Title: Day Job
Author/pseudonym: Caroline Crane
Fandom: X: WP
Pairing: Cupid/Strife
Rating: NC17
Status: complete
Archive: yes to list archives
E-mail address for feedback: caroline_crane@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: no
Other websites: http://desiderium.slashcity.net/
Author's note: I was having writer's block so I took requests on my live
journal for ficlets. Someone requested Cupid/Strife, NC17, with judicious
use of Cupid's wings. This is the result, although it is a little longer
than a ficlet.
Summary: Cupid has a job for Strife.
Warnings: no
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Strife woke to the feeling of something soft tickling his nose. And that
was annoying - more annoying than when Ares woke him up by throwing a
fireball at the wall over his head, even. At least that he was used to, but
this.he blinked a few times, squinting up at a blur of white that looked
entirely out of place in his mostly black bedroom.
"Wake up." The tickling was back again, and Strife scowled and reached up
to scratch his nose. "Come on, I haven't got all millennium."
That voice - he knew that voice. He knew that voice well enough to force
himself awake, scrambling backwards on the bed with as much grace as the
sudden, crippling fear would allow. "What are you doing here? If Unc
catches you."
"First of all, he's off overseeing some war in Thebes or someplace. And
secondly, my business is with you, not him."
"Me?" Strife was tempted to look around just to make sure there was no one
else it the room, but those dark eyes were trained pretty much directly on
him. "Listen, bird-brain, I don't know what's got your feathers all
ruffled."
"I think Psyche's cheating on me." Cupid's voice went dangerously flat at
the mention of his wife, and Strife's heart began to pound a little harder
in spite of his resolve not to let the older god scare him. He was House of
War, after all, he should be able to take on one measly love god. Only
there was nothing measly about Cupid, and anyway Strife had seen him when he
was in one of his jealous rages.
"I never touched her."
"I know that," Cupid said, rolling his eyes in a way that Strife was sure he
should find offensive. "What I need is for you to stir up a little trouble
for her, mess with her enough so she'll slip up. Then I can catch her in
the act."
It sounded like a reasonable enough plan; making Psyche betray herself was
definitely a good idea, and Strife had never been one to pass up on a chance
to make a little mischief. Still, the idea of helping Cupid out.he took one
look at the bronze, well-muscled chest and the expanse of wings and knew
this was a bad idea. He couldn't be around Cupid even for a few minutes
without his mind wandering to all sorts of bad places, places no War god had
any business wandering. And now that he'd felt Cupid's feathers against his
skin - okay, his nose - and knew how soft they really were.yeah, this was
definitely a bad idea.
"Listen, Cupe, I'd love to help you out, but I've gotta get going. Unc's
expecting me, the big guy can't do anything without me. You know how it is,
War god business and all. So I'll just see you around, okay?"
He made it as far as the end of the bed before he felt strong hands on his
shoulders, and before he had a chance to react his feet were off the floor
and he felt a strong gust of wind just before his back collided with the
wall. A second later he found himself blinking at Cupid again, just as
stupidly and this time from much closer up. And this was definitely bad,
because he couldn't fight when he was dangling in midair, Cupid's grip the
only thing keeping him from falling. Cupid's amazingly strong grip, and as
soon as that registered he couldn't help thinking about those hands on other
parts of his body.
The fact that Cupid was barely moving his wings in order to keep them in the
air was even hotter than the way Cupid was staring at him, and it really
wasn't Strife's fault when his cock decided to show an interest in what was
happening. He couldn't be expected to control himself when Cupid had him
pinned ten feet above the ground, could he? But if Cupid noticed how much
certain parts of him were enjoying this things could get embarrassing very
quickly, so he did the only thing he could do; he caved.
"Okay, okay, why didn't you just say it meant that much to you? Just tell
me what you want me to do and I'll try and work it into my schedule."
"You don't get it," Cupid said, his voice deceptively calm now. The sound
went straight to Strife's groin and it was all he could do to bite back a
groan, determined not to humiliate himself in front of his cousin. "You're
mine."
