken out." Cupid grinned and leaned
down to plant a kiss on her cheek, straightening up and glancing over her
shoulder long enough to wave at Auto. “See you guys later.”
She waved absently and watched until he was all the way down the hall before
she shut the door and turned back to Auto. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“What?”
Psyche rolled her eyes and pushed herself off the door, crossing back to her
bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress. “What’d you bring up Cupid’s dad
for? That was totally a cheap shot.”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Auto asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his
knees. “I mean it’s not like it’s a big secret.”
“Yeah, but you know how hard all that was for Cupid. I know you don’t like
Strife much, but Cupe’s supposed to be your friend.”
“I’m trying to be his friend,” Auto shot back. “Come on, Psyche, you’re not
gonna sit there and tell me you think they should move in together. He barely
even knows the guy.”
“They’re in love,” Psyche reminded him, shaking her head when he opened his
mouth to argue with her. “No, Auto, I mean it. I know you’re jealous, but
you’ve gotta back off or Cupe’s not gonna stick around for long.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Give me a break. I know you better than anybody, and I’ve seen the way you
look at him when he’s with Strife. You can’t tell me that’s not jealousy.” She
knew he was going to deny it, but she was tired of pretending she didn’t know
what was going on. And even if he had a point about Cupid and Strife moving too
fast that was no reason to bring up something he knew Cupid was embarrassed
about.
“I’m not…fine,” he relented when he looked up and saw her determined
expression. He let out a heavy sigh and ran his hands over his face, closing
his eyes for a long moment before he looked up again. “Maybe in the beginning I
was. He was always around, you know? And as soon as he met this guy it was like
he didn’t even know us anymore. But it’s not just that. I mean he’s moving to
New York to live with Strife, then you’ll be moving to New York for school, and
I’m gonna be stuck here.”
She closed her mouth as soon as his words sank in, her response dying on her
lips as she realized he was serious. They’d always talked about her moving to
New York and staying in the dorms to get away from her parents, but he’d never
wanted to go to college. She knew he probably couldn’t afford it anyway, but
he’d always hated school. It had never occurred to her that he felt like he was
getting left behind. “Come on, Auto,” she finally said, “it’s not like we’re
moving to Mars or something. It’s just a train ride away.”
“Yeah, I know.” Suddenly he sounded tired, like there was a lot more he wanted
to say but he couldn’t work up the energy to say it. “Look, Psyche, forget it,
okay? I’m sorry I brought up Cupid’s dad. I’ll tell him sorry next time I see
him.”
And now she felt bad for the way she’d been trying to break up with him for the
past few weeks, for the fact that she hadn’t even stopped to think about how he
felt, and for conspiring with Cupid to set him up with a guy he didn’t even
know. “Listen, if you want we can just forget the whole thing with Iolaus and
the party. It can just be you and me, if you want. Like it used to be.”
He looked up when she said it, and for a second she thought he might actually
take her up on it. It meant giving up what she was hoping would be the perfect
time to get to know Xena better, but Auto was her friend and if he wanted
things to be the way they used to be for one last night she wasn’t going to
turn him down. A second later he shook his head, though, and if she didn’t know
better she would have sworn his grin was a little self-conscious. “Nah, I
mean…if you like him, I don’t mind.”
“He’s pretty cute,” she answered noncommittally, leaning back on her hands in
an attempt to look nonchalant.
“Yeah. He’s a little shy too, you know? I was talking to him at the club this
weekend and he’s got this whole innocent thing going for him. I mean a guy like
that has to have seen some action, don’t you think? There's always a ton of
kids screaming at their shows.”
Psyche shrugged, barely managing to swallow a smirk. “Cupe says Strife’s pretty
sure he’s never done it with a guy.”
That got her exactly the reaction she'd been hoping for; slack jaw, wide brown
eyes, and she wasn't positive, but she might even have seen the beginnings of a
grin before he opened his mouth and ruined the affect. “Never?”
"Well it's not like it's abnormal or anything. Most guys don't, you know."
"Yeah, I know, but…" He trailed off, blinked a couple times, and looked down at
the floor. "I guess that explains the shy routine."
"Maybe. Or maybe he's just shy." She did grin that time, but it didn't matter
because he wasn't looking at her anyway. For a few minutes she'd been worried
that Auto really was having a hard time with the thought of them breaking up,
but now she was almost sure he was just upset about being left behind. That
wasn't going to happen, but she knew telling him wasn't going to make him feel
any better. He'd just have to see for himself that just because he wasn't
moving to the city didn't mean they'd stop being his friends, and maybe he'd
get sick of hanging out in Neptune eventually and move to the city with them.
"So are you ready to be somebody's first?"
He looked up sharply at that, frowning as he slumped down in his chair again.
"I don't know. You think he really wants to go through with it? I mean he
looked pretty freaked out when I was talking to him at the bar. At first I
thought it was kinda cute, but if he's not sure…"
"Trust me, Auto, that guy's the poster boy for repressed homosexuality. You'd
be doing him a favor." She was careful to omit herself from the equation
without making it obvious; Auto was never big on details, so chances were he
wouldn't pick up on it until it was too late. She didn't want to outright lie
to him, though, so if he asked her she was going to have to tell him about the
set-up.
"Yeah, maybe," he said, and she stifled a relieved sigh when his eyes took on a
far-away cast. She could tell he was already anticipating the evening even
though it was still a couple weeks away, and she couldn't help smiling as she
watched him. So maybe Cupid wasn't so crazy after all and this would actually
work. It would be nice if Auto had somebody, at least that way she wouldn't
have to feel so guilty about moving on.
~
Cupid managed to hold himself together until he got outside, but as soon as
Psyche's front door closed behind him he felt his hands start to shake. He
didn't want to let on to his friends how nervous he was about talking to his
mother, but Auto's comment had made things a hundred times worse. Until that
point he'd managed to forget exactly why his mother hated the loft so much, but
now that he'd been forced to remember he wasn't sure if he could go through
with this.
He wanted to move in with Strife; he wanted that more than anything, and he
really didn't want to move in with his father and Joxer. He wasn't sure he
could walk into his mother's house and announce that he was leaving her,
though, not when he was planning to move into the one place she couldn't even
stand to think about. She tried to act like it didn't bother her anymore, but
he saw the way she reacted every time Ares called for him or showed up at the
house. Now that Cupid could get himself to the city it was better; they didn't
have to deal with each other much anymore, but he had a feeling that seeing
Ares would always bother her a little.
By the time he found himself on his own doorstep he was so nervous that he
thought about turning around again, but before he got his feet to work with him
the door swung open and he found himself face to face with his mother. "Cupid,
what are you doing standing around out there?"
"Nothing, I was just…"
"I thought you were somebody else," Dite interrupted, standing on her tiptoes
to look over his shoulder. "Come on in, I need to talk to you."
She herded him inside and closed the door again, forcing him to crane his neck
to try to get a look at her as she shoved him less than gently in the direction
of the kitchen. "Mom? What's going on? Did somebody die or something?"
"What? No, of course not. We're having a dinner guest, that's all. I thought
you'd be home earlier. Where were you, anyway?"
"I went over to Psyche's after school to talk about the party," Cupid answered,
letting his mother push him into a chair at the kitchen table. He sniffed the
air, the unmistakable aroma of his mother's roast wafting through the air. "Is
Grandma coming over?"
"Grandma? What makes you think that?" Dite asked, pausing long enough to look
up from the salad she was tossing.
"The only time you make roast is when Grandma comes to dinner," Cupid answered,
frowning at his mother's slightly flushed expression. "Mom, are you feeling
okay? You look a little sick."
Instantly Psyche dropped the salad tongs, all the color draining from her
cheeks as her hands flew to her face. "Oh no. Do I look terrible?"
"No, Mom, it's not…" he began, but before he could get the rest of his sentence
out she was already out of the kitchen and on her way upstairs to her makeup
mirror. "…that bad," he finished, sighing in the sudden silence. This was not
the way this conversation was supposed to go, and now they were having company
and he'd never get a chance to tell her he was planning to move out.
The doorbell rang and he pushed his chair back, shaking his head and pushing
the kitchen door open. "Mom?" he called from the bottom of the stairs, waiting
a beat before he decided she was probably too engrossed in making herself look
perfect to even hear the doorbell. He had no idea who it could be; the last
time he'd seen his mother act like this was the time his Aunt Artemis brought
her much younger boyfriend Adonis around. Cupid still hadn't told her that
Adonis made a pass at him while everyone else was upstairs looking at some
family junk; he was pretty sure his mother would freak if she heard that,
especially since he had a feeling she'd been into the guy herself.
Finally he gave up waiting for her and crossed to the front door, pulling the
door open and coming face to face with his Shop teacher. Cupid frowned and
glanced over his shoulder, but his mother was still missing in action. "Hello,
Cupid," the older man said, grinning nervously and thrusting a bottle of
something Cupid probably wasn't old enough to drink into his hands, "is
your…uh…is your mother home?"
Cupid nodded mutely, his eyes still wide as he took a step backwards and let
the high school Shop teacher into his house. And now he was really confused,
because he'd passed Shop when he was a sophomore, and as far as he knew his
mother had never met his teacher. "Uh, Mr…"
"Please, Cupid, when we're not in school you can call me Heph."
For a long moment Cupid stared blankly at the other man, but as soon as he
snapped out of it he turned on his heel and ran up the stairs two at a time.
"Mom!"
"Geez, Cupe, you don't have to yell," Dite said, appearing at the end of the
hall just as Cupid reached the top of the stairs. "I guess you've met our
dinner guest."
"Mom, what's the Shop teacher doing in our house?" Cupid demanded, finally
remembering the bottle still gripped in his hand. "And why'd he give me a
bottle of wine?"
Dite smiled and took the bottle out of his hand, resting her other hand on his
forearm. "I imagine the wine was meant to go with dinner. I wanted to wait
until after graduation to introduce you two, but Heph didn't see any reason to
wait. He's not your teacher anymore, so there's no conflict of interest."
"Have you been dating my Shop teacher since…God, since I was a sophomore?"
"No," she answered, frowning at Cupid's horrified expression. "Honestly, Cupid,
you're not a little boy anymore. You know I've been dating."
"Yeah, but…the Shop teacher?"
Dite rolled her eyes and let go of his arm, pushing him gently out of her way.
"He's not just a teacher, you know. They all have lives when they leave the
school, believe it or not. Now go get washed up, dinner's almost ready. And I
expect you to be polite."
For a long time after she left him alone in the hallway he just stood there,
staring at the space in front of him where his mother had been standing a few
moments ago. He knew she dated, sure, but she'd always told him who she spent
her time with was none of his business. He'd never met any of her boyfriends,
but he'd never suspected that it might be because he already knew the boyfriend
in question. His mind was swimming suddenly with a hundred different questions;
like how serious they were, how long they'd been dating and what exactly this
dinner meant.
Then there was the little matter of him moving out to deal with, but suddenly
it didn't seem nearly as daunting to bring up. His mother couldn't kill him in
front of her boyfriend, and if things between her and Mr…Heph – and that was
going to take forever to get used to – were serious…
His lips curved into a wide grin, and he bounced on his heels as he made his
way to the bathroom to wash up for dinner. This unexpected dinner party could
work to his advantage, especially if his mother was so distracted by her
boyfriend that she didn't really pay much attention to what Cupid said to her.
He could probably get her to agree to anything tonight if he was the type of
person to take advantage of the situation. All he really wanted was for her to
be okay with him moving to New York, and if he could get her to agree to that
while she was preoccupied with Mr…Heph, then it would be worth sitting through
a boring dinner with his mom's boyfriend.

                         Part Thirty-Two – Unexpected
By the time Cupid finished washing up and made it back downstairs his mother
was in full flirt mode. He hadn’t seen her like that for a long time, and he
wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that she was flirting with somebody he
knew. Somebody who’d given him a C+ on the spice rack she still had sitting on
the kitchen counter and blown his GPA for the first half of his sophomore year.
The whole thing was just a little weird, starting with the fact that his mom
actually invited her boyfriend to the house, and ending with the fact that it
was someone Cupid already knew.
It hadn’t really bothered him when his father introduced him to Joxer for the
first time. This was his mom, though, and he was used to having her more or
less to himself. He knew she had a life, but she’d kept it away from him for so
long that he couldn’t help thinking that having her boyfriend over to meet him
meant…something. He hadn't figured out what exactly it meant yet, but in a way
it made him feel a little better to know that she wouldn't be completely alone
once he moved to the city.
When he got to the dining room Heph was already sitting down, and Cupid slid
into the chair across from him and crossed his arms over his chest. "So how
long have you been dating my mom?"
Heph had that sickly nervous grin going, like he was either going to start
laughing his head off or throw up on his shoes any second. Cupid wasn't sure
what his mother had told the guy to make Heph so nervous about having dinner
with him, but he had to admit it was kind of funny to watch. He'd always been
nice enough when Cupid was in his class, but Cupid had never been all that good
at carpentry so he hadn't paid much attention in Shop. In fact he'd spent most
of his time in Heph's class wondering how he'd gotten the scar that marked one
side of his face and most of his left arm. There were a lot of different
stories around school about it, but most of them he was pretty sure weren't
true. Now that he knew his mom was dating the guy he could finally found out
the real story, anyway.
"We've…uh…I guess we've been seeing each other for about a year now," Heph
finally answered, the nervous grin giving way to a thoughtful expression for a
second before it came right back again. Cupid decided that he looked better
when he didn't smile; the jacket and tie pretty much ruined the affect, but
when he wasn't grinning like an idiot the scar kind of made him look dangerous.
"So are you guys gonna get married or what?"
That did the trick; Heph definitely wasn't smiling anymore, but he didn't
really look all that dangerous while he was staring at Cupid like a deer caught
in somebody's headlights. He almost felt sorry for the guy until he remembered
that they'd more or less ambushed him with this dinner party, so he shrugged
off the guilt and held the other man's gaze as he waited for an answer.
"We've talked about it," Heph finally said, and Cupid had to give the guy
points for honesty. Most people would have stammered through a few half-
sentences before they finally came up with an excuse about having something
caught in their throat and high-tailed it for the kitchen. "Does that bother
you?"
He'd almost forgotten how good teachers could be at turning the tables in the
middle of an interrogation. They were a lot like therapists in that respect,
but Cupid had lived with a therapist long enough to keep himself from getting
caught off guard. Instead of answering he just shrugged noncommittally and
leaned back in his chair, raising a single eyebrow at the older man. "She told
you I'm gay, right?"
Heph's mouth opened, but before he managed to squeak out an answer the kitchen
door swung open, and both of them looked up in time to watch Dite carry the
roast into the dining room. "Oh, Cupid, good," she said, oblivious to the
tension hanging in the air between the two men, "I was just getting ready to
send out a search party. I think we're ready to eat."
He grinned indulgently, completely ignoring the fact that both of them looked
nervous now. "Looks great, Mom."
"Here's hoping," Dite muttered under her breath. Suddenly Cupid wondered if
this was the first time she'd ever cooked for the guy; if they'd been dating
for a year she must have showed off her cooking skills before now, either at
his place or while Cupid was in New York visiting his father. She seemed kind
of jumpy, though, and he couldn't imagine it was just because he was meeting
her boyfriend for the first time.
He'd never been one of those kids that was particularly protective of his
mother; she wouldn't stand for it, for one thing, and anyway he was usually too
busy worrying about the next time his father was going to screw up his life.
But suddenly he felt like kicking Heph under the table until he said something
nice about his mom's cooking.
"It looks fantastic, Dite," Heph said almost as soon as he finished the
thought, and Cupid blinked and reached for his glass of water to hide his
smile. "You've really outdone yourself tonight."
And okay, the guy couldn't be all bad if he could make Cupid's mom smile like
that. She looked younger with her face all lit up, kind of like she'd looked
when he was a kid and they were all still pretending that they were a normal
family. It made him wonder how long she'd been in love with his Shop teacher,
and more importantly, if Heph was the kind of guy that deserved a woman like
his mom.
"So how'd you two meet?" Cupid asked, glancing up from the food his mother had
piled onto his plate.
"Your grandfather introduced us, actually," Dite answered, glancing at Heph
long enough to give him a shy smile that would have made Cupid roll his eyes
under any other circumstances. "Heph does antique restoration when he's not
teaching, and he fixed that old Hoosier cabinet that your Grandma loves so
much. Dad thought we'd hit it off, so he gave Heph my number."
"It took him another three weeks to convince me to call," Heph added, grinning
sheepishly when Dite reached over and squeezed his hand. "He showed me a
picture of your mom and I knew there was no way someone as beautiful as her
would ever go out with me. I'm still trying to figure out how I got so lucky."
Dite shook her head, smiling a little sadly before she let go of Heph's hand.
"Please, I'm the lucky one. I owe Dad for setting us up, and he hasn't let me
forget it yet."
Okay, that was a little too cute for Cupid, but if his mom was happy he wasn't
going to ruin it for her by acting like a kid and getting all grossed out. Not
tonight, anyway; there would be plenty of time to make fun of both of them once
he'd spent a little time with Heph. "So what's the occasion?" Cupid asked,
drawing their attention back to the fact that he was still in the room. "I mean
why the introductions finally after a year of keeping it a secret?"
Dite arched her eyebrows at Heph, but he just shrugged helplessly. "He asked me
how long we've been seeing each other," he admitted, and Cupid had to struggle
not to laugh at the way Heph shrank a little under Dite's stare.
"We weren't trying to keep it a secret, Cupid," she said when she turned back
to him. "Not really. But while you were still in school I thought it would be
easier for you this way. Just to keep things as uncomplicated as possible."
"What your mom means is that she didn't want you to have to see me around
school all the time if it turned out you hated the idea of us going out," Heph
added, matching Cupid's smirk with one of his own. Dite sighed dramatically at
the two of them, but she didn't argue because all three of them knew that it
was true.
"And now…?" Cupid prompted, turning his attention back to his mother. He really
wanted to get back to the subject of potential wedding bells, if only to
confuse the conversation enough to bring up the fact that he was planning to
move out. He didn't want to just blurt it out again, though; his mother would
see right through that tactic.
"And now we think you're ready to deal with the fact that Heph and I are
getting serious."
"Getting?"
"Yes, and that's all you need to know for now," she answered, giving him a look
that told him he wasn't getting anything else out of her.
He stifled a sigh and frowned down at his dinner for a moment. Okay, so
distracting her with wedding plans wasn't going to work, but he could try a
different tactic that might work just as well. "I'm happy for you guys,
really," he said, looking up and smiling innocently at both of them. "I mean I
was a little worried about leaving you all by yourself, but now that I know
you've got Heph I don't need to worry about it."
"Leaving? What are you talking about?" Dite asked, the hand that was holding
her wine glass freezing in mid-air.
"Come on, Mom, you don't expect me to commute all the way to the city for
college, do you?" he asked in a tone that implied that even suggesting it would
be ridiculous. "It'll be a lot easier if I just move up there. Dad already said
I could use the loft, that way he'll be around to make sure I don't do anything
stupid and you won't have to worry about me taking the train home every night."
For a long moment Dite just stared at him without saying anything, and he began
to squirm uncomfortably under her gaze when she finally shook her head. "No.
Absolutely not. I won't have you living alone in the city, Cupid. You're too
young."
"Mom, I just told you…"
"Living above the karate studio isn't the same as staying with him. If you were
planning to move into Ares' and Joxer's place it would be one thing, but all by
yourself in that loft? No."
"But that's the thing. I won't be alone. Strife's moving in with me."
Later he'd probably realize that that wasn't the best way to break the news to
her, but at the moment he was too busy enjoying the spectacle of seeing his
mother speechless for the first time. For as long as he could remember she'd
always had something to say about every situation, regardless of whether or not
it was any of her business. It was such a novelty to see his mother staring at
him with her mouth open that he forgot all about the man sitting across from
him until Heph cleared his throat.
"Strife?" he repeated, his expression telling Cupid that he regretted drawing
attention to his presence as soon as he'd said it.
"My boyfriend," Cupid answered before turning his attention back to his mother.
"Mom, you didn't really think I was going to stay in Neptune forever, did you?"
"Of course not," she said, finally snapping out of her shock long enough to
answer him. "I knew you'd want to move to the city eventually, but…moving in
with Strife? Honey, have you really thought this through? You haven't been
seeing him for that long, and this is a big step."
He managed somehow not to roll his eyes at the question that everyone seemed to
be asking. If they knew how he felt about Strife they'd understand, but there
was no way he could make them see what he was feeling. He knew things would
work out exactly the way he envisioned them, and everyone else would see soon
enough that he'd been right. "I've thought about it. We both have. This is what
we want."
"And your father's okay with this?"
"Yeah, he's helping us fix up the loft." Cupid frowned at his mother's
expression, unable for once to tell whether or not she was going to put her
foot down. Not that she really had much to say about it once he turned
eighteen, but he didn't want to alienate her if he didn’t have to. "Come on,
Mom, this way is best for everybody. You can even help with the decorating if
you want."
"I have to talk it over with Joxer," she said, shaking her head when she saw
his hopeful expression. "Don't get too excited, I said I'd talk to him. I
haven't made a decision yet."
"Joxer?" Heph interjected. "I'm sorry, I know it's not really any of my
business, but wouldn't you want to talk it over with Ares?"
"Please, Ares is completely useless when it comes to things like this. He gives
Cupid whatever he wants, always has. Joxer's much more sensible," Dite
answered. "Besides, he's Strife's uncle. If anybody's going to know whether or
not this is a bad idea, it's him."
"Mom talks everything over with Joxer," Cupid added, grinning at Heph's
surprised expression. "What, she didn't mention that? I bet she's already told
him all about you."
He laughed at the blush that colored the older man's cheeks, shaking his head
and turning his attention back to his dinner. There was nothing to worry about
now; when Dite said she was going to talk to Joxer that meant that she just
wanted to hear him tell her it was okay before she gave in to whatever Cupid
wanted. She hated saying no to him just as much as Ares did, she just didn't
want to admit it. So they both used Joxer as an excuse to give in and Cupid
played along. It wasn't hard, and as long as everybody got what they wanted he
was happy to keep his mouth shut and pretend he didn't know what was going on.
~
"I can't believe they're just giving you guys a place, just like that."
"I know." Strife grinned at the hint of jealousy in Xena's voice; he knew she'd
give anything to move out of her mother's place, but it cost a fortune to find
a decent place in New York, and she didn't want to move in with a bunch of
people she didn't know. "Ya know, fer a guy who's always sayin' how strict his
folks are, they give him pretty much whatevah he wants."
