Welcome to AresJoxerCupidStrife

Title: Sleeping Beauty
Arthur: Mac
Email: mac_xavier@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: These boys are all free agents. :P
Archive: Yeah, sure.
Summary: A fairy tale that has been bent, broken and
mutilated beyond recognition. Mostly.
Rating: R, damn it.
Note: Not Betaed. Not Spell Checked.

******

The sorceress known through out the land only as
Discord scowled out her window toward the palace of
her brother, King Ares. Tonight he and his Queen were
celebrating the birth of their son, Prince Cupid. A
child conceived only with the help of her magic.

But she hadn't been invited. Bastards.

Oh, well. Her curse should be kicking in about....

An anguished cry echoed through the valley.

Now, actually.

Queen Aphrodite had just been turned into a dove.
Eventually the Prince would grow wings as well, but it
didn't really matter. He'd be dead the day of his
eighteenth birthday anyway.

Discord laughed bitterly as she turned away from her
tower window, knowing that her brother would exile her
from the valley kingdom.

******

Joxer, the King's Jester, sighed sadly as the Queen
flew away. Always more than he seemed, he could
practically taste Discord's magic in the air,
spiralling and coiling around Aphrodite and less
powerfully around the baby Prince. And less powerfully
meant that he could... alter it a little.

His whispered words went unheard by his beloved King
and the court, but they flew as high as the Queen
turned dove. "The wings you'll keep, Princeling dear,
but in eighteen turns death shall not find you, but
sleep instead. Sleep as still as the dead, until true
love's kiss shall you awake. This gift I give to you,
and your father, for all with in these walls will
sleep with you."

The Jester and some-times Wizard Most High leaned back
against the wall and sighed. The damned fool things he
did for a love that wasn't returned.

******

Eighteen years passed, fairly uneventfully as a matter
of fact. The day of Prince Cupid's birthday had
arrived. A day greeted by everyone with much joy.
Well, almost everyone.

Ares grinned at his jester and clapped him on the
shoulder. "Why so grim, Jox? Cupid's grown into a fine
man. A great deal of that is owed to you, actually.
He'd hate to see you so sad."

"Sorry, 'Res," Joxer sighed. "I just have this feeling
that something's going to go... wrong some how.
And..."

"And what?"

Joxer shook his head. "Nothing. Come on, Cupid's
expecting us."

******

Cupid was just opening his last gift, under the
approving eyes of his father and the almost sad eyes
of his confidant. Whatever was inside that present
had...

A sharp edge.

Cupid stared in shock as blood welled from the shallow
slash in the palm of his hand. In eighteen years he'd
never so much as nicked himself shaving.

Joxer sighed. "Well, shit."

Ares turned to scold his friend for using such
language in front of his son when a creeping lethargy
slowly over took him. "What....?"

"You're only going to sleep, 'Res," Joxer explained
softly as he eased the King back into his thrown.
"I'll take care of everything, my... love."

Ares could only blink once before he fell into the
enspelled sleep that had already claimed the rest of
the court.

Joxer fought off his spell long enough to get Cupid
and Ares both into their beds, leaving the rest of the
court where they had fallen. He was too weary to get
much farther and collapsed on the other side of Ares'
bed when the spell finally took hold of him.

One last component to his long ago casting took
effect, and the white rose bushes around the palace
grew into a mighty wall of thorns.

******

Three days after Prince Cupid's eighteenth birthday,
another Prince was born.

Discord blinked down at her new born son and sighed.
"Well, shit," she managed to mutter before the
counter-curse Aphrodite had managed to get out
transformed her into a raven.

And so young Prince Strife grew up alone but for a few
servants left over from his dead father's household.

******

The next eighteen years weren't nearly so boring for
Prince Strife has the first eighteen had been for
Prince Cupid, but then Strife had a mischievious
streak a mile and a half wide that his unknown cousin
lacked.

It was this wildness that eventually led Prince Strife
to check out the 'Castle of Roses' one day after he'd
given his guardians, Hercules and Iolaus, the slip.
Not that it was that hard what with their hands being
all over each other at the time.

Strife gave a low whistle when he saw the white roses
that covered the old palace of the King. No one had
been inside that palace in eighteen years, and no one
had come out. He grinned suddenly.

Prince Strife was a lot of things. Foolish and
headstrong first to be listed by anyone who knew him
for more than five minutes. But he was also daring and
adverturing, and loved a challenge.

Being a slim young man, lean is how Iolaus had put it
once Hercules came to accept the boy wouldn't fill out
any farther, Strife had little trouble wiggling
through the wall of thorns behind the roses. What
little trouble he did have was taken care of by the
black leather clothes he prefered to wear.

He whistled softly as he got an eyeful of two noble
women curled around each other in a compromising
position, and fast asleep. He snickered and resisted
the urge to swipe their underpants before going off in
search of whatever treasure was really hidden behind
the walls.

Mostly what he found were people who had simply fallen
asleep where they were. Guards leaning against walls,
maids curled up where ever they'd been cleaning, and
stable boys with the horses half groomed.

Now the small guy half wrapped around the King? Now
that was interesting. And Strife figured to make it
more so.

By tucking hands into a few key places.

He stood back and smirked at his handy work before
wandering off again. He was even humming as he
strolled through the halls.

Eventually he came to another bedroom (well, duh) and
got a good look at what was laying on the bed.

Or who.

"Like... Wow."

The almost mythic Prince Cupid. The winged Golden Boy
of the kingdom and Heir to the throne.

"No one told me you were a hottie, stud," Strife
giggled as he bounced over to the bed. His hands
carressed the white feathered wings, drawn there
almost magneticly. "Mmmm. Soft. Wonder if you taste as
good as you look."

He did.

And the warm insistant hands that tugged him down on
to that firm body were pretty good too.

"Wow," one of them breathed when they broke for air.

"Well, Happy birthday to me," Cupid muttered before
wrapping his wings around the dark haired young man
sprawled across his chest and rolling them over. "Now,
how the hell do I unwrap you?"

Strife giggled again and started wiggling out of his
leather clothes. "With a little help. Name's Strife."

"Cupid, can we have sex now?"

"Oh, gods, yes."

******

Joxer woke up to find himself absently stroking his
King's thick erection and paused in startled
confusion.

"Don't stop," ordered a hoarse voice.

Joxer blinked and resumed the movement of his hand as
his eyes drifted up to lock with Ares'. With a groan
the king pulled away and rolled Joxer under him.

"Later you're going to explain this," Ares growled as
he settled between Joxer's legs. "After I fuck you
through the mattress."

"Yes, please," Joxer breathed.

******

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

Evil Cordy rolled her eyes at Mac as the taller girl
flopped back on the pile of pillows that replaced
chairs in their dorm room. "That ain't how the bloody
tale goes, an' y'know it."

"My version is *much* more fun," the blonde sniffed
distainfully.

"Y're a slash slut, pet."

Mac grinned impishly. "That's not all I'm a slut for,
babe."

Cordy pounced with a soft growl, her long black tumble
of curls hiding her elvish face for a moment. "Next
time we do Little Red Riding Hood."

"And are you going to eat me all up, Little Bad Wolf?"

"And y're gonna love every minute of it," Cordy
hissed.

Now, really, THE END.

Go away you naughty little voyuers!