"W-what?" And that was great, because nothing said 'I'm cool' like his
voice cracking on a one-syllable word.
"I talked to Dad. He said I can borrow you for as long as I want, just as
long as I keep you out of his hair until after his war's over. So you're
mine, whether you like it or not."
He'd expected Ares to sell him out the first chance he got, but it still
hurt a little to know his uncle considered him expendable enough to hire him
out to the House of Love. And if he was going to sell Strife out he could
have at least picked a god that Strife didn't have a hopeless, unrequited
crush on; then again, if Ares or anybody else found out about his crush on
Cupid, Strife would never be able to show his face on Olympus again. So
he'd just have to get through this and hope that whatever Cupid wanted him
to do wouldn't take too long; he just wished the other god would put him
down.
"Okay, I get it. I'm all yours. Now would you put me down already?"
Cupid grinned at him and his cock instantly went straight past interested
and right to 'ready for action'. He groaned inwardly and tried to shift
away from the other god, but it was more than a little difficult considering
Cupid was the only thing keeping him from falling.
"What's the matter, you afraid of heights?"
"'Fraid of falling, more like," Strife answered, figuring a little honesty
was his best chance of getting out of this with his dignity intact. "Come
on, Cupe, I said I'd do it, what more do you want?"
He knew it was the wrong question to ask the minute he said it, because
Cupid's grin shifted and suddenly the other god was even closer, their
bodies pressing together through two layers of leather. This time he didn't
quite manage to stifle the groan, but he knew it didn't matter because there
was no way Cupid had missed the erection digging into his thigh. "Don't
worry," Cupid said, his breath warm on Strife's cheek, "I won't drop you.
Funny, though. I always thought you'd be into pain."
"Other people's, yeah," Strife answered distractedly. "Mine, not so much."
It took him a few seconds to realize what exactly Cupid had said, but as
soon as the words sank in he forgot to worry about the fact that he was
still suspended in midair. Cupid had said *I always thought*.not 'it seems
like' or even 'aren't war gods supposed to be'. He'd said that he thought
about this - that he'd thought about *Strife*. That had to mean something,
didn't it?
Before he could figure out what exactly it meant Cupid was shifting against
him again, and a low, choked moan escaped Strife's throat before he could
stop it. He glanced up sharply to find Cupid still grinning at him, but
this time the other god's expression wasn't malicious so much as.interested?
"Seems like part of you isn't too worried about falling."
He couldn't really deny that, not when the evidence was pressed against
Cupid's leg. This was the last thing he'd wanted, because now Cupid had
something to hold over him. Now that he knew that Strife wanted him he'd
find a way to use it, and there was nothing Strife could do about it. Well,
he could kill Cupid and rid himself of the problem, but that would involve
an awful lot of careful planning and by then the damage would already be
done. No, he'd have to go with denial and hope it confused Cupid enough to
get him out of this. He was just a love god, after all; it wasn't like
brains exactly ran in his side of the family.
"Look, Feathers, I don't know what you're."
"Strife, shut up," Cupid interrupted, pressing one perfect finger to
Strife's lips to silence him. A moment later he pulled his finger away only
to replace it with his mouth, and all Strife could do was wrap his arms
around Cupid's neck and hold on. He should have known that Cupid's kisses
would be mind-blowing - he was gorgeous, for one, and then there was the
whole love god thing - but he never could have been prepared for this. He
felt like he was floating, wrapped in soft heat that started at his mouth
and spread out through the rest of his body. Cupid's mouth was hot and hard
and playful all at once, almost like he knew exactly what Strife would like
best before he ever kissed him.
It took Strife a minute to realize that his back wasn't pressed up against
stone anymore, and when he realized he was lying on something soft he opened
his eyes long enough to register that Cupid had lowered them to the bed
again. He'd never even felt them move, but he couldn't make himself care
when Cupid was nipping at his jaw, his fingers expertly working open the
buckles on Strife's shirt.
"Cupe.what.what about Psyche?" Strife managed to gasp; as soon as he
realized what he'd said he could have killed himself, but Cupid didn't even
miss a beat as he tugged Strife's shirt off and tossed it aside.