"Face it, Strife, your boyfriend's totally spoiled," Xena said, smiling
innocently when he scowled at her. "You sure you know what you're getting
into?"
The truth was he had no idea what he was doing, but he wasn't worried enough
about it to back out now. He'd never lived with someone he was sleeping with
before, but he didn't see what there was to worry about. It just meant they got
to see each other a lot more often, and he was already kind of attached to the
idea of waking up next to Cupid every morning. Besides, there was no way he
could change his mind without making Cupid think Strife didn't want to be with
him, and it didn't hurt that the loft was a lot nicer than the dump he was
sharing with Iolaus and Hercules.
"Yeah, course I do," he answered. "Hey, if it means seein' less a Herc, I'm
there."
"There's a great reason to move in with somebody," Xena muttered, but when he
glanced at her again he saw the corners of her mouth twitching.
"Jealous?"
She set her bass back in its case and looked up at him, finally giving in to
the grin that was threatening to form. "Nah. Cupid's not my type. Now Psyche,
on the other hand…"
"I knew ya had a thing fer her," Strife said triumphantly, leaning forward on
his chair and resting his arms across the backrest. "She likes ya too."
"She does not."
"Sure she does. I saw her tryin' ta talk to ya at the club the other night. Ya
coulda acted a little more interested, ya know."
Xena shrugged and looked down at her bass again, pretending to adjust the
strings so she wouldn't have to meet her cousin's gaze. "What's the point?
She's still going out with that guy, right? I'm not stupid, Strife, I saw the
way they were looking at Iolaus."
Strife rolled his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh, pushing himself out of his
chair and crossing the stage to sit on the floor next to her. "Ya don't know
everythin', Xena. Look, Cupe's got this idea in his head that Iolaus just needs
a little shove outta the closet, right? Meanwhile Psyche's been tryin' ta come
up with a way ta break up with Auto, so Cupe talked her inta killin' two birds
with one stone. She pretends she's in on the whole seducin' Iolaus thing, but
once she gets him an' Auto alone together they forget all about her."
"How does Auto outing Iolaus help Psyche break up with him?"
"Cupe says Auto's just got a little problem with the whole idea a bein' alone
with a guy. He figures once he does it once, he'll quit tryin' ta hide behind
his girlfriend."
Xena frowned and sat back on the wooden floor, leaning back on her hands as she
contemplated Cupid's plan. "That's almost as dumb as Herc's 'no dating' rule."
"Tell me about it." Strife grinned when she shook her head at him. "Look, it
ain't my idea, I'm just goin' along with it. I mean Cupe's got a point about
Iolaus, right? We've been sayin' that forever. And even if he's wrong about
this thing with Auto, Psyche still likes ya. She's breakin' up with him one way
or the other."
"Yeah, but just because she's breaking up with him doesn't mean she's
interested in me."
Strife rolled his eyes again and fell back onto the stage, stretching his arms
out in a 'why me?' gesture. "Did ya not just hear what I said? She likes ya.
She told Cupe in those exact words."
"Oh. Well why didn't you just say so?"
Strife frowned and turned his head to look at her, opening his mouth to tell
her in no uncertain terms exactly who had the communication problem. Before he
got started the stage door slammed, though, and he let out a sigh and pushed
himself back into a sitting position. "'Bout time," he snapped, glancing over
his shoulder and scowling when he realized Iolaus was alone. "Where the fuck is
Herc? We're runnin' outta rehearsal time."
"He's not coming," Iolaus answered. He sat down heavily in the chair Strife had
vacated, staring at his friends without really seeing them. "I just talked to
him."
"He's not still pissed that I hit him, is he?" Xena asked. "Jesus, he had it
coming."
"No, it's not that," Iolaus answered. "Look, guys, I don't know how to tell you
this. Herc's not coming back."
"Whadda ya mean? One fight and he's just takin' a walk? He's the one that
wanted ta move out here in the first place," Strife said, turning so he could
see Iolaus. As soon as he registered his friend's shell-shocked expression he
forgot all about being mad at Hercules, a frown marring his features as he
pushed himself onto his knees and leaned forward to touch Iolaus' arm. "Hey,
are ya alright? Ya look like yer best friend just…shit, Iolaus, is Herc okay?"
"Yeah…I mean I guess." He paused long enough to cast a guilty look at Xena,
taking a deep breath and looking down at Strife again before he continued.
"He's quitting the band. He's gotta get a real job, one that actually pays
something."
"Herc, get a job? What the fuck for?" Xena asked, a nervous grin tugging at the
corners of her mouth as she tried to imagine Hercules working.
Iolaus glanced at her again, the shock in his features fading into an
apologetic expression. "Gabbie's pregnant."

                        Part Thirty-Three – Accomplice
A week after Iolaus broke the news to them about Herc and Gabbie, Strife was
still trying to make sense of everything. Things had changed so fast for all of
them, and now Herc was leaving the band and having a kid. It still hadn't
really sunk in for him, but he wasn't the one he was worried about. What he was
really worried about was the fact that Xena had barely even reacted. She wasn't
really the emotional type, granted, but so far she hadn't said anything at all
about Gabbie and Herc, and he knew better than to think it didn't bother her.
Then there was Iolaus – he'd been acting kind of weird ever since he gave them
the news, and a week later he still hadn't snapped out of it. It was almost
like he was blaming himself for the mess Herc was in, but he had to know it
wasn't his fault. Strife had tried talking to him about it a couple times, but
every time Iolaus just said he was okay and went back to brooding in silence.
Going to some graduation party in Jersey was probably the last thing any of
them needed to do, but Strife was hoping it would take all their minds off
Herc's problems for awhile. Besides, he didn't want to disappoint Cupid. He
knew his boyfriend would pretend to understand if Strife told him the timing
was bad, but he'd still be hurt and Strife couldn't bring himself to be the one
to hurt Cupid. Xena and Iolaus hadn't said anything about bailing on the party,
anyway, and if they'd really wanted out they would have told him. That was what
he'd told himself during the whole drive down from the city, anyway, only now
that they were finally at the address Cupid had given him Strife found himself
wishing that he had backed out.
Psyche's house was huge; he'd never seen a house like this one, not up close
and personal anyway. He checked the address again, half hoping he’d told Iolaus
to turn onto the wrong street or something. They were in the right place,
though, and when he saw a group of teenagers tumble out of a car and head up to
the house he was sure this was the right address.
“Whoa. Somebody’s loaded,” Iolaus said from the driver’s seat, his gaze fixed
on the massive brick house.
Strife nodded and glanced over his shoulder at Xena, but she was staring at the
house just as raptly as Iolaus. He swallowed a sigh and told himself again that
it was just a party and there was nothing to worry about. Just because Psyche
lived in a mansion didn’t mean they’d be totally out of place; Cupid and Psyche
hung out here all the time, after all, and Cupid had promised her parents
wouldn’t even be in town.
He pulled the van door open and stepped out into the warm evening air,
swallowing a fresh rush of nerves as they made their way up the sidewalk to the
front door. It felt weird to be going to Cupid instead of him coming into the
city, and it felt even weirder to have another weekend where they weren’t
playing a single show. He had a feeling he was going to have to get used to
that part, though, at least until they found a new guitarist. If they even
decided to look for one, because for the first time Strife wasn’t sure if he
really wanted to go through the hassle of looking for somebody to replace
Hercules.
Before he had a chance to knock the front door swung open and he forgot all
about the band. He didn’t resist as Cupid closed a fist around the front of his
shirt and pulled him forward, barely managing to move out of the doorway before
he found himself pressed up against a solid chest. And obviously he’d wasted a
lot of time wondering if he was supposed to pretend they were just friends in
front of Cupid’s classmates, at least if the way the younger boy was kissing
him was anything to go by.
“Hey,” he said when Cupid finally let him up for air, registering vaguely that
Xena and Iolaus had closed the door and made their way into the party at some
point in the last few minutes.
“Hey,” Cupid answered, his slightly dazed grin making Strife’s knees wobble. “I
was starting to think you guys decided not to come.”
Strife shook his head, glancing over Cupid’s shoulder in a vain attempt to pick
Iolaus and Xena out of the crowd. “Nah. Had ta look twice at the address,
though.”
“Yeah, Psyche’s parents are loaded. She’s gonna have to get used to living like
a normal person soon, though. They won’t pay for her to have a fancy place once
she moves to the city.”
"Speakin' a which, what'd yer mom say?" Strife asked, doing his best to keep
his nervousness out of his expression. Cupid had been telling him all week that
there was nothing to worry about, but it was hard not to worry when everything
else in his life was upside down. If Cupid's mother put her foot down then his
father might change his mind about the loft, and then not only would Strife not
be waking up next to Cupid every morning, but he'd have to find someplace to
live. He and Iolaus probably couldn't afford their place on their own, and
there was no way he'd ever talk Xena into moving in with them.
Not that he even wanted to try; what he really wanted was for Cupid to hurry up
and graduate from high school so they could start working on getting their new
place ready to move in. If it was up to Strife they'd already be living
together, but technically Cupid was still a high school student for another
week and he had a feeling even the best pout his boyfriend could work up
wouldn't convince his mom to let him commute his last week from the city.
"She hasn't said anything yet," Cupid answered, reaching up automatically to
smooth away Strife's frown. "I told you not to worry about it. She's gonna say
yes, she's just making me wait because she can. Anyway, it doesn't matter what
she says. It's not like she can stop me."
He didn't answer that because he had a feeling whatever he said would come out
all wrong. It was nice to hear Cupid say that he'd stand up to his mother for
the chance to move in with Strife, but he had a feeling it wasn't just a matter
of Cupid defying his mother's wishes. It was his dad's place, after all, and if
his mom talked Ares out of letting them have the loft there was no way they'd
find a decent place they could afford. There was a lot riding on whatever his
mother decided, whether Cupid wanted to admit it or not.
The party wasn't really the place to worry about it, though, especially since
they couldn't do anything about it until Cupid's mother made a decision. So he
opted not to say anything at all, leaning forward instead to press his lips
against Cupid's again. And even if he'd remembered that they were still
standing right next to the front door he wouldn't have cared, not with Cupid
solid and warm against him and pressing him into the wall. He knew they weren't
going to last long before they were looking for someplace more private, but for
now it was enough that they didn't have to struggle to keep their hands off
each other in front of other people.
His fingers stroked through Cupid's hair as the other boy's mouth left his to
trail down his neck, planting soft kisses along the skin just below Strife's
ear before he pulled away and looked up again. "I really missed you," Cupid
said, his smile lighting up his eyes as he met Strife's gaze.
"Me too." It was all Strife could manage around the lump in his throat, but he
knew it was enough when Cupid grinned and leaned forward again. His lips just
brushed Strife's again before he pulled back and looked over his shoulder,
frowning when he didn't find what he was looking for.
"Where'd Iolaus and Xena go?"
"Beats me," Strife answered, following the other boy's gaze long enough to
register that his friends had disappeared. "Probably got sick a watching us
already. Anyway it's not like they're here ta hang out with me an' you."
"Do you think Iolaus is really gonna go through with it?"
Strife shrugged, swallowing his own fears about what would happen if Iolaus did
play into Cupid and Psyche's hands. They hadn't talked about it, but Strife had
a feeling from watching his friend with Auto and Psyche that he was interested.
Iolaus had been acting weird all week, and Strife wasn't sure how much of it
had to do with Hercules and how much of it was anticipation of the party.
Still, he hadn't tried to back out of coming, so that meant at least part of
him wanted to go for it. Strife wanted to believe it was a step in the right
direction for Iolaus, but he couldn't help worrying that this wasn't the best
way for him to figure out what he wanted.
"I dunno, Cupe. I haven't talked ta him much this week. He's been pretty
wrapped up with Herc's problems."
Cupid frowned at the mention of Hercules, letting out a small sigh and pulling
Strife a little closer. "I still don't get what he thinks he can do to help
Herc. I mean what can anybody really do?"
"Listen ta the big guy bitch about his rotten luck, I guess. Give him somethin'
ta aim for when he starts throwin' shit."
"Nice friend," Cupid said, but he was grinning again. "Well if anybody can help
Iolaus take his mind off other people's problems, it's Auto."
Strife did his best to smile at that and reached up, catching the hand that was
tracing his jaw line. "Hey, Cupe?"
"Yeah?"
"Can ya do me a favor and not sound so much like yer speakin' from experience?"
A soft laugh escaped Cupid's throat as he nodded, leaning forward to plant one
last kiss on Strife's lips before he straightened up and pulled the other boy
away from the wall. "Come on, I want to show you something. Then you can decide
for yourself if I'm right."
Strife frowned, but he let the other boy pull him forward into the house. He
had no idea where they were going or what Cupid wanted to show him, but he had
a feeling he was going to find out whether he liked it or not.
~
Psyche spotted Iolaus first, but it wasn't until she spotted Xena right behind
him that her heart skipped a beat. Her stomach fluttered at the sight of
Strife's friends and she wondered if that was a sign that she shouldn't go
through with this. She didn't have much choice now, though, because she'd
already talked Auto into one of the guestrooms and if she didn't show up with
Iolaus in tow he'd get suspicious and come looking for her. The last thing she
wanted was for Xena to figure out what she was up to; she had no idea what the
other girl would think, but she didn't really want to find out.
The fact that she wasn't planning to sleep with Iolaus didn't really matter,
because Xena would think she was planning on it, and then the damage would
already be done. For the first time she found herself regretting the way she'd
lived her life for the past few years, but there was no way for her to erase
her past. She wasn't even sure what it was about Xena that made her feel weird
about the games she and Auto had always played, she just knew she didn't really
want Xena to hear about any of it. Not if she could help it, anyway, although
it was possible that she already knew.
"Hi," she said when she finally reached them, smiling at Xena for a second
longer than strictly necessary before she turned her attention to Iolaus.
"Hey," Iolaus answered, and when he glanced over her shoulder she found herself
hoping that he was looking for Auto. If that was the case this might be even
easier than she'd hoped, provided Auto didn't do anything to screw it up. That
was a definite possibility, but she was doing her best not to dwell on it too
much.
"Where's Strife?" she asked, glancing around for any sign of Cupid or his
boyfriend.
"He got waylaid by Cupid the second we walked in," Xena answered. "Last we saw
they were making out by the front door."
"Oh." She'd been hoping that Cupid and Strife could keep their hormones in
check long enough to distract Xena until she got Iolaus and Auto taken care of;
Cupid knew she was interested in Xena, and this whole plan was his idea. The
least he could do was help her, but there was no sign of him anywhere in the
crowd around her. "You guys want a drink or anything?"
"Sounds good," Xena answered, turning in the direction Psyche indicated and
making her way through the crowd. Iolaus turned to follow her, but before he
could Psyche reached out and grabbed his wrist.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" she asked, turning on her most flirtatious
smile when he turned back toward her. As soon as he registered her expression
he swallowed hard, and she had to stifle a laugh at the mixture of shock and
fear in his features. Auto was right, he did have that innocent thing going for
him. Only she had a feeling it wasn't necessarily an act, at least not where
this particular experience was concerned. He'd probably never had a couple come
onto him before, and the novelty was just enough to make him play right into
her hands.
"I probably shouldn't ditch Xena," he said, but he didn't look like even he
believed that.
"She'll be fine," Psyche answered dismissively, forcing herself not to glance
in the direction the other girl had disappeared. "It's so loud in here. Let's
go find someplace more quiet."
She didn't bother waiting for an answer; instead she took his hand and pulled
him through the crowd, leading him out of the living room and up a set of
stairs. She glanced over her shoulder when they reached the second floor,
grinning at his dazed expression as she stopped in front of a closed door and
pushed it open. He followed her into the room and she let go of his hand long
enough to close the door behind them, turning around again just in time to
watch Auto push himself up onto his elbows to look at them. He was stretched
out on the bed in just a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, and Psyche had to admit
that he looked good. He looked more his age than he ever did when they went
out, and without all the makeup and gel in his hair he looked almost normal.
"You remember Auto, right?" she asked Iolaus, smirking when he nodded without
looking back at her. It was pretty obvious from his rapt expression that he
thought Auto looked pretty good too, and judging by the way Auto was staring
back at him she might have been able to just let herself right back out of the
room without either of them ever noticing. She knew better than to try it,
though, so she took a few steps forward and reached out to touch Iolaus'
forearm. "We thought it'd be easier for us all to get to know each other better
somewhere private. If you want we can go back to the party. Just say the word."
Finally he tore his gaze away from the bed long enough to frown at her, his
forehead furrowed as though he was having trouble understanding what she'd just
said. "No…I mean I…"
That was as far as he got, and for a second she felt a little sorry for him.
She could tell he wasn't really sure exactly what he'd gotten himself into, and
even though part of him wanted to be there the rest of him obviously wasn't so
sure. Still, he was old enough to take care of himself, so if he wanted to turn
around and walk right back out of the room he could. She did feel kind of bad
about leaving him alone with Auto; her boyfriend wasn't known for setting
people at ease, and from the way he was watching Iolaus she could tell he
wasn't that worried about it. At least he'd sat up and swung his legs over the
edge of the bed, that seemed to relax Iolaus enough to keep her from worrying
that he was going to have a heart attack in her parents' guestroom.
She stole a quick glance at Iolaus, hoping he wouldn't be able to see what she
was thinking from all the way across the room. "Maybe I should get us something
to drink," she said, backing toward the door as she spoke so neither of them
would have a chance to answer. "I'll be right back."
And okay, it probably wasn't the most graceful exit she could have made, but
once she was safely on the other side of the door she didn't care. All she
really cared about was the fact that neither of them had followed her, and with
any luck Auto would get tired of waiting and take care of the rest. She sighed
and pushed herself off the door only to stop short when she realized someone
was watching her.
"You sure it's safe to leave them alone in there?" Xena asked, gesturing in the
direction of the guestroom with her drink.
"Xena…I…"
"Relax," Xena interrupted, an amused grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Strife told me about Cupid's idea. I'm guessing they're gonna kill both of you
when they figure it out, but in a way it's kind of sweet. Twisted, but sweet."
"I know," Psyche whispered, glancing over her shoulder as though she expected
one or both boys to appear suddenly. "But have you ever tried saying no to
Cupid?"
"No, but considering the way Strife's been acting since they met, I'm guessing
it's not that easy." Xena's grin got a little brighter as she fell into step
next to Psyche, but when they reached the top of the stairs she stopped and
glanced back toward the guestroom. "So that's it? We're not even gonna listen
to see if they go through with it?"
For a second Psyche considered pretending to be shocked at the fact that Xena
wanted to listen to their friends having sex, but she was too busy being
relieved that Xena wasn't disgusted with her for setting them up in the first
place. "I've got something way better," she answered. "Follow me."

                Part Thirty-Four – Sex, Lies and Security Tape
Auto wasn’t really sure where Psyche said she was going because he was too busy
wondering if Iolaus was going to turn and bolt out of the room. It was hard not
to laugh at the expression on the other boy’s face, but he knew if he did he’d
probably just piss Iolaus off, and that wasn’t the way he wanted to start
things between them. He could understand being nervous about the situation,
he’d been pretty nervous his first time. It hadn’t showed nearly as much as it
did on Iolaus, but he remembered what it felt like.
"Relax," Auto said, patting the mattress next to him in invitation. "Take a
load off."
He didn't think it was possible for the other boy's eyes to get any wider, but
as soon as he patted the mattress they did. A second later Iolaus' cheeks
blushed a shade of crimson Auto had never seen before, and he glanced over his
shoulder in the direction of the door.
"She'll be right back. She probably just went to get beers or something."
Iolaus nodded as though it was a perfectly reasonable explanation, turning back
to Auto and hesitating for another moment before he crossed the room and sat
down a few inches away from the other boy. "Do you guys…do you do this a lot?"
Iolaus asked, stealing a quick glance at Auto and blushing even harder.
"What?"
"You know…this," Iolaus said, gesturing vaguely between the two of them. "Call
in for reinforcements."
Auto laughed at the euphemism, shaking his head and leaning back on his hands.
"Not as much as we used to." He paused and tilted his head to one side,
watching the other boy's profile for a moment before he continued. "You ever
done this before?"
"Which part?" Iolaus laughed nervously, looking up at Auto again and flashing a
shaky grin.
"I mean have you ever done it with a guy," Auto answered, returning the other
boy's smile. He hadn't admitted it to Psyche, but he kind of liked the idea of
being somebody's first. He knew it didn't really mean anything, but it was kind
of nice to pretend that it did. Ever since Cupid met Strife Auto had found
himself wishing he could find something like that; he wasn't expecting to fall
for Iolaus or anything, but sex that meant something would be a change, at
least.
"No," Iolaus admitted, and Auto couldn't help reaching out to run a finger over
the tip of one bright red ear.
"How come?"
Iolaus shrugged and looked over at him, his expression a mixture of fear and
anticipation. "Guess I didn’t want to admit that I wanted to."
"So now you're admitting it?"
A shaky nod was his only answer, but it was enough to encourage Auto to push
things a little further. He leaned forward slowly, giving Iolaus plenty of time
to pull away if he wanted to. He felt the body next to his tense as he closed
the distance between them, but Iolaus didn't try to move away and finally
Auto's lips brushed against a warm mouth. He barely touched the soft, slightly
parted lips before he pulled back far enough to meet Iolaus' gaze, his hand
resting on the other boy's shoulder. "If you wanna wait for Psyche to come
back…"
"No," Iolaus said, swaying instinctively closer to the warmth emanating from
Auto's body. His gaze was fixed on the other boy's mouth, and Auto couldn't
stop the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He was caught between
amusement and relief at the whispered answer; the truth was that he wasn’t sure
he could wait, and he was afraid if he went to find out what was taking Psyche
so long that Iolaus would change his mind and take off.
He leaned forward again, stopping less than an inch away from the other boy's
mouth. "Good," he murmured right before he covered Iolaus' mouth with his
again, his free hand tangling in blond hair to tug Iolaus even closer. He'd
kissed other guys before, but Psyche was always there when it happened and it
had never felt this…intimate. This kiss was intense in a way he wasn't used to,
and he wasn't sure if it was because they were alone or if it was because
Iolaus was kissing him back with a desperation he could almost taste.
Part of him wanted to push the other boy down and get him out of his clothes
before he changed his mind about what they were doing, but the rest of Auto
really wanted to take his time. He wanted to savor each reaction, learn what
made Iolaus whimper or moan or wince against the almost painful pleasure of
each new sensation. He wanted to take his time learning the other boy's body,
to know what it felt like to have someone's undivided attention for once. He
forgot all about the fact that Psyche was supposed to be there with them; the
only thing on his mind at all, in fact, was making sure Iolaus enjoyed this as
much as possible.
