The characters belong to MCA/Universal and were used without permission. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made.
It's not more than a snippet, but I needed to write it.
It's slash, Strife/Cupid to be exact. If you like it, thanks, if not, blame it on the fact that I just saw 'For Him the Bell Tolls' for the first time this week.
You can find more work by KitKat at the Cupie Homepage, The Ksmithares Archive, and at her site Kitkat's Slacker Slash Shack
Send feedback to TonyaKat@aol.com
Cupid walked into Aphrodite's temple, his hazel eyes burning. Once again, she had interfered in one his matches. He could just hear her now, "Cupie, you know there's more to this love stuff than happily ever after."
Of course, he knew that, but did that mean that it all had to be jealous and angry? Feeling the anger well up inside him, he sent a bolt of power toward a statue of his mom, only to find that a spurt of flower petals was all he could muster. He so rarely got this angry that he found it difficult to channel his power in that direction.
"I know you can do better than that."
Cupid looked back at the statue. Mom on the half-shell, he called it. Only now laying quite comfortably in the shell, was Strife, God of Mischief.
"Watch and learn, Feathers."
Cupid was almost too shocked by the bizarre nickname to duck as Strife aimed a beam of power at another statue, shattering it into dust. Brushing himself off, he stalked toward Strife.
"You ... you ... aaarrrrghh." He was so flustered he couldn't get his tongue to work properly.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? I better check."
With that, Strife surged up, his lips meeting Cupid's. Running his tongue over Cupid's lips, he felt them open and he plunged into the heat. Their tongues met and danced, tasting each other thoroughly.
"The tongue seems to be intact and in excellent working condition." Strife grinned. Then the look in Cupid's eyes made the grin turn into a shiver.
"Excellent working condition? I don't think you've tested it enough for such a statement." He closed the distance between them, kissing Strife hard. Breaking the kiss, and patently ignoring the groan of disappointment from Strife, he ventured lower. Licking and nibbling over the pale jaw and neck, nimble fingers working at the many clasps of Strife's outfit. As each bit of flesh was exposed, it was methodically tasted by Cupid.
Finally Cupid reached his goal, Strife's erection, jutting out proudly from a dark nest of curls. Swirling his tongue around the head, his hand began to massage Strife's balls, bringing forth a purr-like sound from the pale god. His other hand began to pump at the shaft, with a confident rhythm. Using all the skills he had under his considerable power as god of love, he brought Strife to a shattering climax, his voice bouncing off the walls of the temple.
"Wow," was about all Strife could say.
Cupid smiled, wrapping his arms around Strife, pulling him close.
"STRIFE!!!!!!!" a disembodied voice called.
"Damn, gotta go, Unc Ares bellows." Strife grinned apologetically and disappeared.
"FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Cupid screamed, letting loose a powerful bolt of energy, turning the back wall of the temple into a window toward the fields. Well, at least now he knew he was capable of channeling his anger.