"Later," the older god growled against his neck, and Strife couldn't really
think of a decent argument for that, so he shut his mouth and focused on the
fact that Cupid was kissing his neck. Cupid. Was kissing *his* neck, as
though that made any sense at all. And it wasn't just kisses - they were
soft and sweet and almost tender, as though Cupid actually cared whether or
not Strife was enjoying himself. Never in his wildest dreams had he
imagined something like this - he'd always suspected that Morpheus didn't
really like him much - but it was happening, and he definitely wasn't going
to say anything else that might make Cupid stop.
The leather melted away from both their bodies as Cupid's hands passed over
it, and Strife shivered in anticipation of the first touch of skin on skin.
This part he had imagined, but there was no way he ever could have known how
good it would really feel. The fact that Cupid was born to this probably
helped, but that couldn't explain the way he seemed to know every sensitive
spot on Strife's body, or the almost needy whimper he let out when Strife
slid his hands across Cupid's back to stroke his wings.
And oh, he'd wanted to touch those wings. He'd wanted to for as long as he
could remember, even when he was just a godling. It didn't take him long to
realize how sensitive they were, though, especially at the juncture where
wings met a perfect golden back. Strife ran his hands experimentally across
the joint, smiling when Cupid gasped and bucked hard against him. The love
god had been mapping a leisurely trail across Strife's chest with his
tongue, but as soon as Strife touched his wings again he pushed himself up
to stare down at the other god.
Neither of them said anything, but Strife could tell what Cupid was asking
without having to hear the words. He nodded once and a moment later he felt
something warm and slick coating the entrance to his body, then his legs
were being nudged a little less than gently apart. Cupid grabbed his legs
and wrapped them around his own waist, lifting Strife's hips off the bed to
line himself up. He pushed in slowly, setting an agonizing pace when all
Strife really wanted was for the other god to slam into him and fuck him as
hard as he could. Cupid seemed determined to take his time, though, and
there wasn't much Strife could do about it except go along for the ride.
He reached up when Cupid was finally buried completely inside him, one hand
on Cupid's hip and the other stroking slowly up and down his back. Every
time he reached the juncture of Cupid's wings he let his fingers brush
through soft feathers, smiling at the breathy gasp that escaped the other
god every time. He never thought he'd have the power to make Cupid feel
like this; he was Passion, after all, and Strife was.well, Strife. He
wasn't even an important god, not in the grand scheme of things. Sure, he
talked big about becoming a major god one day, but the truth was that strife
wasn't exactly a big commodity on Olympus. He was lucky that Ares seemed to
find him useful enough to keep around, otherwise nobody would know who he
was.
Right now, though.right now he felt more than important; at the moment he
felt like he could do anything, even take on the Titans themselves. He
couldn't believe he was the one making Cupid pant and thrust a little more
wildly with each stroke of long fingers against his wings, but there was no
denying that it was happening. With each stroke Strife thrust up to meet
Cupid, his hands shaking just a little every time Cupid's cock brushed his
prostate. His own cock lay neglected between them, but Strife didn't dare
touch himself for fear that he'd lose control and end things before either
of them were ready.
A moment later he found himself wondering if Cupid could read his mind,
because the other god reached between them and wrapped a perfect hand around
Strife's cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. It was hard to believe he
could keep such perfect rhythm, but Strife knew he'd probably had a lot of
practice. Besides, he'd already learned one trick that he had a feeling
would throw Cupid off at least a little. He let go of Cupid's hip and slid
both arms around the older god's back, burying his hands in soft white
feathers. He dragged his fingers across Cupid's wings carefully, making
sure not to bend any of the love god's feathers in the process. When he
reached the edge of Cupid's wings he splayed his fingers further apart and
stroked as far down as he could reach, then he slid his hands up Cupid's
back to tease the juncture of wing and back.