Slowly he lowered them onto the mattress, never breaking the kiss as he
stretched out more or less on top of Iolaus and braced his hands on either side
of the other boy's face. He expected Iolaus to be a little hesitant, maybe even
self-conscious about the idea of being trapped underneath him. But there was
nothing shy about the hands moving over his back, gripping at his shoulders and
sides as though he was afraid Auto might disappear. He was holding onto Auto so
tightly that it took some effort to pull away enough to reach between them, but
finally Auto managed to shift enough to work open the top button of Iolaus’
shirt.
He latched onto the side of Iolaus’ neck while he worked his shirt open,
tasting the salty skin under his mouth as his fingers explored each bit of
newly exposed skin. It never occurred to him to wonder where Psyche was or if
she was actually coming back; it didn’t seem to matter as much as he’d always
figured it would, especially when he felt the other boy’s fingers flexing
against his skin underneath his tee shirt. He sat up long enough to pull his
shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor before he swung a leg over
Iolaus’ hips to straddle his waist.
“How do you wanna do this?” he asked, one hand trailing down the center of the
older boy’s chest until he reached the last few buttons of Iolaus’ shirt. He
felt the shiver roll through the body still pinned underneath him, and he
didn’t bother trying to hide his grin. He had no idea why he’d been so freaked
out by the idea of being alone with another guy; it was just another kind of
game, and knowing that Iolaus was nervous just added to the challenge. When he
didn’t get an answer right away he pushed Iolaus’ shirt open, running his hands
over the expanse of warm skin before he leaned forward and pressed their lips
together again.
He took his time kissing Iolaus, moaning against the other boy’s mouth at the
pressure quickly building at the pit of his stomach. As nervous as he was,
Iolaus kissed him back with a certainty that let Auto know how much the other
boy wanted this – him – and he couldn’t help thrusting against the body
underneath him. Iolaus arched against him automatically, shifting in the
process and allowing Auto to settle a little further between his legs. The
change of position brought them even closer together, and Auto pulled his mouth
away from Iolaus’ lips to let out a hot breath against the other boy’s ear.
“Do you wanna fuck me?” he whispered, grinning at the shudder that rolled
through the other boy. “Or maybe you want me to fuck you.”
That got him another shudder and a convulsive thrust of the hips pinned neatly
underneath his own, but the challenge was to make Iolaus say it and Auto wasn’t
giving up until he heard the words. He had a feeling getting the other boy to
say what he wanted out loud would be more of a challenge than getting him to
admit that he wanted Auto, but he’d never had a problem with patience. Besides,
they had all night, and he wasn’t planning to go anywhere until Iolaus decided
that he’d had enough.
“Whatever you want,” he said, planting one last kiss on the other boy’s neck
before he pushed himself up far enough to meet Iolaus’ gaze. He shifted a
little further and slid a hand between them to cup Iolaus’ groin, applying
enough pressure to surprise a gasp out of the other boy. “I can suck you first
if you want, take the edge off.”
“You’d really…” Iolaus’ voice cracked on the words, and he had to stop and
clear his throat before he tried again. “You’d really let me fuck you?”
“Yeah, sure,” Auto answered. His hand moved slowly up and down the other boy’s
length through his jeans, coaxing Iolaus’ hips into a shallow, rhythmic
thrusting motion. “Maybe you should let me suck you first, though. You’ll last
longer if you come first, and I want it to last as long as possible.”
Iolaus’ eyelids fluttered closed when Auto squeezed one last time before
shifting off the other boy to reach for the waistband of his jeans. “Yeah,
okay,” he answered when Auto hesitated with his hand on the other boy’s zipper.
“Okay what?”
For a second when Iolaus opened his eyes again he looked confused, but when he
finally focused on Auto he realized what the other boy was waiting for. “I want
you to…to suck me,” he said, the words coming out in a rush of breath followed
immediately by another blush.
“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Auto murmured, leaning forward to fuse their
mouths together again.
~
Psyche led Xena downstairs and toward the back of the house, away from the
crowd in the living room. When they reached a set of heavy double doors she
pushed one open, frowning when she realized the room wasn't empty. "What are
you guys doing?"
"Oh, good," Cupid said, ignoring the glare his friend was directing at him. "I
can't figure these stupid things out."
"That's because you're not supposed to be in here," Psyche shot back, but she
pushed him out of the way and glanced up at the row of screens on the opposite
side of the desk he'd been standing in front of. "If my dad saw us in here he'd
freak out."
"It's a good thing he's in France, then," Cupid reminded her, grinning when she
rolled her eyes at him. "You didn't put them in a room we can't see, did you?"
"Yeah, that's exactly why we're in here," Psyche answered, shaking her head at
the question and pushing a few buttons on the console in front of her.
"Wait a second," Xena said, her gaze fixed on the screen at the center of the
row of monitors. "Are you guys planning to spy on Auto and Iolaus?"
"Yeah, what'd you expect?" Cupid shrugged and glanced over at Strife, grinning
at the shocked look on the older boy's face. "Psyche's dad is nuts about
security, he's got the whole house wired. There's at least one camera in every
room."
"That's totally creepy."
"Tell me about it." Psyche glanced up at the screens every time she hit a
button, grinning triumphantly when she finally found what she was looking for.
"There they are."
Four sets of eyes were trained on the monitor in question as Auto pulled back
and looked down at Iolaus, saying something that made the other boy squirm.
"There's no sound?"
Psyche looked away from the monitor long enough to smirk at Xena. "So you're
shocked that we're spying, but you wanna hear them too?"
"Well if we're gonna watch anyway…" Xena trailed off with a sheepish grin,
lifting her drink to her lips and turning back to the monitor.
"Sorry. Dad's into watching, but the system doesn't pick up audio. It records,
but I took the tape out so nobody would get any ideas about blackmail or
anything." Psyche cast a pointed glance at Cupid, but he was too busy watching
the monitor to pay any attention to her.
"Whoa. Guess Iolaus decided ta go through with it," Strife said, drawing all
their attention back to the monitor just in time to watch Auto slide a hand
inside the other boy's jeans.
It was hard to make out exactly what was going on; the screen was small and the
camera was far enough away from the bed to encompass most of the room, but they
could see enough to tell that Auto's hand was moving inside Iolaus' jeans as he
whispered something against the other boy's ear. It wasn't hard to tell that
Iolaus was enjoying himself so far, at least if the rhythmic movements of his
hips were any indication. Psyche found herself wishing that they really could
hear what was going on, but it was quite a show even without any sound.
"They look good together," Xena murmured, but when Psyche glanced over at the
other girl her eyes were still glued to the monitor.
And it did feel kind of weird to be spying on them, but Psyche was glad to see
that Cupid's plan had worked. She'd been terrified since she left them alone
together about what would happen if Auto came looking for her. She had no idea
how to explain what was taking her so long, and she really didn't want to go
through with what Auto thought was going to happen. It wasn't that she didn't
like Iolaus; he was cute and as far as she could tell he was a nice guy, but
she wasn't interested in sleeping with him. Then there was the problem of
encouraging Auto's delusions about their relationship; that was a really bad
idea, and the sooner he realized they weren't a couple anymore the easier it
would be to deal with him.
She wished she could tell what Auto was whispering, but knowing him he was just
telling Iolaus in vivid detail exactly what he was planning to do to him. Auto
had always been a talker, so maybe it was just as well they couldn't hear. She
wasn't sure she could stand in a room with all of them and listen to Auto
describe everything he was going to teach Iolaus. "I hope Auto doesn't scar him
for life or anything," she said half to herself, but all three of them looked
back at her when she said it.
"Why, what do you think he's saying?" Cupid asked, frowning at the thought that
Auto would find a way to mess up the plan.
"Beats me," she lied, shrugging and doing her best to look convincing. "I just
meant I hope he doesn't go too fast or anything. He can be pretty enthusiastic
once he gets going."
Strife looked back at the monitor and cocked his head to the side, his mouth
dropping open as he watched Auto sit up and pull Iolaus' jeans over his hips.
"I dunno, looks like he's havin' a pretty good time. Anyway, it's not like
Iolaus is a virgin. He knows how ta tell somebody when they're goin' too fast."
By the time he finished talking Auto had gotten Iolaus out of everything but
his shirt, and he dropped Iolaus' jeans on the floor next to the bed and
crawled back over the other boy. They watched as he leaned forward and pulled
Iolaus toward him, planting what looked like a hard kiss on him as he pushed
his shirt off his shoulders. Once he got Iolaus out of his shirt Auto pushed
him back against the pillows again, his mouth leaving the other boy's to work
his way down the center of his chest.
None of them said anything while they watched Auto explore Iolaus' chest, using
his hands and mouth to cover every inch of exposed skin he could reach. They
could see that Iolaus was panting and straining against Auto's body, but the
other boy seemed determined to take his time. He lifted his head from IOlaus'
stomach and caught one of the hands that was tangled in his hair, sliding two
of the other boy's fingers into his mouth and sucking while he watched Iolaus
pant. When he finally released Iolaus' fingers he worked his way up the inside
of his forearm, stopping at the inside of his elbow and lingering there.
Psyche had been almost sure that Auto would be in a hurry, so she was more
surprised than anyone to see her ex-boyfriend taking his time. Xena was right;
they did look good together, and the fact that Auto was moving slowly made her
wonder if he'd been more interested in Iolaus than he let on. They hadn't
seemed to notice that she'd never come back, anyway, so at least part of the
plan was working.
"I'm never gonna be able to look at either of them again," Xena muttered as
they watched Auto retrace his path toward Iolaus' stomach.
"Serves him right fer not knockin' before he barges inta the bathroom," Strife
said without looking away from the monitor.
"What's the big deal about him walking in on you in the bathroom?"
Cupid looked away from the monitor long enough to grin at Xena. "He walked in
on us in the shower. But it's not like we were doing anything. If you ask me he
freaked out for no reason."
"Yeah, I guess that would be enough to freak him out," she said, smirking at
the glare Strife shot her. "Still, I don't think they should ever hear about
this. I mean knowing they slept together is one thing, but knowing we watched…"
"Xena's right," Psyche interjected. "Everything we see in this room should stay
in this…room." She trailed off distractedly as she watched Auto slide his mouth
as far down Iolaus' cock as he could. She probably couldn't count that as
moving slow, but Iolaus definitely wasn't complaining about it so far. In fact,
he looked like he was having a pretty good time. There were murmured agreements
from the rest of them, but she barely registered the sound of voices as she
made her way around the front of the desk and reached into the small fridge her
father had built into one of the bookcases.
She produced a bottle of chilled vodka and a bottle of cranberry juice, setting
them both on the desk and reaching for four of the highball glasses her father
kept on his shelf. "Anybody want a drink?" she asked, glancing over at the
monitor again as she unscrewed the cap on the vodka bottle. She poured four
drinks and passed them out, wishing she'd thought to bring some food into her
father's office before Iolaus got to the party. She didn't want to leave long
enough to go find something to eat, though, and considering the rest of them
were settling onto the couch to watch it was obvious none of them were willing
to make a snack run.
She sank into one of the chairs in front of her father's desk, folding her legs
underneath her and balancing her drink on the arm as she turned her attention
back to the monitor. This was definitely the strangest thing she'd ever done;
stranger than any of the seductions she and Auto had ever dreamed up, and even
stranger than some of the stunts they'd pulled to get tables or just to amuse
themselves at the clubs. It was the first live porn show she'd ever watched,
anyway, and the fact that it was two people she knew made it feel even weirder.
The fact that she was supposed to be in there with them made her feel a little
better, though, and as long as Auto and Iolaus didn't know then no one would
get hurt. It was just a little harmless fun, after all, and there was no reason
for them to find out about it.
She stole a quick glance over at Xena before she looked back at the monitor,
smiling to herself at the pretty blush coloring the other girl's cheeks.
Blushing was one of those things she'd never have expected to see on Xena, but
it definitely looked good on her. She hadn't had a chance yet to find out of
Xena was bothered by the fact that Psyche had set up Xena's friend and her ex-
boyfriend, but considering how raptly she was watching them she had a feeling
she didn't need to worry. Besides, there would be plenty of time for talking
later; they couldn't watch Auto and Iolaus all night, after all, and it didn't
look like Xena was getting a ride back to the city any time soon.

                        Part Thirty-Five – Silent Movie
Auto closed his eyes and listened to the sound of his own heart beating,
focusing on every spot on his body that was still in contact with Iolaus' skin.
He hadn't expected the other boy to dive right in with so much enthusiasm, but
he'd said he wanted to try, and Auto had never been the type to discourage
people from trying new things.
He grinned at that thought and peeled one eye open, turning his head just
enough to catch a glimpse of blond hair and flushed skin. "You sure you've
never done that before?"
"I think I'd remember," Iolaus answered, his voice infused with the nervous
laughter Auto had heard earlier. The truth was that it was pretty obvious
Iolaus had never given anybody a blow job before, but Auto wasn't about to tell
him that. He didn't want to discourage the guy, and anyway for a first time it
was definitely a great effort. A little uninventive, maybe, but he'd obviously
given it a lot of thought, and that counted for something.
Auto pushed himself up on one elbow, turning on his side to take in the other
boy's profile. "So?"
"What?" Iolaus asked, his forehead furrowing in confusion for a moment. A
second later he blinked and pushed himself into a sitting position, flushing
and turning away from the other boy. "Oh. Yeah. We should probably get going."
"No, that's not what I..." Auto paused and reached out, closing his hand around
Iolaus' arm and pulling him back down onto the mattress before he could stand
up. "That's not what I meant. We don't have to go anywhere, nobody's waiting
for us. Besides, we just got here." He grinned and eased the other boy down
onto his back again, letting his gaze wander over all that flushed, warm skin.
He'd never met anybody so pliant before, but Iolaus seemed willing to let him
take over completely. Maybe if Auto had been a girl it would have been a
different story, but as long as Iolaus was still a little nervous about the
whole 'gay' thing Auto wasn't above taking advantage of it.
That thought gave him pause, because he'd never really thought of himself as
gay before. He'd always told himself and anybody else that asked that he was
just into trying new things, and he didn't like to get hung up on labels. If he
was honest he'd have to admit that he preferred guys, though; in fact, aside
from Iolaus he'd chosen every guy they'd ever slept with. And where the hell
was Psyche, anyway? She had to have been gone for almost an hour by now, and he
couldn't even remember where she'd said she was going.
"What's the matter?"
Auto blinked and looked down at Iolaus, shaking his head when he realized he
must look like he'd just seen a ghost or something. "Do you get the feeling
we've been set up here?"
"Set up? How do you mean?"
"Psyche seemed pretty anxious to ditch us, didn't she? I mean this whole thing
was her idea, at least she made it sound like it was. But as soon as she gets
us in a room together she takes off. What I don't get is why she'd bother."
"I think I know," Iolaus answered, sitting up again and drawing his knees up in
front of him. "Jesus, this is embarrassing."
"What?"
"My so-called friends have been trying to out me forever." He sounded
miserable, and his shoulders slumped a little further forward as he rested his
forehead on his hands. The way his back flexed when he did that was
irresistible, and Auto found himself sitting up and sliding a hand down the
center of the other boy's spine. "Now I know why Strife wanted me to come to
the party so bad."
The misery in Iolaus' voice made Auto wish he'd never brought it up, especially
since he had a suspicion that it wasn't just Iolaus they'd been trying to out.
Besides, he was working on killing the mood, and the last thing he wanted to do
was ruin what they'd started. He liked Iolaus, maybe a little more than he'd
expected to, and he wasn't really looking forward to watching the other boy get
dressed so he could go kill Strife.
He turned his face into the older boy's shoulder, ghosting his lips across the
top of Iolaus' spine as his hand traced lazy patterns over the small of his
back. "Does it matter?" he whispered, half-afraid of the answer. "I mean you
can go if you want, but we just got started here. I don't care why you're here,
do you?"
"I guess not," Iolaus answered. The noncommittal answer wasn't exactly a
testament to Auto's irresistibility or anything, but when Iolaus turned to look
at him he was smiling again. Auto smiled back and moved a little closer,
sliding a hand around the back of the other boy's neck to pull him forward for
a kiss. There was barely an inch of space left between them when Iolaus tensed
suddenly and pulled back to frown at him. "Wait a second. If this was all
Psyche's idea, does that mean you didn't…?"
Auto could have kicked himself for saying that out loud, but at the time he
hadn't really been thinking about whether or not he was going to hurt Iolaus'
feelings. "I didn't say I didn't think it was a good idea," he answered
quickly, swallowing a sigh when Iolaus pulled out of his grip. "I just didn't
think you'd go for it. I mean I'm glad you did, but until that night at the
club I just figured you'd tell us both to fuck off."
"Why'd you think that?"
"Because you and that other guy always seemed kinda freaked out by Strife and
Cupid whenever I saw you."
"I wasn't freaked out," Iolaus said. "Herc's not crazy about Strife and Cupid,
but it doesn't make a difference anymore."
"So is he gonna freak out if he finds out about this?"
Iolaus shrugged and shifted a little closer to Auto, bracing himself against
the mattress and swaying close enough to brush their lips together. It was the
first time he'd made any kind of move without Auto initiating it, and Auto
couldn't help grinning when he pulled back. "I don't really care right now,"
Iolaus finally answered, his gaze locked on Auto's face as he waited for the
other boy to react.
"Me either," Auto said, his smile growing a little brighter when Iolaus let out
an amused snort. He slid a hand around the older boy's neck and pulled him
forward again, parting his lips under Iolaus' mouth to taste the mingled
flavors of himself and Iolaus on their tongues. He had no idea where this was
going; it was the first time he'd ever entertained the idea of sex leading to
something more, but he hoped that this wouldn't be a one-night thing. It
surprised him more than it probably would have surprised any of his friends to
know that he actually wanted to see Iolaus again, but there it was and there
was no use denying it. It wasn't like the brooding obsession he'd nursed for
Cupid for the past few months, but he liked Iolaus and he was getting tired of
messing around with people he could care less about.
This was…nice. Different from what he was used to, but he was pretty sure he
could get used to it. Being the sole focus of the other person's attention made
things way more intense, but in a way that made it all even better. And it
meant he could spend as much time kissing Iolaus as he wanted, which was
something he could definitely get used to. He loved the way they fit together,
the solid weight of a strong, masculine chest pinning him down and the rhythmic
thrust of hips moving lazily against his own. He loved that he could make
Iolaus whimper just by sucking the other boy's tongue into his mouth, and he
loved that Iolaus didn't even know how needy he sounded.
He parted his legs a little more to let the other boy settle more completely
against him, sliding one leg over Iolaus' thigh to pull him even closer. He had
no way of knowing how long they'd been in the room, but he had a feeling nobody
was looking for them. Chances were their friends really had arranged this whole
thing, which meant they had all night to do whatever they wanted. And there
were a lot of things Auto wanted to do, but he'd be happy with just kissing
Iolaus for as long as they could stand it.
Iolaus was a great kisser, but it was more than just that. It was a combination
of the warm weight holding him down and the hands moving over every bit of his
skin that Iolaus could reach, the mouth moving possessively against his own and
the knowledge that they had all the time in the world. It was enough to make
Auto's head spin, but it was a good kind of dizziness, like he was floating or
just really, really high. He laughed at that, breaking the kiss to gasp for
breath as he wondered if Psyche had slipped him something before Iolaus got
there.
"What?" Iolaus asked, grinning down at Auto as he waited for the other boy to
let him in on the joke.
The confused grin on the other boy's face made him look younger than he was,
and once Auto's laughter finally subsided he shook his head and ran a hand
through thick blond hair. "I don't remember," he said, leaning up to plant
another kiss on the corner of Iolaus' mouth when the older boy frowned at him.
"Just something dumb about Psyche."
"What's the deal with you two, anyway?" Iolaus asked. It was a weird time to
bring up that subject, and Auto would have laughed again if Iolaus didn't look
just a little jealous. That was enough to make him wonder if they really were
going somewhere with this thing between them, and he found himself swallowing a
healthy dose of hope along with his laughter.
"No deal. We were going out and now we're not. I think we're both pretty ready
to move on."
"So she's not your girlfriend?"
Auto grinned at that and fell back against the mattress again, shaking his head
against the pillow. "I just told you, we broke up. I mean she didn't say she
doesn't wanna be my girlfriend anymore, but I'm guessing setting me up with you
is a hint."
"And that doesn't bother you?" Iolaus asked, frowning as though he thought Auto
should be more upset about the end of his relationship.
"Why should it? Like I said, we're both pretty much over it. She's my best
friend, but I don't need to sleep with her. Besides, she's got a thing for
Xena." He wasn't sure how anybody could have missed that, but Iolaus looked
like it was news to him. Then again, maybe it was only obvious to people that
really knew Psyche. "Why are we talking about this right now?"
"I have no idea," Iolaus admitted. He let Auto pull him down for another kiss,
stretching out over the other boy again. Auto groaned at the slide of answering
hardness against his own quickly hardening cock, wrapping his arms around
Iolaus to pull him closer. He didn't want to talk about Psyche; he didn't want
to think about her, and he sure as hell didn't want to see her any time soon.
The only reason he planned to get out of this bed in the next few hours was to
fish the tube of lube out of the pocket of his jeans, and he was already
wondering if that was really worth it. He wanted to make Iolaus' first time as
good as possible, though, whichever way he decided he wanted it. Maybe he'd
even decide he wanted to try both ways; Auto could definitely get behind that
plan, but no matter what Iolaus wanted he was more than happy to go along for
the ride.
~
It was kind of like watching a TV show, Cupid decided. It wasn't just that they
were watching Auto and Iolaus on an actual TV screen; that helped, but there
was so much drama going on in that room that he couldn't help getting caught up
in the storyline.
Not that he could actually hear what they were saying, which could have been
part of the reason it all seemed so dramatic. He might have felt a little
guiltier if they could hear what was going on, though, so in a way he was just
as glad they couldn't. Watching was one thing, but knowing what they were
talking about seemed like more of an invasion of privacy. He knew there were
things that he'd said to Strife when they were alone together that he wouldn't
want anyone else to hear, and there were things Strife had said to him that
would lose some of their meaning if he said them in front of other people.
Thinking of Auto and Iolaus as a couple was probably a little premature, but
they really did look good together and they seemed to be getting along really
well. Things between him and Strife had started out a lot less romantically,
after all, and now they were moving in together. So maybe Cupid had been right
all along and Auto and Iolaus really were perfect for each other. He smiled at
that thought and glanced over at Strife, letting his hand settle on the other
boy's thigh.
Strife jumped at the contact and looked over at Cupid, his expression one that
Cupid recognized instantly. He knew the feeling; watching Auto and Iolaus was
kind of weird, but it would have been impossible not to get a little turned on
after watching them together. He cleared his throat and nodded in the direction
of the door, grinning when Strife nodded emphatically and stood up.
"We're gonna go…uh…find something to eat or something," Cupid said, standing up
and glancing at Psyche long enough to realize she wasn't even looking at him.
In fact, judging by the rapt expression on both girls' faces, he could have
announced exactly what they were going to do and they wouldn't even have
blinked.
"Sure, whatever," Psyche answered distractedly. "Just not in my room."
Cupid flushed and rolled his eyes, grabbing Strife's hand and pulling him
toward the door. "Yeah, I know," he muttered as he pulled the door open and led
Strife into the hallway. As soon as they were safely out of the room he stopped
and leaned against the closed door, tugging on the hand still caught in his
until Strife took the hint and leaned against him. "I hate it when she does
that."
"What, tells ya not ta have sex in her room? That happen a lot?"
"No," Cupid answered, flushing all over again when Strife smirked at him. "I
mean she could pretend she doesn't know where we're going, couldn't she? It
wouldn't kill her."
"Maybe she does it 'cause ya look so cute when yer blushin'," Strife said. He
leaned up to plant a placating kiss on Cupid's lips before he pulled away to
look at the other boy again. "Seriously, though, Cupe, can we find someplace a
little less public ta talk about it?"
Cupid nodded and pushed himself off the door again, leading Strife down the
hallway and up the stairs. He stopped not far from the room Auto and Iolaus
were in, opening the door and glancing around to make sure the room was empty
before he pulled Strife in behind him. He barely had time to turn the lights on
before he was being pushed toward the bed, Strife's hands already under his
shirt and pushing it over his chest.
"In a hurry?" he asked, raising one eyebrow as he hit the edge of the bed and
sat down.
Strife rolled his eyes and tugged on Cupid's shirt until he lifted his arms
long enough to let Strife pull it off. He pulled his own shirt off before
climbing onto the bed and pushing Cupid backwards, bracing his hands on either
side of the younger boy's face and leaning forward to fuse their lips together.
Cupid had just begun to relax into the kiss when Strife pulled back abruptly
and glanced around the room as though he was looking for something. "Ya don't
think she'd watch us, do ya?" he asked when he finally looked down at Cupid
again.
"Who, Psyche? She seemed pretty focused when we left, she probably wouldn't
think of it. Besides, she doesn't know which room we're in, it would take her
too long to find us and she'd miss what Auto and Iolaus were doing."
"Ya know, Cupe, yer friends are weird," Strife said, grinning as he relaxed and
leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the other boy's lips.
"Hey, Xena's the one who wanted sound," Cupid shot back, but he matched
Strife's grin with one of his own as he slid a hand around the other boy's neck
and tugged him forward again. They kissed more slowly this time, Cupid's
fingers stroking through Strife's hair as the other boy moved against him.
Finally Strife let him up for air, shifting a little to tug at the button on
Cupid's jeans.
"Do you think they'll figure out that we set them up?" Cupid asked, pushing
himself up on his elbows to watch Strife slide his zipper down.
As soon as he got the words out the other boy's hands stilled, and Strife let
out a frustrated sigh when he looked up at Cupid again. "Cupe, yer killin' me
here. Why're we still talkin' about our friends?"
"I just wondered. I mean they looked like they liked each other, don't you
think?"
"Yeah, I think ya could say that," Strife answered, grinning in spite of his
frustration. "Look, Cupe, it's done, so what they figure out now is outta our
hands, right? If yer worried that they're gonna be pissed, from the looks of it
I don't think ya need ta worry. If anybody's pissed, it's gonna be Herc."
Cupid frowned at the mention of Hercules, but before he could register his
opinion on that subject two fingers pressed against his lips. "Cupe, can we
talk about it tomorrow? Like maybe on the train back ta the city?"
He grinned and nodded, pressing a kiss to the tips of Strife's fingers before
they disappeared only to be replaced by Strife's mouth. He groaned and lifted
his hips to let Strife tug his jeans down, all his worries about their friends
disappearing as Strife crawled over him again. This beat watching Auto and
Iolaus or anybody else, for that matter; he didn’t even care if Psyche decided
to turn on the camera in the room they were in, because as long as he was with
Strife nothing else mattered.
~
"They really are kind of sweet, aren't they?" Psyche said, tilting her head to
the side as she watched Iolaus stretch out on top of Auto.
Xena grinned and glanced over at the other girl, but Psyche was too engrossed
in the show to notice the other girl watching her. It was an even more
interesting view than the one on the monitor, and Xena wasn't about to pass up
an opportunity to watch Psyche while she wasn't paying attention. She really
was beautiful, and now that Xena had spent a little time with her she didn't
seem nearly as strange as she came off at first.
"Yeah. It's kind of romantic, really."
"I know," Psyche said, tearing her gaze away from the scene in front of her
long enough to smile at Xena. "I can honestly say I've never seen Auto like
this before. He's usually way more…something. Detached, maybe. Anyway, he's
always in a hurry. Do you think that means anything?"
"Maybe he's trying not to scare him," Xena offered. She didn't really believe
it, though, because from what she could tell Auto seemed completely focused on
Iolaus. If she didn't know better she'd think they were an actual couple, and
for the first time since she heard about this little plan of Cupid's she found
herself wondering if somebody was going to get hurt. From the little she knew
about Auto he wasn't exactly the faithful type, and Iolaus was one of the most
loyal guys she knew. If he went and fell for Auto because of one night that
their friends had arranged…well, it was too late to take it back now, so all
she could do was hope for the best.
They watched in silence for a few minutes, both of them absorbed in the slow,
sensual kiss. Xena had to admit that she wouldn't really have expected that
from Auto, and Psyche sounded as surprised by his sudden personality shift as
Xena was. Not that she really knew him, but he didn't really seem like the
romantic type. Iolaus, on the other hand…he'd always been popular with girls,
and she suspected part of the reason was because he knew how to treat them. It
had to be different with two guys, but when it came to making somebody feel
wanted there wasn't that much difference.
The funny thing was that she used to joke with Iolaus that if she was straight
he'd be the perfect boyfriend. Only now, watching him with Auto, it was obvious
that she wasn't his type at all. They'd always wondered about him, but until
she saw it with her own eyes she hadn't really believed he'd go through with
it. He worried way too much about what Hercules thought, for one thing, and if
Herc could see him right now he wouldn't see anything romantic about it at all.
She let out a sigh and sent up a quick prayer to whatever god was in charge of
sexually confused drummers that Herc wouldn't cut Iolaus out of his life the
second he found out.
"What's the matter?" Psyche asked, turning away from the monitor as soon as she
registered the sound of Xena's sigh.
"Nothing," Xena answered, granting the other girl a weak grin. "I was just
thinking about what Herc's gonna say when he finds out about this."
Psyche frowned at the mention of Iolaus' best friend, glancing up at the
monitor again before she answered. "Does he have to find out?"
"Well, Iolaus is still his best friend, and I'm guessing he's not gonna be able
to chalk tonight up to curiosity. I mean we've teased him about it before, but
now that he's gone through with it…"
"He's gonna have to come out to Herc," Psyche finished for her, letting out a
sigh of her own. "Do you think he'll really freak out? He's friends with
Strife, that should count for something."
Xena nodded and shifted her weight on the leather couch. "Yeah, they've been
friends forever. Iolaus is his best friend, though – Herc might see it as a
betrayal or something. Then again, maybe he'll be too busy with Gabbie and the
baby to care."
"Cupid mentioned that," Psyche said softly, sympathy shining in her eyes when
Xena looked up at her again. "If you want to talk about it…I mean I know you
liked her, it's gotta suck to find out something like that."
"It's gotta suck more to know you're stuck with Herc," Xena said, matching
Psyche's sad smile with a smirk. "Seriously, Gabbie and I were just friends –
we still are, I guess – so it's not like I really lost anything. Besides, I
knew it wasn't going anywhere. It was definitely time for me to get over it."
"So are you? Over it, I mean."
During the few conversations they'd had before tonight Xena had spent so much
time telling herself Psyche wasn't interested that she'd missed the hope in the
other girl's voice. She heard it clearly this time, though, and she couldn't
help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I'm over it."
Psyche's smile practically made her glow, and for a long moment Xena forgot
what they were doing in the room in the first place. When she saw something
move out of the corner of her eye she glanced over at the monitor again,
flushing when she realized what was going on. "Maybe we should…"
"Yeah," Psyche answered, standing up and rounding the desk to switch off the
monitors. She cleared her throat and looked up at Xena when she finished,
smiling sheepishly as she met the other girl's gaze. "I guess Cupid was right
about Iolaus after all."
"He definitely seems to be enjoying himself," Xena said, grinning when Psyche
laughed. She had a feeling that was the biggest understatement of the night,
but the sound of Psyche's laughter made it worth it. If Iolaus was in over his
head he was at least making up for lost time, and Auto definitely seemed
willing to help him along. She was a little surprised that he was letting
Iolaus top, but she wasn't going to spend a lot of time thinking about the
psychology of Iolaus' sex life. At least she was going to try not to, but she
was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to get that image out of her head any time
soon.

                       Part Thirty-Six – Bonding Rituals
The party was still in full swing when Xena and Psyche emerged from her
father’s office, but they managed to find some junk food in the kitchen and a
relatively quiet corner on a couch near the back of the family room.
"Are you sure you shouldn't be mingling or something?" Xena asked as they
settled onto the couch, glancing around at the roomful of teenagers before she
turned back to Psyche.
"Nah, half these people hate me anyway. To tell you the truth I don't even like
parties all that much, I just throw them because I know it makes my parents
crazy." Psyche grinned at Xena's expression and pulled the top off a pint of
Haagen Daz, digging a spoon into the ice cream and folding her legs up
underneath her on the couch.
"You mean you invited a bunch of people you don't even like to your house?"
"I didn't really invite anybody," she answered, shrugging and glancing around
at the faces of her classmates. "Word just kind of gets around. You know,
'party at Psyche's place, her parents are off pickling their livers in Europe
again'. Everybody shows up, it's not like there's anything else to do around
here. Besides, they don't have to talk to me. I just provide the house."
"That doesn't bother you?"
She grinned again because she couldn't help thinking of the first time Cupid
had come to one of her parties. He'd said almost exactly the same thing when
Psyche told him she didn't like most of the kids at their school, and he'd
looked even more confused than Xena. "Why should it?" she finally answered. "I
mean it's not like I wanna talk to them either. Besides, staring at Auto gets a
little old after awhile. We have to do something or we'd go crazy."
"Is that why you two…?" Xena trailed off with a tight, embarrassed smile, and
even though the flush in her cheeks made her look a little softer than usual
Psyche was too busy kicking herself to notice. She'd assumed the subject would
come up sooner or later, but she'd been hoping for later. If she hadn't brought
up Auto she probably wouldn't be explaining herself already, but maybe getting
it out of the way was for the best. At least that way she'd know where she
stood; if Xena was grossed out by her relationship with Auto she wanted to know
now, before she got her hopes up any higher than they already were.
"Auto was the one that first thought of it," she said, wincing when she
realized she already sounded like she was trying to blame him. She'd never
really felt the need to explain herself before, but for some reason the thought
of Xena judging her bothered her a lot more than the whispers she heard at
school. "I think it was his way of getting around admitting that he liked guys.
I guess I was curious, and after awhile it just seemed normal. Plus, it was
kind of fun freaking out the girls at school. They all thought I was such a
slut anyway, even though Auto was the first guy I ever slept with. So I guess I
just proved them right."
"Being curious doesn't make you a slut," Xena said when Psyche stopped to catch
her breath. Her voice was low, but she was smiling a little self-consciously
and it was easy for Psyche to convince herself that Xena wasn't just being
nice. She wanted to believe that; more than anything she wanted to believe
that, but she knew how easily she could be wrong. "Neither does a little
experimenting. You're supposed to do that when you're young, right?"
Xena reached over and pulled the ice cream out of Psyche's slack hand, trying
and failing to hide a smirk as she dug the spoon into the container. Psyche
knew she must be grinning like an idiot, but she didn't even mind that Xena was
sort of laughing at her. As long as she wasn't disgusted Psyche was happy to
put up with a little teasing. There was one thing Xena had said that they
needed to clear up immediately, however, and she managed to swallow her
surprise long enough to find her voice again. "I'm not that young."
"Younger than me."
"By what, two years?"
"Four." Xena grinned again and handed the ice cream back to Psyche. "I'm 21.
Strife's the baby of the group."
"Oh." For a second Psyche looked a little crestfallen, but a moment later she
brightened and shifted a little closer to the other girl. "Girls mature faster
than boys, though, so that doesn't really count. Besides, I'm 18, so that's
only three years."
She flashed a smug smile at the older girl when Xena rolled her eyes. She'd
never really thought about their age difference; it didn't matter to her, and
she had a feeling Xena didn't really care either. In fact, she was almost sure
of it, because every time she glanced over at Xena she caught the other girl
watching her. "I guess you've got a point," Xena conceded. "You have a fake
I.D., anyway; Gabbie says you're always at the clubs."
"How come I've never seen you before?" Psyche asked, remembering suddenly the
question she'd been dying to ask since she first laid eyes on Xena. "You're
from the city, right? So how come you were never at the shows before you joined
the band?"
"I used to be. When I was first out of high school I went to all the shows. You
probably weren't hanging out at the clubs yet then, so you wouldn't have seen
me. Then I met…someone, and after we broke up that whole scene just reminded me
too much of her. So I stopped going to shows until Strife begged me to fill in
for their bassist. He knows the band's not my whole life, though. I'm starting
my senior year at NYU this fall."
"Really? I'll be a freshman," Psyche said. "I'm not really sure if college is
for me, but if it gets me out of my parents' house I'll try anything."
"You'll like college. It's totally different than high school. The people that
are there want to be there, and people don't waste a lot of time gossiping
about stuff that's none of their business." Xena glanced meaningfully at the
people around them; a few of Psyche's classmates had been giving them weird
looks since they sat down, but Psyche was used to ignoring it by now. She
forgot until Xena brought it up that not everyone got that kind of attention
almost all the time.
She smiled and managed not to follow Xena's gaze, unwilling to ruin the moment
by acknowledging the fact that there were other people in the room. If it
hadn't been for Auto and Iolaus she might have bailed on the party and just
thrown a private party for the six of them, but she knew they never would have
tricked Auto and Iolaus into getting together if there hadn't been an actual
party. They would have been way too self-conscious to go through with it, so in
a way Psyche was glad her house was still full of kids from her high school.
"So who was the girl? Unless you don't want to talk about her," she added
quickly, hoping she wasn't crossing some line by asking about Xena's past.
For a moment Xena's eyes darkened, but almost immediately she blinked and
managed a small smile. "Just someone I met when I was too young to know better.
Her name was Callisto."
"Did you love her?"
"I guess so," Xena answered, looking down at the cushion between them as she
spoke. "Like I said, I was only 18 when I met her, so I didn't really know what
I was doing. Neither of us did. We were together for almost two years, then
things just kind of ended. It was just one of those things, you know?"
"Yeah, I think I know what you mean," Psyche said, smiling sadly at the thought
of all the time she and Auto had spent lying to themselves and each other. "Do
you still see her?"
"She graduated last spring. I haven't seen her around since then, at least not
in the few months we've been playing the clubs." Xena paused and for just a
second Psyche thought she might have pushed too hard; she wasn't really all
that good at talking about stuff like this, and she had no idea if she was
allowed to ask questions about Xena's past. "I guess that's why I got hung up
on Gabbie even though I knew it wasn't going anywhere. It was easy because I
didn't have to worry about screwing up another relationship."
"I'm sure you didn't screw anything up." For all Psyche knew Xena really had
made a complete mess of things with her last girlfriend, but she wasn't about
to sit there and let the other girl blame herself. It didn't really matter
whose fault it was, the point was that it had been over for at least a year and
with any luck, Xena was finally ready to move on.
Xena looked up then, her smile chasing the sadness out of her eyes. "Thanks for
saying that," she said. "Even if you are just trying to make me feel better."
"It's a talent," Psyche answered, her grin faltering a little when Xena
laughed. "What, didn't it work?"
"It's starting to," Xena said, and for the first time all night Psyche actually
believed her.
~
There had to be something seriously wrong with him. It was the only explanation
for the past few hours; he'd gone temporarily insane, or maybe there was
something in his drink that made him lose his mind. Only he hadn't had anything
to drink, and three long, sweaty hours later Iolaus had to face the fact that
he'd wanted to do this. He'd wanted to have sex with a guy, and not just once.
If it had stopped with Auto sucking him off he could have called it sexual
frustration; it didn't necessarily make him gay or bi or whatever the hell he
was just because he let some guy get him off.
Only it hadn't stopped there, and not only had he given his first blow job, but
he'd actually fucked another guy. And he'd really, really liked it, which was
so not the way this was supposed to go. He was supposed to be getting these
weird urges out of his system, not magnifying them until all he could think
about was the smell of sweat and come and the feeling of a well-muscled,
masculine body moving against him. This was supposed to be a threesome; he'd
talked himself into going through with a threesome, because sex with a couple
was kinky, but it didn't make him…whatever he was. That he could have written
off as an experiment, but this…this went way beyond the experiment stage.
And the worst part was that Auto had offered to fuck him, and part of Iolaus
wanted to go through with it. Part of him knew that it would be way better than
the few clumsy experiments with his own fingers that had always left him
feeling confused and just a little dirty. He knew Auto would take his time,
too, that he'd make sure Iolaus was as relaxed as possible and that he knew
enough about what he was doing to make sure it didn't hurt any more than it had
to.
He wasn't getting hard again just thinking about it. He'd already come twice,
and Auto had passed out pretty much as soon as he came the second time. What he
should do was get up, put his clothes back on, and drive back to the city.
Strife and Xena could find their own way back; they were the ones that had set
him up, after all, and it would serve them right for doing this to him. Only he
wasn't sure he could drive right now, because his head was swimming and his
legs felt sort of rubbery and he had a feeling if he tried to stand up right
now that he'd wind up flat on his ass.
There was no way he could just stay there and watch Auto sleep, though, because
even looking at the body stretched out next to him made him want more. More of
something he was pretty sure he shouldn't want, and if he stayed…well, if he
stayed he just might get it, because Auto seemed perfectly happy to go along
with anything Iolaus wanted. It was possible that if he reached over and shook
the other boy awake that Auto would just grin at him and roll over, either that
or do that thing where he got Iolaus to say out loud exactly what he wanted.
And if that wasn't totally humiliating he didn't know what was, but at the same
time it was really sexy and at least part of him was really interested in more.
It just didn't seem fair that he was getting hard just watching Auto sleep, not
when this whole thing had been a big mistake in the first place. At least if
Psyche had been there…but if she'd been there she would have been just another
obstacle, and Iolaus probably would have been left wondering what it would have
been like if she hadn't been there. There was no denying to himself that he was
definitely attracted to guys, no going back to lying to himself and pretending
the fantasies and dreams were just some weird trick his mind played on him. And
even though it was never going to happen with his best friend, it had happened
with someone, and now Iolaus was going to have to face Strife and Xena and
Cupid and even Psyche. But worse than that, he was going to have to come clean
with Herc, and then he wouldn't have a best friend anymore.
A sigh escaped his throat before he could stop it, punctuating the silence in
the room and making the body next to his shift restlessly. He wouldn't have
taken Auto for such a light sleeper, but as soon as he moved his eyes opened
and a moment later Iolaus found himself staring back at a sleepy, sated
expression. "Hey."
"Hey," Iolaus echoed, stopping just short of rolling his eyes at his own
stupidity. "I didn't mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep."
Auto grinned again, but instead of listening to Iolaus' advice he rolled onto
his side and reached out to run a hand along the curve of the older boy's hip.
"Nah, I'm good. Besides, looks like you're not done yet." He glanced down at
Iolaus' quickly growing erection, raising an eyebrow and smirking as he met the
other boy's gaze again. "You want some help with that?"
Iolaus opened his mouth to say no, that he was okay and Auto should just please
go back to sleep before the situation got any more confusing than it already
was. The words never came, though, and a moment later it didn't matter because
Auto's mouth was moving against his and his tongue was doing things that really
should be illegal. He heard a groan and he knew it was his own, but he ignored
the sound and the blush rising from his toes to spread through his extremities.
All his extremities, and now he had something new to be embarrassed about,
because until tonight he'd had no idea that his dick could blush.
He'd had hand jobs before; he'd never had a real problem with girls, and back
in high school that was kind of the compromise to keep their virginity intact.
He'd always preferred jerking himself off over letting some girl fumble around
with his dick, though, and now he knew why. Auto's hand was firm on his dick,
his fingers long and masculine and his palm a little rough against the silk of
Iolaus' cock. It was nothing like the soft, delicate hands that had touched him
this way before, and none of those girls knew half of what Auto knew about how
fast to move or how firmly to squeeze. And the fact that even a hand job from
another guy did more for him than sex with a girl should have told Iolaus
something, but he wasn't going to think about it. He wasn't thinking about
anything except the way that strong hand felt moving on him. Then there was the
way Auto's tongue felt against his, the way his free hand threaded through
Iolaus' hair and the surprising softness of his lips against Iolaus' mouth.
Later he'd think something corny about mirror images and matching body parts,
but for now he was too caught up in sensation to think about what any of it
meant. And that was the problem, because he'd known the second that Auto woke
up and looked at him that he wasn't getting out of this easily. It wasn't just
a question of standing up and walking out the next time Auto fell asleep,
because even if he took off in the middle of the night he'd have to live with
the memories. This…need of his wasn't going away no matter how hard he wished
that it would, and one night wasn't going to be enough to exorcise it from his
system.
He came embarrassingly fast considering he'd already come twice in the past few
hours, spilling moist heat over Auto's hand and both their stomachs. He was
still panting and flushed when the mouth that had been moving against his
disappeared, and he forced himself to open his eyes in time to watch Auto lift
sticky fingers to his mouth and slowly lick them clean. And suddenly he had a
brand new mental image to plague him every night, because there was no way he'd
be able to forget the site of Auto licking his come off his fingers any time
soon. His dick twitched almost painfully at the sight, and he was caught
between wanting to get up and lock himself in the bathroom until he was sure
Auto was gone or burying his face in the other boy's neck so he wouldn't have
to see him.