Just as he suspected, as soon as he touched Cupid's wings the other god
bucked even harder against him, nearly lifting Strife off the mattress with
the force of his thrust. He grew a little wilder with each pass of Strife's
hands, until Strife wasn't entirely sure whether or not they were still on
the mattress at all. Cupid's wings flexed in time with his hands, almost as
though he was subconsciously reaching for more of Strife's touch even as he
brought them both closer to orgasm.
It got harder for Strife to concentrate on Cupid's wings as the hand on his
cock grew rougher and rougher, and before he knew it Strife was thrusting up
hard into Cupid's grip, his hands tightening on Cupid's wings as he came in
the other god's hand. He wasn't sure if it was the grip he had on Cupid's
wings or the clenching of his muscles around Cupid's cock, but a moment
later Cupid thrust one last time and came inside him, murmuring something
Strife couldn't quite make out as the other god collapsed against his chest.
They lay there like that until Strife lost track of where he ended and Cupid
began, but just when he was starting to doze off Cupid shifted and slipped
out of him. Strife told himself this was inevitable and braced himself for
business as usual, so it took him completely by surprise when Cupid brushed
warm lips against his cheek and settled down on the mattress next to him.
Affection was the last thing he'd ever expected from Cupid or any other god,
really, so it took him a few seconds before he could trust himself to speak.
"Uh.Cupe?"
A muffled grunt let him know that Cupid was at least conscious, if not
exactly coherent.
"Maybe this isn't the best time to bring this up, but seriously, what about
Psyche? I mean if she is.you know.cheating on you.what are you gonna do?"
"I know she is, I just need to prove it," Cupid answered, one hand lazily
stroking Strife's chest as he mumbled into the pillow. "Then I can dissolve
the marriage and I don't have to worry about losing Bliss. After that she
can do whatever she wants."
Strife frowned down at the blur of blond hair taking up most of his pillow;
granted, he and Cupid had never been exactly what he'd call close, but he
knew enough about Cupid and Psyche to know how jealous Cupid could get.
He'd definitely never expected to hear Cupid say he didn't care what Psyche
did, especially if she was screwing somebody on Olympus. "I thought you
were head over heels for her. You know, most beautiful mortal in the world,
even your mom was jealous? What happened to all that?"
Cupid's shoulder lifted in a reasonable facsimile of a shrug, and he finally
opened his eyes long enough to meet Strife's confused gaze. "To tell you
the truth, she's not really my type. If I hadn't gotten the arrows mixed up
that day and then let one of them get away from me.well, let's just say it
wasn't one of my finer moments."
And okay, Cupid looked really, *really* good when he blushed. "So you're
saying this whole thing with you and Psyche.it was all an accident?"
"Pretty much," Cupid answered. "I mean I like her and all, and maybe if she
hadn't started sleeping around we could have made it work. But the magic
had to wear off eventually, and I guess I wasn't giving her what she needed.
It's better this way, trust me."
Cupid closed his eyes again and Strife assumed that meant the subject was
closed. For a few long moments he stared blankly up at the ceiling, running
the other god's words over in his head in the hope of making some sense of
them. No matter how hard he tried to focus his mind kept coming back to one
thing, though, and finally he couldn't stand it anymore.
"Cupe?" This time a barely coherent 'nggh' was his only response, but he
took it as a sign that Cupid was at least mostly conscious. "What is your
type?"
When he heard Cupid chuckle he was glad the other god's eyes were still
closed, because the last thing he needed was for Cupid to see his full-body
blush. The hand that was resting on his chest began moving again, but to
his relief Cupid didn't open his eyes.
"Dark hair, pale, kinda skinny, a little unpredictable." Then Cupid did
open his eyes, but Strife was too busy being shocked to worry about the
blush. The other god pushed himself up on one elbow long enough to lean
over, pressing their lips together for a long, leisurely kiss before he
pulled back again. "Get some sleep, Strife. I've got plans for you later."
Strife grinned in spite of himself as Cupid settled back onto the pillow and
closed his eyes again. For the first time since Cupid showed up in his
bedroom Strife was actually looking forward to doing a favor for the other
god, and if he was lucky maybe some of Cupid's plans wouldn't involve Psyche
at all.
fin