The choice was taken away from him when Auto pulled him forward again, taking
advantage of Iolaus' indecision to press their lips together and coax the older
boy's mouth open with his tongue. And he still hadn't gotten used to the taste
of himself on another guy's tongue, but he hadn't really had a chance to get
used to the fact that he was kissing another guy in the first place. It was
another thing that he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be able to forget, and
all of it added up to the one thing that he'd been trying not to face about
himself since high school.
He didn't realize that somehow he'd gotten his arms around Auto's waist until
the other boy squirmed a little closer and Iolaus' arms automatically tightened
against him. Auto didn't seem to mind, though; he might not even have noticed,
because he seemed to be intent on memorizing every contour of Iolaus' mouth.
Kissing had never been quite this intense, at least not in that way that made
part of Iolaus want to bolt and the rest of him want to crawl inside Auto and
stay there forever. He knew he couldn't do that; this was just sex, that much
was clear. Auto was a great kisser and an even better lover, but regardless of
whether or not he was still with Psyche it was pretty obvious he wasn't looking
for more than one night.
That was fine with Iolaus; it was, because this had all just been an experiment
to see if he could get it out of his system. Now that he knew he couldn't he'd
deal with it, but in the meantime it probably wouldn't hurt anything if he just
let Auto keep kissing him for awhile longer. Besides, it felt nice to be
tangled up together in the center of the bed, their hands exploring hot skin
and their bodies touching in exactly twenty-three distinct places. It felt
right in a way he really didn't want to think about; not now, while it was all
still new enough for him to pretend his whole life hadn't just been turned
upside down. He knew tomorrow everything was going to be different, but for now
he had this thing that was just between the two of them, and it wouldn't really
hurt if he just held onto that for as long as he could.

                     Part Thirty-Seven – The Morning After
Auto didn’t wake up feeling magically different just because he’d finally been
alone with another guy. In fact, he woke up feeling sticky and a little sore
and warmer than he could really call comfortable, but he didn’t really mind any
of that. What he did mind was the fact that he woke up alone.
He reached out before he opened his eyes, expecting his hand to collide with
warm skin covering solid muscle. When all he felt was sheet he cracked one eye
open, frowning when he realized the other side of the bed was empty. It was
still warm, which meant Iolaus had spent the night, but there was no sign of
the other boy in the bedroom.
Auto pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing a little at the twinge of
pain that accompanied the movement. He hadn’t been sore from sex in a long
time, but Iolaus had been pretty enthusiastic and at the time it had felt
really good. Besides, the reminder of their night together didn’t bother him
nearly as much as the thought that Iolaus might have left without saying
goodbye. He knew he shouldn’t be expecting anything, but it was hard not to
hope for something. An acknowledgement, at least, a ‘thanks, maybe I’ll call
you’, even if it was a lie.
He wasn’t proud of the fact that he would have taken a lie like that and hoped
maybe Iolaus meant it. He wasn’t used to feeling like this; usually when he
slept with somebody it was a relief to wake up in the morning and find them
gone, but he didn’t usually sleep with people he knew. The one exception he
would have made before now was Cupid, and that would have complicated
everything for all of them. Iolaus wasn’t a complication, though – not really,
anyway, but if things were awkward between them now it might make hanging out
with their friends kind of weird.
In a way they all deserved the awkwardness for setting him up in the first
place, but he wasn’t really looking forward to it. Then again, it was possible
he wouldn’t really be seeing Iolaus around all that much anymore. Psyche and
Cupid would both be gone soon, they’d both have lives that didn’t really
include him and he wasn’t planning to hang around acting pathetic and hoping
they’d make a little time for him. His life wasn’t over just because his
friends were moving to the city, after all, so he wasn’t about to start acting
like it was.
That went for Iolaus, too; if he didn’t want to hang around to say goodbye that
was his problem, Auto wasn’t going to waste a lot of time worrying about it.
They didn’t mean anything to each other, they weren’t even friends so it wasn’t
like he’d lost anything. He liked the guy, sure, but it wasn’t like he was
going to fall for him or anything. They barely even knew each other, for one
thing, and he was pretty sure Iolaus wasn’t looking for a relationship. He
hadn’t even come out to all his friends yet, so there was no way he’d be able
to handle a relationship even if he did want one.
He swallowed a sigh and threw the covers back, pushing himself out of bed just
as the bathroom door swung open. As soon as he realized he wasn’t alone after
all he sat down hard on the edge of the mattress, watching Iolaus flush and
look away from him as he crossed the room. He was already wearing his jeans
again, and judging from his wet hair Auto assumed he’d been in the shower.
“Hey,” Iolaus said once he’d gathered the rest of his clothes, pulling his
shirt back on and working on the buttons with fingers that Auto could have
sworn were shaking a little. “I was trying not to wake you up.”
“You didn’t.” It was almost the truth; what had really woken Auto was the
emptiness on the other side of the bed, which technically wasn’t the same thing
as Iolaus waking him. “I thought you were already gone.”
Just for a second he imagined he could see something like guilt in Iolaus’
eyes, but the other boy looked away so fast that Auto couldn’t tell for sure.
“Yeah, I’ve gotta get back. Told Herc I’d help him move some stuff to Gabbie’s
place today.”
Auto nodded slowly, his mind wandering as he watched Iolaus finish buttoning
his shirt and reach for his shoes and socks. He didn’t want to be disappointed
at the fact that the other boy was in a hurry to get out of there, but he
couldn’t help regretting the fact that they hadn’t done nearly everything he
would have liked. And now it looked like there wasn’t going to be a next time,
so he was just going to have to deal with the fact that there were certain
things about Iolaus that he’d never know.
Finally Iolaus finished tying his shoelaces and stood up again, stealing a
quick, nervous glance at Auto. “Well, listen, thanks,” he said, his cheeks
flushing a little brighter red when Auto grinned at him.
“Any time,” Auto answered, leaning back on his hands to watch Iolaus fish his
keys out of his pocket. He knew the older boy felt completely awkward, and the
fact that Auto was still completely naked probably wasn’t helping. He didn’t
want to let Iolaus off the hook, though, because he was enjoying the fact that
he had that kind of affect on the other boy. Besides, Iolaus was pretty cute
when he blushed, and it wasn’t like Auto was going to get another chance to see
it.
He thought about standing up and crossing the room to plant one last kiss on
Iolaus, but he was no match for the speed brought on by the mixture of Iolaus'
nerves and embarrassment. Before Auto could move the older boy was backed up
against the door, his hand gripping the doorknob as though it was taking
everything in him not to turn and run. “So maybe I’ll see you around.”
Up until that moment Auto hadn’t thought it would be that bad to hear those
words. They didn’t really mean anything, but something about the way Iolaus
said them like he was hoping for exactly the opposite made Auto’s stomach
clench in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Yeah, sure. See ya,” he
answered, his gaze never wavering as he watched Iolaus turn around and pull the
door open. Less than five seconds later he was gone, and Auto was left staring
at the closed door and wondering how he could have thought there might be
something between them.
He’d known it was wishful thinking; it was just because he’d been watching
Cupid and Strife for almost two months now, and every once in awhile he caught
himself wishing he had something like that. With Psyche it was different; he
loved her, sure, but he wasn’t crazy head over heels in love with her like
Cupid and Strife were. He still didn't get how Cupid could be so crazy about
somebody he hadn't known that long, but he was willing to admit that he was a
little jealous. Mostly he just wondered what it was like to feel that way, but
he wasn't naïve enough to think he was going to find out with Iolaus.
It wasn't worth worrying about anyway , because Iolaus was already gone and he
couldn't lie around in Psyche's guest room brooding about it forever. If he
wanted to brood he had to go home, either that or Psyche was going to come
looking for him eventually and start asking questions he wasn't in the mood to
answer. A heavy sigh escaped his throat when he finally stood up, willing his
mind to go blank as he gathered his clothes and slowly got dressed again. He
still reeked of sex but he couldn't bring himself to take a shower yet, because
he knew as soon as he did he wouldn't be able to smell Iolaus on him anymore.
It would wait until he got home, anyway, and the sooner he got out of Psyche's
house the better.
When he was dressed he let himself out of the room and back downstairs,
scanning the remnants of the last party of his high school career. A party he'd
completely missed because he was locked in a room all night with some guy he'd
probably never see again, and he wasn't sure whether or not he regretted it.
Part of him felt like he should, but the funny thing was that he really didn't.
Mostly he was just relieved to know that he didn't have to lie to himself
anymore, and he found himself hoping that Iolaus had gotten at least that much
out of their night together.
He'd almost made it to the back door when something caught his eye, and he
couldn't help smiling when he stopped and glanced into the family room. Psyche
was curled up on the couch that stretched across the back wall of the room, her
hand tucked under her cheek and her legs tucked under her. Xena was fast asleep
next to her, Psyche's head almost touching Xena's leg in the center of the
couch. He chuckled softly to himself and crossed to the couch, being as quiet
as possible so he wouldn't wake Xena.
When he reached Psyche he crouched down next to the couch, reaching out to push
a few strands of hair away from her forehead. She stirred at the contact and
her eyes slowly fluttered open, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth
when she found herself staring back at him. "Hi. Good night?"
"Yeah. You?" he asked, glancing pointedly at Xena before he looked back at her.
"Getting there," she answered, stretching and pushing herself into a sitting
position. "Where's Iolaus?"
"He left already," Auto said, ignoring the worry that clouded her features
momentarily. "Look, I'm gonna bail, but I just wanted to say thanks. I get what
you were trying to tell me."
The worry marring her features was eclipsed almost immediately by guilt, and
for a second he thought about letting her suffer. He knew she was probably
worried he was going to be mad at her, but he didn't want to ruin whatever was
happening for her with Xena by making her think he was upset. "I mean it,
Psyche. Thanks." He grinned and leaned up to brush his lips across her cheek
briefly before standing up and clearing his throat a little more loudly than he
needed to. Xena stirred at the sound of the noise, and he grinned even more
brightly when Psyche glared at him. "See you guys later."
He left without waiting for an answer, laughing to himself at the memory of
Psyche's expression. He knew he was in for not only a lecture but a lot of
potentially embarrassing questions the next time she got him alone, but it was
almost worth it just to see her expression. Besides, she would have asked him
the questions eventually anyway, and if he was going to tell anyone about what
it was like to sleep with Iolaus it would be her. She was still his best
friend, after all, and no matter who they dated nothing would ever change that.
~
Psyche wasn't really mad at Auto for waking Xena up. She would have woken up
eventually, after all; it was just that Psyche could have used a little time to
prepare. Like maybe run to the bathroom to wash her face. Brushing her teeth
would have been nice, too, and possibly a fresh coat of makeup. None of that
was going to happen, though, because Xena was already sitting up and shifting
awkwardly on the couch next to her.
"Morning," Xena said. "Was that Auto?"
"Yeah, he was on his way out."
"Where's Iolaus?"
"Auto said he left already," Psyche answered, frowning as she remembered her
friend's vague answer. "I don't know when. Do you think he left last night?"
"I don't know," Xena said, not quite managing to keep the worry out of her
features.
Psyche instantly felt guilty for her part in setting up their friends, but she
was pretty sure things had gone well. If they hadn't Auto wouldn't have been
smiling at her the way he had, and he wouldn't have thanked her for setting him
up. At least she was pretty sure he wouldn't. "I'm sure he's okay," she said,
hoping to alleviate some of the other girl's worry. "Auto was in a pretty good
mood when he left, anyway."
"Yeah, he probably just needed to clear his head or something." Xena managed a
smile that was almost convincing, and for a second Psyche forgot that she
wasn't allowed to just lean forward and kiss her. She remembered before she did
anything embarrassing like sway into the other girl's body heat, clearing her
throat and standing up to put a little distance between them.
"If you want to take a shower you can use mine. It's the first door right at
the top of the stairs," she said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the
staircase as she spoke. "I think there's an extra toothbrush in one of the
drawers, too. There are clean towels in there already."
"Thanks," Xena said, smiling self-consciously as she stood up and stepped
around the other girl. Psyche wasn't used to feeling so nervous around…well,
anyone, really, but she'd never met anybody like Xena before. She had no idea
when the butterflies in her stomach would stop revolting every time she saw the
other girl, but she had a feeling it wouldn't be any time soon.
Once Xena was gone she let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been
holding, shaking her head at herself and crossing the family room to the powder
room opposite the kitchen. She brushed her teeth with the spare toothbrush she
kept downstairs before she wandered into the kitchen, smiling in spite of her
own nerves when she took in the scene in front of her.
Cupid was standing in front of the stove in a pair of jeans and the gray
Neptune High tee shirt he'd been wearing the night before, his hair hopelessly
tousled and his feet bare. Strife was standing next to him, and as she watched
the older boy reached up and wiped a smudge of what looked like flour off
Cupid's cheek. Neither of them heard her come in, obviously, because as soon as
Strife touched him Cupid leaned forward and covered the other boy's mouth with
his own. She wasn't sure how long she watched them before she realized why
Cupid had flour on his cheek in the first place, but when she smelled something
burning she cleared her throat to get their attention.
They both looked up at once, twin expressions of shock coaxing a laugh out of
her. "Cupe, you might wanna check whatever you're cooking."
"Oh, shit," he muttered, turning back to the stove just in time to pull a pan
off the burner. He scowled and carried the pan to the sink, dumping three very
black pancakes into the garbage disposal before he turned around again. "Guess
I forgot what I was doing."
"Yeah, seems like that's going around," she said, grinning at the looks they
both sent in her direction. "So did you guys have fun last night?"
They exchanged glances before they answered her, and it was all she could do
not to roll her eyes at Cupid's dreamy expression when he looked at her again.
"It was great. How about you and Xena? Did you guys watch Auto and Iolaus all
night?"
"Not all night," she answered, pulling one of the bar stools out from
underneath the island at the center of the kitchen and taking a seat across
from Cupid. "After awhile we decided they probably deserved a little privacy."
"So are they still asleep?" Strife asked, leaning against the counter next to
Cupid while the younger boy worked on not burning the rest of their breakfast.
"No, Auto just left a little while ago. He said Iolaus left earlier, but he
didn't say when."
"What about Xena?"
"Shower," Psyche answered, her smile fading at the thought of Iolaus' abrupt
departure. "You should probably know that Auto figured out we set him up. You
don't think that's why Iolaus left, do you?"
"He figured it out? What makes ya say that?"
"Because he woke me up before he left and said that he wanted to thank me. Then
he said he got what I was trying to tell him."
Cupid's forehead furrowed at that, forgetting the new batch of pancakes long
enough to look over at her. "What does that mean?"
"I guess he meant because we kind of tricked him into doing it without me
around. The idea of being alone with another guy always kind of freaked him
out, maybe he just needed that extra push to see that it wasn't that big a
deal."
She hadn't meant to worry either of them, but she could tell by Strife's
expression that his mind was already reeling with the possibilities of what had
made Iolaus leave before the rest of them woke up. It could have been something
as simple as him not wanting to have to face them yet, but she could tell there
wasn't much she'd be able to say to set Strife's mind at ease. "But hey, if
they figured it out and went through with it anyway that's a good sign, right?
I mean they wouldn't have done it if they didn't want to."
"Right," Cupid said, nodding and turning back to the stove. "He's fine. They're
both fine, Iolaus probably just wanted to get back to the city or something."
"He's probably helpin' Herc move his stuff outta our place," Strife added. "I
heard Herc talkin' 'bout movin' into Gabbie's parents' place with her, there's
an apartment in the basement a their house or somethin'."
"Wow, they're moving in together?" Psyche asked, glancing over her shoulder as
soon as she said it to make sure Xena hadn't suddenly appeared.
"Relax, she already knows," Strife said as he followed Psyche's gaze. "She's
cool with it. Lately she's been thinkin' 'bout other stuff besides Gabbie's
problems."
He grinned when Psyche blushed, letting out a soft laugh at her reaction.
"Don't tell her I said that, though. She'd kill me."
"She'd have to go through me first," Cupid said, smiling and leaning over to
plant a quick kiss on Strife's cheek. Strife snorted but his grin was genuinely
affectionate, and Psyche found herself smiling again at the sight of the couple
standing in front of her.
"Somehow I don't think that'd scare Xena," Strife said, laughing again when
Cupid stuck his lip out in a mock pout. "Yeah, that's not real scary either,
Cupe."
It didn't take long before they were kissing again, both of them so wrapped up
in each other that Psyche didn't bother pretending she wasn't watching. It was
obvious they were crazy about each other, and it was sweet even if it was a
little sickening to watch sometimes. Besides, she was happy for them that
they'd found each other, especially after listening to Cupid lament for almost
a year that he was never going to find anybody he could really love.
Maybe Auto and Iolaus weren't exactly the love connection Cupid and Strife
were, but at least it was a step in the right direction. Auto knew now that he
didn't need her to help him keep up some charade, anyway, and in the long run
that was the best thing she could have done for him. So maybe he and Iolaus
wouldn't become the next couple to live happily ever after, but at least
setting them up hadn't totally backfired.

                      Part Thirty-Eight – New Beginnings
Iolaus felt a little guilty for leaving Strife and Xena without even telling
them he was taking the van back to the city, but he knew they could catch the
train back and he needed the time alone to think about what had happened. He
still wasn’t sure what any of it meant, and he had even less of a clue what to
tell Hercules. He wasn’t even sure if he should tell his best friend anything;
maybe he didn’t have to, at least not until he knew what it all meant.
Part of him was still hoping he could just put the whole night behind him and
pretend it had never happened, but every time he tried to convince himself he
could he’d remember something that would make his whole body flush. He could
still feel those strong, callused hands against his skin or hear the sound of a
deep voice whispering in his ear, asking him over and over what he wanted. He’d
tried everything to chase the memories out of his head, but not even knowing he
was going to have to face Hercules soon was enough to stop his mind from
wandering.
He hoped that going back to the city early meant he’d beat Hercules back to
their apartment. There was no sign of his friend when he pulled up outside the
building, and he relaxed a little as he climbed the stairs up to their place.
He just needed a little time to collect himself, to push the memories of the
night before to the back of his mind and shift back into his normal life. It
shouldn’t be that hard; granted, he’d had sex with a guy for the first time,
but it was still just sex. There was no reason Hercules should be able to tell
just by looking at him.
When he reached their floor and saw that their apartment door was open he
slowed down, his heart in his throat as he realized that Hercules had beaten
him home after all. He stopped in the center of the hallway and took a deep
breath, telling himself for the hundredth time since he woke up that Hercules
wouldn’t be able to tell. There was no way he could know, and even if he
suspected something there was no reason Iolaus had to admit it. He was going to
tell Hercules – he was, he just needed a little time to work things out for
himself before he started having to explain himself to his friends.
He was still standing in the center of the hallway when Hercules walked out of
their apartment, frowning when he caught sight of Iolaus. “Where the fuck were
you?”
“I...there was this thing. A party. In Jersey. Strife drug me to it.”
“You went to a party with those high school losers?”
Iolaus resisted the urge to roll his eyes at himself for opening his big mouth
and telling Hercules the truth. He should have made up something about where
he’d spent the night, told Hercules he met some girl at a club and gone home
with her. Anything probably would have been better than the truth, at least if
his best friend’s expression was any indication. He should have known Hercules
would take it as a betrayal if Iolaus hung out with Strife and Cupid, even if
it was just a stupid high school party. “I told you, Strife made me go. He
probably just wanted a ride.”
“Well were there any hot high school chicks there?”
“No. It was totally lame,” Iolaus answered, hoping Hercules wouldn’t notice the
blush creeping into his cheeks. “So are we moving your stuff today or what?”
He brushed past Hercules without waiting for an answer, leaving the taller boy
to stare after him. Iolaus didn’t have to look at him to know Hercules was
giving him that suspicious look; he’d never been very good at lying to his
friends, and if he stood there and let Hercules ask any more questions he was
going to figure out that something had happened at the party. There was no way
Iolaus was going to tell him what it was, though, so the best thing he could do
was change the subject and hope Hercules didn’t push the issue.
And it wasn’t really a lie, because the party itself hadn’t been all that
interesting. Not what he saw of it, anyway, but he’d barely been in the house
five minutes before Psyche dragged him upstairs and left him alone with Auto.
His blush deepened as he remembered the sight of Auto stretched out in the
center of the bed in just his jeans and a tee shirt, propped up on his elbows
and staring at Iolaus like he was…well, edible. He couldn’t remember anybody
ever looking at him that way before, but as soon as Auto kissed him the first
time he felt more wanted than he ever had in his whole life.
It was a pretty amazing feeling, but it hadn’t really meant anything. So Auto
wanted him; it was flattering, sure, but it wasn’t some big earth-shattering
event. It was just sex – great sex, even better than he’d been hoping for, but
it didn’t mean anything. Right now he needed to focus on helping Hercules
figure out how to deal with Gabbie, and when that was straightened out he’d
have time to worry about his own life.
“So you’re sure you wanna do this?” he asked when Hercules walked into the
living room.
“What, move into Gabbie’s folks’ basement and raise a kid? No, I’m not sure,”
Hercules shot back, his frustration evident in his voice and his expression.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do? She already said she’s keeping the kid.”
“Just ‘cause she’s keeping the kid doesn’t mean you have to move in with her. I
mean anything could happen in the next eight months. Do you even know for sure
if it’s yours?”
The look Hercules gave him made Iolaus take an involuntary step backwards; they
hadn’t really talked about what Hercules was doing with Gabbie, but it was
obvious from his best friend’s expression that there was more going on than
just Herc getting even with Strife and Xena. “Of course it’s my kid. Do you
think I’d be moving in with her if I wasn’t sure?”
“I guess not.” He shrugged and reached for one of the trash bags Hercules had
filled with clothes, waiting until the other boy had picked up his guitar case
and another bag before he followed him out of the apartment and down the
stairs. “So what are you gonna do?”
Hercules threw his stuff in the back of the van before he turned to look at
Iolaus again, some of the anger fading out of his expression when he realized
the other boy was being sincere. “I don’t know yet. I was thinking about asking
Jack if he needs another bouncer.”
Iolaus nodded and shut the van doors, turning to follow Hercules back upstairs.
“Is covering the door at a bar a few nights a week gonna pay for a kid? I mean
I don’t know anything about them, but I hear it costs a lot for diapers and
stuff like that.”
“Yeah, Gabbie’s parents keep telling us that every time I see them,” Hercules
answered, rolling his eyes and grinning over his shoulder at the other boy.
“I’m not sure what else to do, though. It’s not like I’m good at anything
except playing the guitar, and you know how much that pays.”
They still hadn’t talked about the band, but Hercules had always been the one
that really cared about whether or not they made it, and Iolaus couldn’t
believe he was okay with just walking away. But he didn’t really have a choice,
and if he was just trying to make the best of it Iolaus wasn’t going to rub his
face in it. Not that he even knew what was going to happen with the band,
because Strife and Xena didn’t seem worried about it. For all he knew they were
ready to call it quits.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that; on the one hand the band wasn’t really
going anywhere, no matter how badly Herc had always wanted to believe that they
were the next big thing. If they did give it up Iolaus had no idea what he was
going to do, though – he’d never really thought about the future, but unless he
wanted to go back to Detroit and work for his father he was going to have to
figure it out. The thought of going home was too depressing to consider,
especially after last night. There was no way he could just forget it and talk
himself back into only dating girls, but he couldn’t go home and sleep with
guys. At least in New York he only had Hercules to worry about; at home he had
his parents, his brothers, and all his other friends, and not one of them would
understand why he suddenly wanted to date guys.
If that was even what he wanted. He definitely wanted to sleep with guys, but
the dating part he hadn’t really thought about. He and Auto had talked a
little, but it wasn’t really what he could call a conversation, and it
definitely hadn’t been a date. Actually going out somewhere with a guy would be
totally different, even if he knew where to meet guys that might be interested
in dating him. When it came right down to it he didn’t know anything about
being gay, and he had no idea how to learn.
“Hey.”
Hercules’ voice penetrated his thoughts and Iolaus looked up, his cheeks
flushing when he realized that his friend must have been trying to get his
attention for a little while. “Sorry. Tired, I guess. Didn’t sleep much last
night.” And that was definitely the wrong thing to say, because it conjured up
a fresh set of images that made him blush an even deeper shade of red.
“Whatever,” Hercules answered, frowning suspiciously at the other boy. “Just do
me a favor and grab my CDs. I think that’s pretty much everything.”
Hercules was already carrying a heavy box full of the rest of his belongings,
and Iolaus nodded and picked up the box full of CDs before he followed the
other boy back downstairs. Letting his mind wander like that was a bad idea
when he was around his best friend, at least when he still hadn’t told Hercules
the truth. Not that he expected to be around him much once Hercules moved in
with Gabbie, and he wasn’t sure whether to be happy or sad that his best friend
was moving on without him.
There were a lot of reasons to think of it as a good thing; for one, it meant
that maybe he wouldn’t have to tell Herc the truth after all, but at the same
time he didn’t really want to lose his best friend. He still had Strife, but
Strife had Cupid now and it just wasn’t the same as it was when it was just
Iolaus and Hercules. At least when his best friend was just sleeping around
Iolaus could pretend it was just the two of them, but now that he was moving in
with a girl and talking about a kid there was no room for Iolaus. Feeling sorry
for himself wasn’t going to do him any good, though, so he was just going to
have to find a way to deal with all the changes going on in his life.
~
“Xena seems happy,” Cupid said as he led Strife up the stairs to the loft above
the karate studio. They’d caught the train back to the city with Xena when they
figured out that Iolaus had taken his van and left without them, and Strife had
spent almost the entire train ride trying to get Xena to admit that something
had happened between her and Psyche. Cupid wasn’t convinced that anything had
happened, but even if it had Xena wasn’t talking. Not that he really blamed
her; after the way they’d all set up Auto and Iolaus he wasn’t sure any of
their friends would trust him with personal information again.
“She sure likes Psyche, anyway,” Strife answered as he followed Cupid into the
loft. As soon as they stepped inside they both stopped, looking around the room
at all the changes that had taken place already. There were paint cans sitting
on a drop cloth under the window, and at the center of the room was a couch
covered in a drop cloth. Cupid could tell before he even looked that it wasn’t
the couch he’d broken when he was a kid, though, and he dropped Strife’s hand
and crossed to the couch to pull the cover back.
“They bought us a couch?” he asked no one in particular, his eyebrows raised as
he took in the dark blue upholstery. “Why’d they buy us a couch?”
“Probably ‘cause the one that was in here was a piece a shit,” Strife reminded
him, grinning when Cupid glanced at the other boy. “Wanna try it out?”
Cupid returned his grin and let Strife pull him down onto the newly uncovered
upholstery, leaning forward to press their lips together as he pressed Strife
back against the couch. He knew there was a risk his father would come upstairs
and catch them making out on the couch, but he didn’t really think Ares would
mind. Besides, it was a pretty comfortable couch, and he liked the idea of
having brand-new furniture to start their new life together. At least this way
he wouldn’t have to wonder whether or not his dad and Joxer had ever had sex on
their upholstery.
As soon as the thought occurred to him he laughed against Strife's mouth and
pulled away, shaking his head when Strife raised his eyebrows. "Sorry, I was
just thinking…at least we know Dad and Joxer never fooled around on this
couch."
"How do we know fer sure? They picked it out, right? Maybe they gave it a test
run," Strife said, grinning at Cupid's disgusted expression.
"Way to ruin the moment," Cupid muttered. "Now I won't be able to sit on this
thing for a month."
Strife grinned even harder and pulled Cupid back down onto his lap, his arms
around the other boy's waist to hold him in place. "Yer the one that brought it
up," he reminded the younger boy. "Besides, ya know they're sleepin' together,
so what does it matter?"
"Just because I know it doesn't mean I like to think about it," Cupid said, but
he gave in to the grin that was threatening to form and let Strife pull him
closer. His arms slid around Strife's neck, fingers trailing through the hair
that brushed the older boy's collar. "Don't tell me you like to think about Dad
and Joxer doing it."
A startled laugh escaped Strife's throat, and it took him a minute to swallow
his surprise long enough to shake his head. "Thinkin' 'bout Unc's sex life
ain't really my idea a fun," he finally answered, his expression remarkably
similar to the disgusted expression Cupid had been wearing a few minutes ago.
"Speakin' a which, yer dad's gonna be up here any minute."
"So?" Cupid murmured, smiling at the mixture of longing and exasperation in
Strife's eyes as he leaned forward again. As soon as he fused their lips
together Strife forgot to worry about his father, and Cupid forgot all about
being grossed out at the thought of his father's sex life. All he could think
about was Strife's mouth moving against his, his hands on Cupid's hips and his
fingers flexing restlessly against the denim of his jeans. Neither of them
heard the door open, but when the sound of a throat clearing penetrated their
collective daze they pulled away from each other and cast guilty glances in the
direction of the sound.
"Aren't you two supposed to be painting?" Ares asked, raising an eyebrow as
Cupid stood up and hauled Strife off the couch.
"We were just…"
"I saw," Ares interrupted, rolling his eyes and crossing to the kitchen. "Pull
that drop cloth back down before you start painting or you'll ruin the couch
Joxer picked out for you."
"I can't believe you finally got rid of the old one," Cupid said as he helped
Strife pull the drop cloth back into place. "I mean we're grateful and
everything, but you've had that old couch since I can remember."
"And it's been broken since you got it into your head to try flying," Ares
answered, glancing over his shoulder long enough to smirk at his son. "The
sooner you get started on the painting the sooner this place will be ready for
you to move in. I'll help you when I'm done making lunch. Joxer should be up
any minute to help."
"Okay, okay, we get it," Cupid muttered. Strife was already busy stirring paint
when Cupid crossed the room, and even when Cupid knelt on the drop cloth next
to him the older boy didn't look up. He knew it was because Strife was
embarrassed that Ares had walked in on them, and he couldn't help laughing at
the intense expression on his boyfriend's face as Strife avoided looking at
him. "He doesn't really care, you know."
"That ain't the point," Strife said without looking up.
"Then what is?"
Strife let out a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes, finally stealing a quick
glance at Cupid. "Nothin'…it's just…he's yer dad, Cupe."
"So? I mean we were just kissing, it's not like he caught us having sex on
video or anything." Cupid tried and failed to suppress a smirk when Strife
glared at him. They'd all promised not to tell anyone about watching Auto and
Iolaus on Psyche's dad's security camera, but it was hard just to forget about
it. "Besides, we're moving in together. I'm guessing he already knows we're
sleeping together."
"Real funny." Strife scowled and looked back down at the paint, stirring it a
few more times before he looked up at Cupid again. "Ya know how ya don't like
thinkin' 'bout Dad and Unc? Well I don't like thinkin' 'bout them thinkin'
'bout us."
Cupid opened his mouth and then closed it again, turning the logic over in his
mind as he tried to make sense of what Strife had just said. In a weird way he
could sort of understand; he knew Strife worried a lot about what Ares thought
of him, and he probably didn't want to give Cupid's father anything to hold
against him. Instead of answering he reached over and rested his hand on
Strife's knee, giving it a quick squeeze before he pulled away again. When
Strife looked up at him he grinned and gestured toward the paint. "So are you
gonna show me how this works or what?"
"Don't tell me ya never painted a wall before."
"Well Mom turned the house into a giant cotton candy factory before I was old
enough to be trusted around her furniture. She hasn't changed the color since,
and you can see that Dad hasn't really bothered keeping this place up."
He smiled when Strife rolled his eyes and reached for the paint tray and a
roller. "Fine, I'll show ya. Guess there's a first time fer everythin'," he
said as he stood up. Cupid could tell he was trying to sound annoyed, but he
didn't quite manage to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He'd
experienced a lot of firsts in the two months that he'd known Strife, and he
had a feeling Strife was looking forward to more just as much as Cupid was.

                            Part Thirty-Nine – Home
"Geez, Cupe, I swear you've got more stuff than me," Psyche said between gasps
for breath as she dropped the last box of Cupid's belongings on the couch.
"Hey, hey, watch the upholstery," Auto called from behind her. "You know how
weird he is about his new couch."
"I'm not weird about it," Cupid shot back, but his frown betrayed him as he
crossed the room and lifted the box off the couch. "This stuff goes in the
bedroom."
"In that case I'm glad I didn't look in the box." Psyche smirked when Cupid
glared at her. "Aw, come on, Cupe, just because I don't want to look at your
sex toys doesn't mean I don't love you."
Auto and Psyche both laughed at the sound of a grumbled 'hilarious' from the
direction of the bedroom. They'd spent the entire day helping Cupid move his
things from his mother's house to the loft, and both of them had gotten in as
many jokes at Cupid's expense as they could think of. Psyche knew Cupid didn't
really mind; at least she hoped he didn't, but he had to have expected it when
he asked them to help.
In a way she was glad they'd gotten the chance to spend the day together,
though, because she wasn't sure how many more times it was going to happen.
They still had the summer before she went off to college, but Cupid would be
all moved into his new place before long and then it would be just her and Auto
again. And that was a problem all on its own, because she'd been worrying about
him since he spent the night with Iolaus. He hadn't really said much of
anything about it since he left her house the morning after the party, but she
had the feeling it wasn't exactly the love connection Cupid had been hoping it
would be.
She hadn't figured out yet whether that bothered Auto or not; between
graduation and helping Cupid they hadn't had much of a chance to talk in the
past week, and every time she'd tried to bring it up he'd found a way to change
the subject. Normally she'd think that meant he just wasn't interested, but
something about the look in his eyes every time she mentioned Iolaus' name made
her wonder. What was even weirder was that Cupid had told her Iolaus was
avoiding Strife completely. The whole situation made her wonder what exactly
had happened in that room after they turned the monitors off, but so far she
hadn't been able to get a straight answer out of Auto.
When Cupid reappeared she shook her head to chase away the memory of watching
Auto and Iolaus. The last thing she needed was to slip and let on that they'd
all watched; she didn't think Auto would be that mad, but she had no idea how
Iolaus would feel. The chances of Auto getting a chance to fill him in were
getting worse, though, and she couldn't help being a little disappointed that
it hadn't gone the way Cupid had expected it to.
"So can you guys hang out for awhile?" Cupid asked. "Strife's gonna be here
soon, we can order pizza or something."
"So Strife shows up just in time to miss out on doing the hard work, huh?" Auto
said, shrugging when Psyche shot him a look that told him to shut up. "What?
He's probably gonna be kinda pissed when he gets here and sees there's no space
for any of his stuff."
"Strife doesn't have any stuff," Cupid said. "I'm pretty sure the furniture
came with their apartment, so all he's got is some clothes. They drove out here
in Iolaus' van, after they got the band's equipment in there they couldn't fit
much else."
Psyche stole a glance at Auto when Cupid mentioned Iolaus, but if the name
bothered him he didn't let it show. In fact he didn't react at all, not even to
smile at the memory of what he'd told her was a pretty good night. She'd
assumed that he at least enjoyed himself with Iolaus, but now she wasn't so
sure he'd been telling her the truth. She didn't realize she was still staring
at him until he glanced over at her, frowning at her intense expression.
"What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing," she answered automatically, shaking herself and turning toward Cupid
again. "I wish I could stay, Cupe, but I gotta get back. Xena's coming over
tonight."
"Oh yeah?"
She rolled her eyes at the hopeful expression on Cupid's face. "Save it, we're
just friends. Not even, I barely know her."
"Right, that's why you're on the phone with her every time I call you lately,"
Auto interjected.
"That only happened twice," Psyche reminded him, but she didn't quite manage to
hide the smirk turning up the corners of her mouth. She'd talked to Xena a few
times since the party, but neither of them needed to know that. In fact, the
less they knew about her and Xena the better, because the last thing she needed
was for her cheering section to push too hard and accidentally ruin everything.
She was grateful that Auto seemed okay with the fact that she was sort of
seeing someone new, but she didn't need him or Cupid – especially Cupid –
trying to help.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupted whatever Cupid was about to
say, and she sent a silent prayer of thanks up for Strife's excellent timing.
Cupid forgot all about her budding friendship with Xena when the door opened,
and she smiled as his whole face lit up at the sight of his boyfriend. He still
hadn't lost that shy smile where Strife was concerned, and Psyche found herself
hoping he never would. As far as she was concerned Strife and Cupid were the
perfect couple, and as long as they stayed together she could still have faith
that she'd find the right person someday.
Not that she'd ever say that out loud; her friends would just laugh at her for
being such a girl, for one thing, and she didn't want to make Cupid self-
conscious about his relationship. That didn't stop her from enjoying the sight
of Strife's hand on the back of Cupid's neck, though, or the way Cupid's arms
tightened around the other boy's waist as though he'd been anticipating this
moment all day long. For a long moment it seemed as though they'd both
forgotten there were other people in the room, but before she decided to clear
her throat Strife pulled away and glanced over at her and Auto.
"Hey," he said, his gaze falling on Auto and his shoulders tensing so
imperceptibly that Psyche was sure no one else had even noticed. "You guys
stayin'? Dropkick Murphys are in town, I can probably get yer names on the list
if I call the club now."
"Psyche's got a date," Cupid supplied for her, grinning over Strife's shoulder
when she glared at him.
"It's not a date." She could tell from Strife's grin that he already knew who
her 'date' was with, and she hoped her cheeks weren't as red as they felt.
"Guess that's why Xena can't make it either."
"Guess so. Auto, you coming or am I catching the train?" she asked, ignoring
the questions she knew Cupid was dying to ask about what she was planning to do
with her evening.
"Nah, I better get home," Auto answered, stealing a quick glance at Cupid
before he turned back to Psyche. Things between them were a lot better than
they had been when Cupid first met Strife, but it was easy to see that Auto
still felt a little weird around them. Not that she could really blame him,
especially since going to the show meant playing third wheel. She knew how much
he liked the band they were going to see, though, so she was a little surprised
to hear him pass up a free ticket.
"Ya sure?" Strife asked, surprising both of them into looking over at him
again. She could tell that their surprise showed on their faces when Strife
blinked and glanced at Cupid before continuing. "I mean it's not like ya'd be
crashin' or anythin'. Iolaus'll probably show, Herc's workin' the door at the
club and wherever he goes Iolaus usually shows up."
Psyche saw Auto wince out of the corner of her eye, the split-second gesture
answering every question she'd had about his feelings for Iolaus. She wasn't
sure if Strife meant what it sounded like he meant, but obviously Auto had
taken it that way. It made sense that Iolaus would have a thing for his best
friend; they were together all the time, and even if it was hopeless he
probably couldn't help being attracted to Hercules. That didn't exactly make
things easy for anybody else that might be interested, though, and Psyche
couldn't help wondering if Auto and Iolaus had already had that conversation.
"Thanks, but I gotta get my old man's truck back before he notices it's gone.
We'll see you guys around," Auto said, taking a few steps toward the door.
Psyche met Cupid's gaze and shrugged in answer to the question he hadn't said
out loud, closing the distance between them and leaning up to plant a quick
kiss on his cheek.
"I'll talk to him," she whispered, giving Cupid a reassuring smile. "Call me."
"You can count on it," Cupid whispered back, wrapping his arms around her for a
quick hug before he let her go again. "Thanks for coming today."
"No problem."
She matched his grin with one of her own, waving to Strife before she crossed
the living room to follow Auto out of the apartment. When they were gone Cupid
turned to Strife again, pulling the older boy close and fusing their lips
together for the kiss he'd been waiting for all day. Since the first moment
Strife agreed to move in with him all Cupid had been able to think about was
the first night they'd finally be able to fall asleep in their bed – and he'd
never get used to saying that – and now that the day had finally arrived he
could hardly wait for it to be over just so they could lock their door and
forget about the rest of the world.
"So we're going out?" he whispered when they finally came up for air, his mouth
moving across the softness of Strife's neck.
"We don't hafta," Strife answered, his breath tickling Cupid's ear as his hand
left the younger boy's neck to trail through blond hair. "The band came inta
the club ta practice while we were auditionin' replacements fer Herc. I didn't
think they'd remember us, but they offered ta put us on the list."
"Wait." Cupid tensed and straightened up far enough to meet Strife's gaze, his
eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You know the Dropkick Murphys?"
"Sure. We played with 'em at one a the punk fests in Detroit a couple a summers
ago. We sucked pretty bad then, they probably remembered who we were 'cause
everybody at that show was laughin' at us."
Cupid smiled at the image of their band being the butt of all the other bands'
jokes; he couldn't imagine them being bad enough for other bands to make fun of
them, but he knew he was more than a little biased where Strife was concerned.
Besides, as much as he loved watching Strife perform, even Cupid had to admit
that he was a better pianist than he was a singer. "You should've told Auto you
know them, if he thought he'd get a chance to meet them he definitely would
have gone to the show."
"Yeah? He a big fan?"
"They're one of his favorite bands. I'm surprised he didn't want to go just to
see the show. It's not like he gets a lot of chances to see them," Cupid
answered, his smile fading at the thought of his friend's strange behavior.
Auto had been acting a little weird all week at school, but Cupid had been too
excited about moving to the city to give it much thought. When he did notice
he'd told himself it was just graduation jitters, but now that they were done
with school Auto was still acting weird. "Do you think it had something to do
with you mentioning Iolaus?"
"I dunno, I haven't seen Iolaus much. It's like he's avoidin' everybody."
"But you saw him today, right? I mean he had to show up for auditions."
"Yeah, he was there," Strife said, his arms tightening around Cupid as the
younger boy backed them toward the couch. "He didn't say much, though. It was
kinda like he didn't wanna be there but he didn't wanna tell us why. There's
somethin' up with him, I just can't figure out what."
"But you think it has something to do with Auto."
Strife shrugged and shifted on the couch until he was facing Cupid, a soft sigh
escaping his throat when he took in his boyfriend's miserable expression. "I
dunno what else could be buggin' him, Cupe. I mean he was okay 'til this whole
thing with Herc started, then we sprung Auto on him. It's a lot ta deal with,
and he doesn't wanna talk ta me about it. I don't even know what he's gonna do
about a place ta stay. I know he can't afford our place on his own."
"Wait. He doesn't have anywhere to stay?"
"Beats me. I tried ta ask him today, but he didn't wanna talk about it." Strife
frowned at the memory of that particular conversation; he could tell there was
more going on with Iolaus than he was saying, but no matter how hard he'd tried
he couldn't get his friend to talk. It was almost like he didn't want to be
around Strife or Xena, and if that was true Strife wasn't sure why they were
looking for a new guitarist. He knew Xena's heart wasn't really in the band,
and if Iolaus wanted out there was no way they were going to make it. "Maybe
he's crashin' with Herc an' Gabbie or somethin'. He doesn't hafta get outta our
place 'til the end a the month, anyway."
"Well if he needs a place to stay…I mean it's not the best arrangement, but he
could always crash here, at least for a little while."
Strife smiled and reached up to run his hand through Cupid's hair again. "Yeah,
I was gonna ask ya if havin' him around would bug ya. I dunno if he'd even go
fer it, though, considerin' he won't even talk ta me."
"Maybe he's just embarrassed that we all know about him and Auto."
"Yeah, maybe," Strife said, but Cupid could tell he didn't believe that. Cupid
wasn't sure he believed it either; it was one thing to be mad at them for
setting him up, but he had a feeling Iolaus was too worried about what happened
now to wonder what his friends thought. Sleeping with Auto was a huge step for
him, and he was probably having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that
he was at least bisexual. Maybe it would have been easier for him if Psyche had
been there too; maybe it would have been less intense or something, but Cupid
couldn't have asked Psyche to do that. Not that she would have done it even if
he'd asked her to, and anyway Iolaus had looked like he was having a pretty
good time when Cupid saw him on the security monitor.
"So we'll talk to him when he comes to the show," Cupid said, sounding a lot
more optimistic than he felt about the chances of Iolaus showing up. It was to
convince himself as much as to convince Strife, but he was rewarded by a grin
and a soft kiss pressed against the corner of his mouth.
"Ya sure ya wanna go out?" The words were whispered against his mouth, sending
a shiver of anticipation down his spine. A large part of Cupid was screaming at
him to say no, that he didn't want to go anywhere except to bed, preferably for
the next month or so. He couldn't ignore the tiny, rational voice in the back
of his mind telling him that this was all his fault, though, and in the end his
guilt over Iolaus won out.
He turned his head far enough to capture Strife's mouth, his hand on the back
of the older boy's neck to hold him in place while Cupid explored his mouth.
When he finally released Strife again he let out a small sigh, closing his eyes
and telling himself he was doing the right thing. "We should at least go for
awhile and see if he shows up," he finally said. "I mean you told him you'd be
there, right?"
"Yeah," Strife answered, his fingers tracing the curve of Cupid's throat as he
spoke, "but he won't care if we bail. I mean it's our first night here."
"The first of many," Cupid reminded him, his lips curving into a mischievous
grin when Strife looked up at him again. "We've got forever, right?"
"Yeah, Cupe," Strife answered, his expression turning serious at the hesitation
in the younger boy's voice. "I'm not goin' anywhere."
"Good. So we can spend a few hours getting Iolaus to tell us what his problem
is before we start on the rest of our lives." His smile returned, his heart
skipping a beat when Strife grinned back at him. "What?"
"Nothin'. I just can't believe I almost let ya get away," Strife said. "I mean
if I'd let ya leave that day after Iolaus walked in on us…"
Cupid leaned forward to cut Strife off with a kiss. "That never could have
happened," he said when he pulled away again. "You wouldn't have been able to
forget me."
"Ya think so?" Strife asked, raising one eyebrow as he struggled not to laugh
at Cupid's self-satisfied grin.
"I know it," Cupid answered, his voice softening as his smile faded into an
earnest expression. "You wouldn't have been able to forget any more than I
could have. I knew from the minute I saw you up on that stage that it would be
different between us."
He'd never told Strife any of that; the only person he'd really said it to was
Psyche, and he was never sure if she believed him or if she just didn't want to
be the one to tell him he was delusional. He knew he wasn't, though; he'd ended
up with Strife, after all, and they were in love. So the jolt of whatever that
feeling was when he first laid eyes on Strife meant exactly what he'd thought
it did, and he wasn't surprised that they were talking about the future just a
few months after they first met. Maybe it seemed fast to the rest of the world,
but considering Cupid had known before they even spoke he didn't think it was
too fast at all.
"I know what ya mean," Strife said, his voice so soft that it took a minute for
Cupid to realize that he'd even spoken.
"What?"
"I said I know what yer sayin'," he repeated, his cheeks a little more pink
than usual when Cupid lifted his head to meet his gaze. "When I first saw ya I
thought 'now that's the most beautiful guy I've ever seen', but once I got past
how gorgeous ya were I could tell there was somethin' different about ya. Like
I already knew ya, even though we'd never met."
And Cupid was sure he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't make himself
care. That was exactly what he'd always hoped Strife would say when they
finally got around to talking about the first time they'd laid eyes on each
other, but he hadn't let himself believe Strife had felt the same connection he
did from the first moment. He knew Strife felt it now, but he'd never really
expected to hear that his boyfriend had felt that way about him when he first
saw Cupid from the stage in a crowded night club.
"See? It would have worked out no matter what," Cupid said, swallowing against
the tightness in his throat as he leaned forward to meet Strife halfway. His
arms slid around the older boy's shoulders, pulling him instinctively closer as
Strife explored his mouth. The kiss felt exactly the way it always did; like
he'd finally found his way home.

                        Part Forty – Longing and Regret
Auto contemplated trying to ditch Psyche on the way back to the truck; if
they'd taken the train home it would have been easy to lose her, but he
couldn't bring himself to strand her in the middle of the city. Not that she
couldn't get home on her own, but he knew if he left her there he'd hear about
it for at least the next month. That didn't mean he was looking forward to the
ride home, though, especially when he knew she was dying to ask him why he'd
turned down Strife's invitation to the show. She waited until they were safely
on the freeway before she started in on him, turning to look at him as soon as
they pulled onto the onramp.
"So what's the deal?" she said, keeping her expression carefully neutral as she
studied Auto's profile. "I mean there's no way you'd borrow your dad's truck if
he was in town, so there must be some other reason you didn't want to stay for
the show."
Auto gave her a long, hard look before he turned back to the road. "Two
reasons, actually. Their names are Cupid and Strife."
"Oh, come on, I thought you were over that," she said, rolling her eyes at his
answer. "Besides, you'd chew glass for a chance to see Dropkick Murphys. Don't
try to tell me you'd turn that down just because Cupid and Strife are gonna be
there."
"Look, I can't go, alright? It's no big deal," he answered. "Besides, if I
wanna see Dropkick Murphys I can just go to Boston. They play there all the
time."
"Right, and you hang out in Boston all the time."
"I might." He rolled his eyes at the petulant quality of his own voice,
ignoring the unflattering snort that escaped Psyche's throat. He knew she'd
already figured out exactly why he didn't want to go to the show, but he didn't
want to talk about it. As long as neither of them said it out loud he didn't
have to feel weird about it, but the second she let on that she felt sorry for
him he wouldn't be able to forget. And he really, really wanted to forget,
because there was no use dwelling on something that was never going to happen.
The truth was that he just didn't want to see Iolaus. It would be too awkward,
and Auto didn't do awkward. Then again, he'd never actually wanted to see
somebody again after sleeping with them – nobody except Psyche, anyway – and he
wasn't sure what it meant. He'd tried telling himself that it was just because
everybody he knew had suddenly gone crazy; if he wasn't around people talking
about love and all that romantic shit all the time he wouldn't be acting like
such a girl. He was getting as bad as Cupid, and if anybody back home found out
about it he'd never live it down.
He didn't even know the guy, so there was no reason to keep thinking about him.
It was just one night of passable sex – okay, maybe it was a little better than
passable – and he'd never let sex affect him this way before. He wasn't letting
it affect him now, either, and if his friends would just shut up about it he'd
stand a chance of putting it behind him. Not that he'd seen much of Cupid, but
he could tell during the few times they'd talked at school that his friend was
trying to hint around about what Auto thought of Iolaus. He'd considered saying
something obnoxious about what Iolaus was like in bed just to embarrass Cupid,
but when it came right down to it he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
It had felt too much like he'd be betraying Iolaus, which was ridiculous
considering they didn't even know each other. He'd never had a problem talking
about his conquests before, but for some reason he wanted to keep this one to
himself. Maybe it was because it was the first time he'd ever been alone with
anyone besides Psyche. Or maybe it was just a knee-jerk reaction to the fact
that everybody already knew about the whole thing. It wasn't so much that he
cared who knew, but the fact that they expected him to spill all the details
kind of bothered him.
Besides, this was all new for Iolaus, and he had a right to keep it to himself
if he wanted to. Which meant Auto couldn't go around telling everybody what
happened, and Psyche and Cupid were just going to have to deal with it.
"It's okay if you like him, you know."
Psyche's voice sounded louder than it should in the silence of the truck, and
Auto found himself wishing not for the first time that the radio worked so he
wouldn't have to listen to her try to get him to admit to something that wasn't
even true. "I don't."
"Auto, come on. You've been moping around since last weekend. If it's not him,
what's the problem?"
"I keep telling you, there's no problem." He let out a weary sigh and ventured
a quick glance at her, his eyes narrowing when he registered the pity in her
expression. "Look, I haven't been moping around, okay? And even if I did like
him, it doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters," Psyche said. She scooted a little closer on the bench
seat and leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder and twisting her
neck so she could look up at him. "If you like him you should do something
about it. Ask him out or something. The worst that could happen is he says no,
right?"
"It's not that easy." He rolled his eyes at himself when he realized he was
playing right into her hands; he'd already as good as admitted that he was
still thinking about Iolaus, and if he let her think he actually cared about
the guy he could forget ever hearing the end of it. "I mean yeah, okay, we had
a good time and all, but he's still in the closet. His best friend's a
homophobe, and until a few days ago he wouldn't even admit he was attracted to
guys. Why would I want somebody like that around?"
"Beats me," she said, grinning when he glanced down at her. "You do, though, so
there must be something about him you like."
He laughed and shrugged the shoulder she was leaning against, but instead of
knocking her off his arm he only managed to let her nestle a little closer.
"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"
"Can't. I'm your best friend, it's my job to harass you 'til you do something
about it."
"There's nothing to do…I mean…oh, you know what I mean." He paused to take a
deep breath, venturing a quick glance at her only to find her still watching
him expectantly. "It was a great party, everybody got what they wanted, and
it's over now, right? So what's the point of hanging out with him? I don't want
to see him again and he sure as hell doesn't wanna see me, so just let him
figure it out on his own."
"Maybe he could use a friend to help him figure it out."
"He's got friends."
"You said it yourself, his best friend's a homophobe. Cupe already said he's
not talking to Strife…"
"What are you guys doing, holding a conference?" he interrupted, looking over
at her when she sighed and lifted her head off his shoulder. "I can't believe
you don't have anything better to talk about."
"What, we can't worry about you now? I know we shouldn't have set you up like
that, but it seemed like you had a pretty good time with the guy. Cupe was
kinda hoping…well, you know. He thought maybe you guys would hit it off the way
he and Strife did. We just want you to be happy."
"Now you sound like Cupid's mom," he grumbled. The sound of her laughter
weakened his resolve a little, and he found himself smiling in spite of his
mood. "I know why you guys set us up. At least I think I do. But Cupe's gotta
understand that it's not that easy for everybody. Just because he fucked Strife
and then decided he was in love doesn't mean every one-night stand's gonna turn
out the same way."
"Yeah, I know," she said, and he was almost sure he heard disappointment in her
voice. It didn't make any sense that Psyche would think he'd fall head over
heels for Iolaus after one night, though, so he wasn’t sure exactly what she
was so disappointed about. "You know how Cupe's brain works, though. He's
probably just worried that Iolaus is gonna get left behind and he thinks it's
his fault."
"Cupe worries too much." It was true; but that didn't make Auto feel any better
about the thought of Iolaus getting left behind while all his friends moved on
with their lives. He knew how that felt, after all, and even though he wouldn't
admit it he wasn't looking forward to the day when Psyche moved to the city.
"He's still got that homophobe hanging around, though…what's that guy's name
again?"
"Hercules. And he's not hanging around either. Didn't I tell you? He knocked up
that girl from the club, he's moving into her parents' basement with her."
"Talk about depressing," Auto muttered, focusing on the road so Psyche wouldn't
notice his expression. He didn't want to worry about Iolaus; he didn't even
want to feel sorry for the guy, but he couldn't help it. There was nothing
worse than being stuck in the same place while all his friends moved away and
got lives, and it sounded like the same thing was happening to Iolaus. "So
Iolaus gets stuck with that rathole they've been living in?"
"Beats me." He could feel her eyes on him, but he didn't look over because he
was pretty sure he didn't want to know what she was thinking. He wasn't going
to get involved in whatever little drama she and Cupid had come up with to
amuse themselves; he had plans for the future, and even if they weren't as
glamorous as anybody else's he wasn't going to let that stop him. There was no
way he was spending the rest of his life stuck in Neptune, and he wasn't about
to let Iolaus or anybody else distract him from his plans.
~
Iolaus wasn't sure exactly how he was supposed to feel, but he was pretty sure
this wasn't it. Wasn't he supposed to feel at least a little different? His
whole life had changed last weekend – okay, so aside from that one night
everything was pretty much still the same, but it was going to change any
minute now. It had to, right? He'd finally come to grips with something he'd
been avoiding about himself for years now, there was no way that everything
could just stay the same.
He felt like there was something he should do, something to make it official or
something. For the life of him he couldn't figure out what, though; if sleeping
with another guy didn't make it official he wasn't sure what could. A nagging
voice in the back of his head piped up every once in awhile to remind him that
telling people might help make it feel more real, but he wasn't ready to take
that step yet. There was too much going on; with Herc, with Strife and Cupid
moving in together, with his own family back home. There was always some excuse
to stop him from coming clean to the people that it would affect the most.
Strife and Cupid already knew, but he couldn't talk to them about this. It
would be way too embarrassing to go to either of them for advice, and he knew
whichever one of them he talked to would automatically fill the other one in on
everything he said. He'd thought about talking to Xena; called her even, but
she was out and her mother didn't seem to know when she'd be back. So he'd
showed up at the club hoping that she'd be there, that maybe he could talk to
her about what he should be doing differently now that he was…whatever the hell
he was.
He sipped his beer and searched the crowd, hoping to spot Xena before any of
their friends spotted him. The last thing he needed to do was listen to Herc
bitch about life with Gabbie, or worse, have to watch Cupid and Strife slobber
all over each other. He'd already promised himself that if Xena didn't show up
by the time he finished his beer that he'd bail; going home to stare at the
walls in his empty apartment had to be better than acting like everything was
okay so nobody would figure out what was on his mind.
The glass on his table was half empty when he spotted them, and he swore under
his breath and drained it before he stood up. He might have managed to get out
of the club before either of them spotted him if the waitress hadn't chosen
that moment to come by, blocking his path as she set drinks down on the table
next to his. He was seriously contemplating just shoving her out of the way
when Cupid spotted him, and Iolaus swallowed a groan and managed a weak wave as
Cupid grabbed Strife's arm and pulled the other boy toward Iolaus' table.
"Hey," Cupid said when they reached him, "we weren’t sure you'd show."
"Yeah, neither was I," Iolaus answered, his heart sinking as he realized he
wasn't getting out of the club without coming up with a better excuse than 'I
just remembered I hate this band'. "I was just gonna get another beer. You guys
want anything?"
"I got it," Strife offered, backing away from the table before Iolaus could
argue. He watched helplessly as Strife walked away, sinking back into his chair
and sparing a quick glance at Cupid.
"Have you guys seen Xena?"
"She can't make it," Cupid answered, leaning forward to fold his arms on the
table. "She's got a date with Psyche. We tried to get Auto to come with us, but
he had to get home."
And it just figured that Xena would pick the one night he actually wanted to
talk to her to go out with Psyche. Not that he could really blame her, but he
couldn't help being a little annoyed that he was stuck sitting through the show
with Cupid and Strife for nothing. He knew he should be grateful that they
hadn't showed up with Auto in tow; that would be awkward, and with Hercules
working the door it would have been even worse. He wasn’t sure how he'd feel
about seeing Auto again, but he knew he didn't want the first time to be in
front of his best friend.
"Too bad," he answered distractedly. "Listen, you don't happen to know where
Xena and Psyche went, do you?"
"I think they're hanging out at Psyche's house," Cupid answered, frowning as he
watched Iolaus shift nervously in his chair. "Are you okay?"
"What? Yeah, I'm fine," Iolaus answered, stopping just short of rolling his
eyes at himself. He was supposed to be acting like nothing was wrong, not like
he was waiting for the first chance he got to make a break for it. "I just need
to talk to Xena about something."
"Look, Iolaus, I understand if you're mad at me."
He'd only been half-listening to Cupid since the other boy sat down, but his
last words were so far from what Iolaus had expected that he forgot about
glancing at the door every three seconds and looked over at the other boy. "Why
the fuck would I be mad at you?"
"Because of Auto. I mean it was my idea. I was just trying to help, I thought
you guys would hit it off, you know? Be good for each other. I guess I was
wrong."
Cupid looked so miserable that Iolaus instantly felt guilty for trying to avoid
him and Strife all week. He wasn't sure what to say; he'd assumed that Xena and
maybe Strife had been in on the plan to set them up, but it had never dawned on
him that it had all been Cupid's idea. If anything he'd assumed that Psyche was
the one that came up with the plan and gotten his friends to go along with it.
"Why? I mean why'd you set us up? You barely even know me."
"I knew enough to see that you weren't happy. I mean it was pretty obvious you
had a thing for Herc, and I figured if you met somebody else maybe it would
help you get over it. I'm really sorry, I should have just asked you in the
first place."
"I don't have a thing for Herc." Denying the truth was second nature by now,
but for the first time since he'd started lying about his feelings for his best
friend he felt a twinge of guilt. "Look, Cupid, I'm not mad. I mean I guess in
a way I should be grateful. I know what you were trying to do, but it was just
one night."
"Sometimes that's all it takes," Cupid said, a hopeful smile turning up the
corners of his mouth. "I'm not saying you have to fall in love with him or
anything…"
Iolaus rolled his eyes because he could tell that that was exactly what Cupid
had been hoping for. He could deny it all he wanted, but it was obvious that
Cupid had been hoping to pair off all his friends until everyone was as
disgustingly infatuated as he and Strife were. "Auto's a good kid," he said,
lowering his voice and glancing around to make sure no one was listening, "but
that's as far as it goes. He's just a kid, Cupid."
"I remember hearing that same line from Strife a couple months ago when he was
still trying to tell himself the band came before everything else." Cupid
raised one eyebrow, watching as Iolaus scowled and looked away.
"Yeah, well, I'm older than Strife."
"By one year. Big deal." A heavy sigh escaped Cupid's throat as he leaned back
in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "If you don't like him that's
fine, but don't give me that age excuse. I'm not buying it and neither is
anybody else."
And now he knew why Strife was moving in with Cupid, because he had the sudden
urge to apologize to the other boy and he wasn't even sure what he'd be
apologizing for. Strife probably never stood a chance, not when Cupid looked at
him with those big brown eyes and that pout he probably practiced in the mirror
every night. He wasn't even sure why it was any of Cupid's business, especially
considering Auto hadn't said a word to him since the morning after the party.
If he was interested he would have called or something, it wasn't like he
couldn't get the number from Cupid.
"Did he say something about me?"
Before Cupid could answer a beer appeared in front of him, and they both looked
up in time to watch Strife sink into the chair next to Cupid and push another
beer toward the younger boy. "What's goin' on?"
"Nothing," Cupid and Iolaus answered simultaneously. He knew Cupid would fill
Strife in on their entire conversation later, but he couldn't bring himself to
care. All he really wanted to do right now was go home and forget tonight had
ever happened. He'd started out confused enough, but after talking to Cupid the
past week made even less sense. And the worst part was that now he felt guilty
for sleeping with Auto in the first place, and he knew he was going to spend
the rest of the night wondering what he'd done wrong. None of it made any
sense; he didn't know the rules for this sort of thing, and he had a feeling it
was just going to get more confusing.

                     Part Forty-One – What Friends Are For
It was obvious from the silence hanging over the table that Strife had
interrupted something, but he was going to have to wait to find out what it
was. For some reason Cupid and Iolaus weren't talking, at least not to him, and
even though he had a feeling he knew what they'd been talking about that didn't
really make him feel any better. There was no reason they had to shut up just
because he'd come back from the bar; he was involved in this whole mess too –
whether he liked it or not – and whatever they had to say about Auto they could
say in front of him.
He was trying not to be jealous, but it was hard to keep his emotions in check
where Cupid was concerned. Not that he thought Cupid had anything to hide from
him, but he obviously didn't want to talk about whatever he'd been talking
about in front of Strife. And then there was Iolaus – they'd known each other
since they were kids, and suddenly Iolaus was confiding in Cupid instead of
him? None of it made any sense, and he was starting to feel like the third
wheel with his own boyfriend.
To make matters worse he had the feeling Iolaus didn't even want to be sitting
there, and he couldn't help wondering why the other boy had shown up at the
club at all. It was obvious he wasn't looking forward to the show, so there was
no reason for him to hang around unless he was hoping for a chance to hang all
over Hercules. Unconsciously Strife's gaze shifted in the direction of the
door, but he couldn't see his former roommate through the crowd. Herc had
barely acknowledged them when they'd stopped at the door, and Strife could tell
that his friend wasn't in any hurry to put the past behind them and make up.
What he didn't get was why Iolaus wanted to hang out with a guy like that,
especially after the way Hercules had treated him and Cupid. He'd always
ignored it in the past because he knew things back home were different, but now
that they were in New York Strife didn't have to worry about his family or his
friends hassling him about who he dated. At least that was what he'd assumed,
but Hercules had turned out to be a lot less tolerant than he'd thought. That
was the only reason Strife could come up with for the way things were between
them now that he and Cupid were a couple, and he couldn't help worrying about
what was going to happen when Iolaus finally came out to his best friend.
The whole situation made him feel even more guilty about leaving Iolaus with
nowhere to live. The worst part was that he hadn't even bothered to ask the
other boy yet what he was planning to do, and now it was going to sound like
pity when he offered their couch as a place to crash. Still, he had to ask, and
if they weren't going to tell him what they'd been talking about before he came
back then at least he could change the subject.
"So what're ya plannin' ta do at the end a the month?" Strife asked, leaning
toward Iolaus and raising his voice over the noise of the crowd. "Ya found a
place ta crash yet?"
Iolaus looked up at the sound of Strife's voice, frowning as though he was just
remembering that he wasn't alone at the table. "I don't know yet," he answered,
not quite meeting Strife's gaze. "I thought about going home."
"What, back ta Detroit? Are ya nuts? It took us long enough ta get outta there,
why the fuck would ya go back?"
"At least I know I'd have a job waiting for me." Iolaus shrugged and looked up
at the stage, watching the band set up. Strife followed his gaze for a moment,
frowning at the thought of his friend going home just because Hercules had
moved in with some girl.
"Yeah, some job. Pumpin' gas at yer old man's place. What about the band?"
"What about it?" Iolaus looked over at him again, his expression unreadable in
the low light of the bar. "That was Herc's thing and you know it. In a couple
months Xena's gonna be back in school, and then we'll play a gig every couple
weeks if we're lucky. That's not gonna pay the rent, and not everybody's got a
boyfriend whose daddy just hands over the keys to an apartment."
Strife hadn't expected that reaction; all he'd really been trying to do was
remind Iolaus of why they'd left Detroit in the first place, but he couldn't
really blame his friend for being mad. "We're payin' rent on the loft," he
answered, dropping his voice so Cupid wouldn't hear him. "Ya think I'd just
shack up with somebody an' let 'em pay my way? Ya know me better than that."
A heavy sigh escaped Iolaus' throat, and Strife saw a flicker of guilt in the
other boy's eyes before Iolaus looked away again. "Yeah, I know. I didn't mean
it, Strife. But I still need a job and I need to find a place to stay. I doubt
I can even afford the rent on our place by myself. This isn't exactly what I
thought it would be like when we decided to move out here, you know?"
"Yeah, I know," Strife said, forcing what he hoped was a cheerful grin and
raising his voice again. "Listen, until ya work it out yer crashin' with us,
okay? The couch is comfortable an' there's plenty a room."
"Thanks, Strife, but I couldn't do that. You guys just moved in together, I'd
just be in the way."
"No ya wouldn't," Strife insisted, reaching across the table and nudging
Cupid's arm to get his attention. "Yer cool with Iolaus crashin' at our place,
aren't ya, Cupe?"
"Yeah, of course," Cupid answered, and Strife found himself relaxing a little
as he watched a genuine smile light up Cupid's features. Whatever he'd been
arguing with Iolaus about earlier couldn't have been that serious, not if Cupid
was still willing to let the other boy sleep on their couch. "As long as you
want."
"Thanks, guys," Iolaus said, "but I'll work it out."
Strife nodded and picked up his beer, catching Cupid's gaze out of the corner
of his eye and shrugging. He felt a hand land on his knee and squeeze briefly
before letting go again, and he found himself wishing that they'd just stayed
home tonight after all. In a way he was glad he'd had a chance to talk to
Iolaus, but he wasn't sure how much good it had done. If his friend was
determined to go home and ignore everything that had happened to him in the
past few months Strife couldn't stop him, but he hoped that Iolaus would come
to his senses before that happened.
"Have ya talked ta Herc lately?" Strife asked, hoping he sounded more casual
than he felt as he stole a quick glance at Iolaus.
"About what?"
Strife shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, stealing a quick glance at Cupid
before he looked at Iolaus again. "About anythin'. He know yer thinkin' 'bout
goin' home?"
"No," Iolaus answered, his eyes narrowing a little as he glanced at Cupid and
then back at Strife. "Look, guys, I know what you're getting at. No, I haven't
told him anything, but it doesn't have anything to do with whether or not I go
back to Detroit. Herc's got a lot on his mind lately, he just moved in with
Gabbie and the baby thing's freaking him out more than I thought it would. He's
got enough to deal with without me laying my problems on him. I'll work it out,
don't worry about it."
"Yeah, but goin' home?"
"Strife's right," Cupid added, making it obvious he'd been listening to their
conversation since Strife got back to the table. "You can't go home just
because Hercules moved in with Gabbie. You can get a job here just as easily as
you can in Detroit, and there are always people looking for roommates. Psyche's
moving to the city soon, if you want I can talk to her, maybe…"
"No thanks," Iolaus interrupted, and Strife was almost sure he saw the other
boy's cheeks flush just before he looked away. "Psyche's cool and all, but the
last thing she needs is me hanging around."
"She wouldn't care," Cupid began, but he closed his mouth as soon as he felt
Strife's hand close around his under the table. Strife glanced sharply at the
younger boy, relaxing a little when he saw that Cupid understood what he wasn't
saying. It was one thing for Iolaus to crash with them until he found a place,
but staying with Psyche meant running into Auto a lot more often than he
probably wanted to. At least Strife assumed that Iolaus didn't want to see
Auto; he hadn't really gotten a chance to talk to his friend about it, and he
had a feeling now wasn't the right time to try.
"It'll work out," Strife said, squeezing Cupid's hand one last time before he
let go again. "Long as ya don't throw in the towel before ya even see what's
out there, ya know?"
He grinned when Iolaus looked up at him and nodded warily, hoping the flicker
of surprise in the other boy's eyes meant that Iolaus understood what he was
saying. He had a feeling that part of the reason his friend was thinking about
going back to Detroit was so he wouldn't have to deal with what had happened
between him and Auto, but Strife couldn't let him go back to pretending he was
something he wasn't. At least he had to try to help Iolaus figure it out for
himself, otherwise he couldn't really call himself much of a friend at all.
~
Iolaus woke to the sound of a shrill ringing, groaning and sticking one arm out
from under his sheet to feel around on the floor for the phone. Finally he
found it sticking out from under the jeans he'd discarded the night before,
clearing his throat before he pressed the 'talk' button and lifted the receiver
to his ear. "Hello?"
"Did I wake you?"
"Don't worry about it," he muttered, although Xena didn't sound exactly
apologetic. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken she was laughing, which meant that
he really must sound pathetic. "What time is it?"
"Around 11:00. My mom said you were looking for me last night. What's up?"
It took him a minute to remember why he'd called Xena, but as soon as he did he
groaned and pulled the sheet back over his head. He hadn't stopped to think
about it long enough to be embarrassed the night before, but if he had he never
would have gone looking for her. It was bad enough that he'd been desperate
enough to actually leave a message with her mom, but he couldn't talk about it
in the light of day. "Nothing, just a moment of weakness. Forget it."
"Aw, I'm flattered," she said, her voice taking on a teasing quality that made
heat creep into his cheeks, "but you know you're not really my type."
"Funny. That's not what I meant," he muttered. "Seriously, just forget it."
"Oh, come on, I was just kidding." She paused and for a moment he couldn't hear
anything except for the sound of his own breathing, but just as he'd decided
that they'd somehow gotten cut off her voice sounded in his ear again. "Iolaus?
Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." He rolled his eyes at the half-truth and pushed the sheet back
again, forcing himself to sit up and running a hand absently over his bare
chest. "I will be, anyway."
He could tell by the moment of silence on the other end of the line that she
didn't believe him, but he wasn't going to overplay his hand by trying to
convince her. Let her believe what she wanted; Cupid and Strife already did,
and there was no way he was going to convince any of them that he was fine
until he started acting like he was.
"Does this have anything to do with Auto?"
"No," he answered, ignoring the defensive tone that crept into his voice. "Why
does everybody keep asking me that?"
"Because you've been acting weird ever since Psyche's party," Xena answered
matter-of-factly. "You should call him. He likes you."
An unflattering snort escaped Iolaus' throat, but he ignored the sound and told
himself he didn't believe it. And even if he did it didn't matter, because he
wasn't interested in getting involved with some kid fresh out of high school.
Maybe the rest of his friends had lost their minds, but he wasn't going to do
something stupid just because they all were. "Whatever. Look, just forget I
called last night, okay? It was nothing."
"Iolaus, come on."
He couldn't help grinning as he pictured her arching one eyebrow at him, hands
crossed over her chest in her most menacing 'tell me or else' posture.
"Alright, alright. If you really wanna know, I had a question. But I ran into
Strife later so don't worry about it."
"What kind of question?"
"I just told you not to worry about it."
"I'm not worried, just curious. So tell me the question and Strife's answer so
I can tell you why he's wrong."
Iolaus rolled his eyes at that, but he knew he wasn't going to get out of this
with the half-truths he'd been feeding her since he answered the phone. He'd
never asked Strife any of the questions that had been weighing on him the night
before, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to ask Xena now. It helped that he
couldn't actually see her, though, and he closed his eyes and fell back against
the pillows again as he tried to think of the best way to phrase what he wanted
to ask.
"Okay. The thing is this. I don't really know…well, anything about – you know.
And after the party I think I might want to know, but I'm not sure how you find
out about that stuff. I mean is there some book I should be reading or what?"
He felt the blood begin to pool in his cheeks before he even started talking,
and by the time he was done with his rambling, nonsensical question even the
tips of his ears were burning. Still, he felt strangely better for having
gotten the words out, even if Xena didn't understand a bit of it.
"So let me get this straight. Are you asking me where you go to learn how to be
gay?"
A heavy sigh escaped his throat as he discovered that he could blush even
harder after all. "Sort of. I mean…I guess so. Maybe?"
Soft laughter on the other end of the line made him even more aware of the heat
creeping through his entire body, but there was a hint of understanding in
Xena's voice and part of him knew that if she was sitting next to him he would
have kissed her for not laughing him right out of the room. "There's no rule
book or anything," she finally answered, and he did his best to ignore the pity
he could hear creeping into her tone. "I mean there are places you can go to
meet people, if that's what you mean."
"What, like gay bars?"
"Well, yeah. I mean that's the most obvious place, right?"
He knew she was right, but that didn't mean he wanted to admit it. The last
thing he ever expected to find himself doing was contemplating going to a gay
bar, especially when he still hadn't told anyone that he was even considering
the possibility that he might be bi. So far everyone that knew had found out in
spite of his best efforts to keep the truth to himself, and he still wasn't
sure how he felt about that.
"Look, Iolaus," Xena said when he didn't answer, "if you want we can go out
this weekend. I know a few places, I don't hang out at them much but I know
some people. I can introduce you around."
"I don't know. I mean I'm not even sure if I'm gonna be staying in town," he
said, his heart sinking at the thought of actually going all the way back to
Detroit. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but if he didn't figure
something out quick that was exactly where he was headed.
"What are you talking about?"
"I've gotta be out of the apartment at the end of the month," he answered.
"Cupid and Strife offered to put me up, but I really don't wanna camp out on
their couch. I mean it's one thing for Cupid to stay here with Strife, but it's
their place now and I'd just be in the way."
"Why didn't you tell me this last week?" Xena asked. "Is that why you've been
so freaked out every time I see you lately? Jesus, Iolaus, I live right next
store to a boarding house. In fact I'm pretty sure they've got a room open
right now. I can find out if you want – it's not the Ritz or anything, but it's
cheaper than a whole apartment and the lady that runs the place is pretty
cool."
"Seriously?"
"Sure." He could hear the amusement creeping back into her voice, but he
resisted the urge to snap at her. She was the first person that had offered him
actual help, after all, and if he pissed her off he'd regret it later. "Tell
you what, come over and I'll introduce you to her. While you're here I'll talk
you into going out with me and Psyche this weekend."
For a second Iolaus was too stunned to answer. He'd dismissed the idea of even
talking to Psyche about sharing a place because he knew it would mean dealing
with a bunch of stuff he wasn't sure he was ready for, but renting a place
right next to Xena and her mom was a different story. It meant seeing a lot
more of Xena, but of all his friends she was the one he was the least worried
about facing right now. Plus it meant he didn't have to go home and face his
family, and there wasn't much he wouldn't do to avoid that. He'd even sleep on
Strife and Cupid's couch before he went back home and admitted to his father
that he couldn't hack New York, so this seemed like the perfect solution to his
problem.
"Let me just take a shower and I'll be over," he finally answered.
"Sure thing, Iolaus. I'll be here."
He could hear the smile in her voice and he couldn't help smiling back,
actually feeling the sentiment behind the expression for the first time in
days. "Thanks, Xena. See you soon."

                       Part Forty-Two – The Circle Game
Cupid knew there was no reason to be nervous about his father and Joxer coming
over for dinner. It was hard to turn off the feeling, though, especially when
he knew that his father still wasn't thrilled about the idea of him and Strife
living together. The only way he was going to make Ares see that they weren't
making a mistake was to make things work between him and Strife, though, so as
soon as they'd settled in he called and invited his father and Joxer over.
Strife hadn't been thrilled with the idea, but he was willing to go along with
it if it meant making Ares see that they weren't just screwing around. Granted,
a few weeks of living together wasn't going to convince Ares of much, but it
was a start, and if he saw how normal their life was he'd start to come around.
Then there was the other reason Strife had agreed to tonight, but Cupid was
trying as hard as he could not to think about that. He wasn't going to think
about whatever Strife and Joxer were talking about in the corner of the living
room, just like he wasn't worrying about his friends or wondering if Iolaus was
ever going to come out of the closet again.
A warm, strong hand landed on his shoulder, and he flinched slightly and looked
up to find his father studying his profile. "Son?"
"I'm fine, Dad," he said in answer to the unspoken question, smiling sheepishly
and turning back to the vegetables he'd been slicing for the salad.
"It's only a few days, you know."
"Yeah, I know." He stifled a sigh and stole another quick glance at Strife, his
heart skipping a beat when the older boy looked up and smiled at him. "Doesn't
it bother you at all?"
Ares shrugged and followed Cupid's gaze, a smile tugging at the corners of his
mouth when he took in the sight of Joxer and Strife talking quietly together.
"I miss him when he's gone, if that's what you mean. But it doesn't bother me
that he's going to visit his brother. Why, does the thought of Strife going to
see his father bother you?"
"It doesn't bother me exactly."
"Well something's obviously on your mind." Ares tore his gaze away from Joxer
to frown down at Cupid again, reaching around him to pull the knife out of his
hands. "Let me do that, you're liable to cut off a finger and then your mother
will never let me hear the end of it."
Cupid sighed but let his father push him gently out of the way, crossing his
arms over his chest and leaning back against the counter. "It's not that I
don't want Strife to see his dad. I do, it's just…what if he goes back there
and sees his friends again and doesn’t want to come back?"
"I thought all his friends moved here with him."
"Just Iolaus and Hercules, I'm sure he had other friends back in Detroit,"
Cupid answered.
"But Iolaus and Hercules are still here?"
"Iolaus thought about moving home for awhile, but then Xena found him a place
near her," Cupid said. "I don't think he really wanted to go back, but I don’t
know. None of them ever really talk about what it was like back there."
"Well that should tell you something," his father said, glancing at Cupid long
enough to raise an eyebrow at him. "If Strife doesn't talk about it there must
not be much he misses about it. Besides, he's got his friends here, and his
cousin and his uncle, and then there's you. I'd say you don't have anything to
worry about."
"But what if he just doesn't realize how much he misses it?" Cupid asked, his
gaze wandering back to Strife again. He'd told himself he wasn't going to spend
the whole night staring at his boyfriend, but he couldn't stop himself from
making sure Strife was still there. He was going to be gone soon enough, and
then Cupid would spend the rest of the week driving himself crazy wondering
what Strife was doing every minute of the day.
A soft laugh startled him out of his reverie, and he scowled as he looked up to
find his father shaking his head. "Cupid, they don't leave until Monday. If you
keep this up you'll drive both of you crazy before he even makes it to the
airport."
"What was it like the first time Joxer went away?"
Ares laughed for a different reason this time, the sound much more self-
conscious than it had been a few moments ago. "You mean you don't remember? You
were right here for part of it."
Cupid frowned in concentration, thinking back to the weeks he'd spent with his
father over the past few summers. "Was that the week we never did anything
because you were on the phone for hours every night?"
"Well I think that's a bit of an exaggeration, but it went something like
that."
"You guys moved in together right after he got back, didn't you?"
Ares nodded, a smile lighting up his features at the memory. "I asked him to
move in with me during one of those phone calls. When he turned me down I
thought I'd die. I was so horrified that he'd said no that it took him ten
minutes to convince me that he hadn't said no to living with me, he just didn't
want to live here."
Cupid laughed at the image of Joxer trying to live in the loft; after spending
as much time as he had in Joxer's apartment, there was no way he could see the
other man living in his dad's old bachelor pad. "I guess I don't really blame
him," he said. "It looks a lot different now."
Ares nodded and followed Cupid's gaze, smiling proudly at the improvements
they'd made over the past few weeks. It was true that the loft didn't look much
like it had when Cupid first showed it to Strife; the walls had all been
painted, they'd re-stained the coffee table to go with the new couch, and Cupid
had brought his TV and stereo from his room at his mother's house. They'd even
given the fridge a fresh coat of paint and replaced some of the fixtures in the
kitchen and the bathroom, so the only thing that was still the same was the
bed. It had taken Cupid a little while to get used to the idea of sharing his
dad's old bed with Strife, but he'd gotten over it after the first night they
spent together in the loft.
"Strife did a lot of the work himself," Ares reminded him, meeting Cupid's gaze
with a reassuring smile. "He wouldn't have done all of that if he had any
doubts about where he wanted to be."
"I guess," Cupid said, frowning suspiciously at the older man. "Why are you
being so cool about this? I thought you didn't like the idea of us moving in
together."
"I never said that. You can't blame me for having a few reservations, Cupid.
You two haven't known each other that long, and you're young to be making such
a big commitment. But your birthday's coming up soon, and a few weeks after
that you start college. I'd rather have you settled somewhere I know you'll be
safe so you can focus your attention on your schoolwork and not worry about
when you're going to fit in time with your boyfriend."
Cupid couldn't help but laugh at that; it was exactly the kind of logic he'd
expect from his father, and the conversation had managed to distract him from
worrying about Strife's trip to Detroit. He knew that as soon as they left he'd
go right back to worrying again, but for now he could almost pretend that
everything was normal and Strife wasn't going anywhere in just a couple days.
"If I promise not to flunk out of school will you quit worrying about me?"
"I just told you, I'm not worried. Your mother, on the other hand…"
Cupid rolled his eyes at the mention of Dite; she'd called nearly every day
since he moved to the city, and he was getting to the point that he wished she
would get married again just so she'd have something to think about besides
what he was up to. "How many times has she called you?"
"At last count I think it was up to ten," Ares answered, grinning when Cupid's
jaw dropped. "She'll calm down as soon as she realizes that you're really gone.
Right now it just seems like any other summer when you'd come to stay with me.
It probably hasn't sunk in yet that you're all grown up now."
"How long do you think it'll take her to figure that out?"
"I'm guessing she'll come around just in time for you to graduate from
college," Ares answered, grinning at his son's expression. "Don't worry about
your mother, it takes her awhile to let go but eventually she catches on."
"Maybe she'll marry Heph. At least then she wouldn't be alone."
"Maybe." Ares shrugged and picked up the salad bowl, thrusting it into Cupid's
hands. "I think we're ready to eat. I'll go round up Joxer and Strife."
Cupid grinned and shook his head at his father's retreating back, carrying the
salad over to the table they'd rescued from Dite's basement. Even after a few
weeks in the loft it still didn't feel real; he kept waiting for the moment
he'd wake up from the dream he was having, or for Strife to announce that it
had been fun, but it was time for him to move on. He wasn’t sure when it would
finally sink in that Strife wasn't going anywhere, but he was hoping it would
happen before his boyfriend left for Detroit.
~
"Now I know why my dad said yes to dinner over here so fast," Cupid said,
sighing as he eyed the pile of dishes in the sink.
"How come?" Strife asked, his voice buzzing against Cupid's ear as he slid his
arms around the taller boy's waist. Cupid leaned instinctively into the
embrace, his eyes falling closed as he focused on the sensation of Strife's
mouth moving against his neck.
"Because of the dishes," he murmured, craning his neck to give Strife better
access to his skin.
"Want some help?" Strife asked, his mouth leaving Cupid's skin long enough to
whisper the question.
Cupid grinned and turned in the other boy's arms, flattening his palms against
Strife's chest. "Do you even know how to do dishes?"
"Hey, that was a low blow," Strife muttered, trying and failing to hide the
smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "'Sides, course I know how. Ya think
Ma'd lift a finger ta wash anythin' when she had a kid around ta do it?"
"Do you miss her?" The question escaped his lips before he could stop it, and
Cupid's smile faded as he waited for the other boy to answer. Strife was sort
of frowning at him, but Cupid couldn't tell whether it was because of the ill-
timed question or if he'd already guessed why Cupid was asking.
"Who, Ma? Not really," Strife answered. "I mean she's alright an' all, but she
was never exactly what ya'd call real maternal."
"Are you going to stay with her when you go home?"
"Nah. I'll probably stop by ta see how she's doin', but she's not gonna want me
crashin' on her couch the whole time. I'll just stay at the hotel with Unc."
Cupid had to bite his tongue to keep from saying anything about Strife's
mother's parenting skills. He always found himself on the verge of saying
something he knew Strife wouldn't appreciate whenever the subject of his mother
came up; it was hard for him to remember that not everyone had parents like
Ares and Dite, even though his best friends' parents were more like Strife's
mother than they were like his own. In a way he was the freak, but that didn't
stop him from feeling sorry for anyone who didn't have parents just like his.
"You must miss something about it." He stopped himself from wincing at the
sound of his own voice; he'd never really learned when to shut up, and he knew
if he kept pushing Strife was going to figure out why he was asking stupid
questions. Part of him had a sick need to know what his boyfriend was going
back to, though, and that was the part of him that had kept him awake ever
since this trip came up. "Don't you have other friends there or something?"
"Not really. It was pretty much just me, Herc an' Iolaus," Strife answered, his
fingers tracing random patterns on Cupid's back as he pulled the other boy a
little closer. "Cupe, if yer worried 'bout old boyfriends or somethin'…"
"No," Cupid interrupted, looking down at his hands as he willed himself not to
blush. "I'm not…I'm not worried about anything."
Before Strife could argue with him Cupid leaned forward, one hand leaving
Strife's chest to cup the other boy's cheek as Cupid covered Strife's mouth
with his. He knew it was stupid to worry about Strife getting back to Detroit
and suddenly deciding he wanted to move back there, but he couldn't help the
way he felt. He took his time kissing Strife, focusing on the warmth of the
other boy's mouth and the familiar hands moving on his back. When they finally
had to part for air Cupid buried his face in the curve of Strife's neck,
pressing his lips against warm skin before he whispered in Strife's ear. "When
are you coming back again?"
"I gotta leave before I can come back, Cupe," Strife answered, a nervous laugh
escaping his throat as he pulled back far enough to meet Cupid's gaze. "Cupe?
Come on, what am I missin' here?"
"Nothing," Cupid said, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Strife. "I'm
just gonna miss you, that's all."
"It's only like four days. I go with Unc, I say hey ta my old man, an' I come
back. Ya won't even know I'm gone."
As soon as Strife mentioned his father Cupid felt guilty for worrying about
himself; he should have been worrying about how Strife felt about seeing his
father for the first time since he was a kid. "Are you nervous?"
"About seein' my old man? Nah. I mean if he hates me it's no big loss, right?
Not like he's been around my whole life."
Cupid heard the edge in Strife's voice and he knew the other boy wasn't nearly
as relaxed as he was trying to sound, but he decided not to call him on it.
Strife wasn't really the type of guy that liked to talk things out, and if
Cupid tried to force him into a conversation it would just turn into a fight.
He'd talk about it when he was ready, whether that was the morning he left or
two months after he got back. All Cupid could do was wait and hope that when
Strife finally did decide to talk that he'd find the right thing to say.
"Come on," he said, pushing himself off the counter as he tightened his grip on
the other boy's waist. "Let's go to bed."
"I thought ya wanted ta do the dishes," Strife said, a grin tugging at the
corners of his mouth as he let Cupid half-pull, half-push him toward the
bedroom.
"It'll wait 'til morning," Cupid answered, returning Strife's lopsided grin
with a bright smile of his own. They managed to make their way across the
living room without tripping on any of the furniture, and by the time they
reached the entrance to the bedroom Strife had already gotten Cupid's shirt
unbuttoned. He let go of the older boy long enough to shrug out of his shirt,
dropping it on the floor and sitting on the edge of the bed to watch Strife
pull his own shirt over his head.
Once Strife's shirt hit the floor he stepped forward again, stopping in front
of Cupid to run a fingertip over the other boy's swollen lips. "Listen, Cupe,
if ya don't want me ta go …"
Cupid's heart skipped a beat when he realized what Strife was offering. Part of
him wanted to take it, to pull Strife close and tell him that he didn't want
him to go. He knew he couldn't do it, though, not if it meant asking Strife to
give up the chance to finally get to know his father. He pressed a soft kiss to
the finger that was still pressed against his lips, reaching up to close his
fingers around Strife's wrist and pull his hand away. "I don't want you to
cancel your trip," he said, sending up a silent prayer of thanks when his voice
didn't catch in his throat. "Just hurry up and go home so you can come back,
okay?"
Strife grinned and pulled his wrist out of Cupid's grip, catching the other
boy's hand in his and entwining their fingers together. He lifted their hands
to his mouth and kissed the top of Cupid's knuckles, his smile growing a little
wider at the shiver that rolled through Cupid's body. "I'm already home, Cupe."
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