The Love of War

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any characters of the Hercules/Xenaverse; they belong to USA and Renaissance Pictures. I own Jessie and her family. Just wait until you meet the rest of them! Be afraid; be very afraid.

WARNING: Cliffhanger ending! But I hope you’ll read it anyway.

The Love of War, Chapter Sixteen:

Strife felt that if he concentrated hard enough, he could get his eyes to open. He was sure, that given enough time, he could do it. He just wasn’t sure that he could do it anytime soon. He ached in places that hadn’t ached since his very first orgy. That time, it had taken a whole room full of people, a mixture of gods, immortals and demigods to cause this ache and exhaustion. This time, it had only taken one.

Did he really want to keep this up? Oh, yeahhhh…

The question was; could he keep it up?

A twitch from his groin at the memory of last night’s encounter gave him an enthusiastic yes! After the last round, he hadn’t been sure that he’d get feeling back there by morning. The fact that his immortal, yet tired body was trying to raise in salute was reason enough to think that Unc had been right; a frontal attack had been the way to go.

He could kick himself for not realizing it on his own. He could have been aching like this much, much sooner. And, a lot more often.

Strife spared a thought for the mortal currently residing in his lover’s residence. If *he* was this tired after one extended session with the God of War, she must be truly exhausted. Maybe he’d go ask his mother about a potion for Jessie that would restore her strength. She could probably use it; heck, so could he. He really didn’t want to dwell on the thought of how he was sharing a lover with said mortal.

Okay, concentrate. You *can* open your eyes, you *can* move. The question is; do you really want to? Yes.

Okay, any minute now, you’ll do it. Just roll over and sit up.

There was nothing graceful about his flop onto his back. He recognized the feeling of the bed under himself as his own. Being able to identify your location by the feeling of the bed under you was a skill that Uncle Ares had taught him centuries ago. It was a useful trick to have when you weren’t sure where you were and when you couldn’t remember how you got there. He noticed that someone had carefully pulled the covers up to his chin so his aching semi erection slid deliciously against his silk sheets. Cupid must have brought him back, because there was no way he would have gotten here on his own. Had his lover carefully tucked him in? Oh, it was nice to think so, he mused.

He needed some ambrosia. Ambrosia would be just the thing to give his body some nourishment and energy. Now the problem was that he would have to move to get it. He would have to actually get out of bed and move. The mere thought of the effort involved was tiring. Wait a minute; he was a god, wasn’t he? He could just conjure some up and have a mini breakfast in bed. No need to move outside the comfort of his own sheets. He could have his morning cup and then go down to eat with the rest of the family. What a night. It had caused him to forget the most basic of skills, but had given him such a delicious soreness all over.

He conjured a goblet of the food of the gods and forced his eyes open. He plucked it out of the air and downed it with one swallow. Its warmth spread through his tired body, pushing the exhaustion before it like a wave. The velvety warmth coursed through his extremities until he felt like he could move without stumbling. It was a pity that he couldn’t give this stuff to Jessie; it would perk her right up. She was probably feeling like she could use it right about now.

Strife banished the cup with a thought and rolled out of bed. It wasn’t the most adroit exit from a bed that he’d ever done, in fact, if his uncle had seen it, Ares would have probably given him a serious critique about it. Unc would have shook his finger and reminded him that it just wouldn’t *do* to appear less than elegant when you were exiting a bed. The House of Love prided itself on its sophistication when it came to the arts of love and a less than nimble exit from a bed was a reflection of poor manners. Ares wouldn’t have cared that the bed Strife was leaving was his own or that it was currently empty but for him, one should never stop practicing. In this House, you just had to look good all the time.

Strife sighed. Why was he thinking about Ares now? Maybe it was because his son had fucked him into unconsciousness. That fact had smarted a little. When was the last time that *he* had been the one left limp and exhausted? His mind stretched backward over the legion of lovers that he’d had over the years. Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, but no one lover came to mind. An orgy: yes. But no one lover had done this. That fact made him all the more determined to make interludes with Cupid a regular thing.

Strife clothed himself in his favorite cream leather breeches and a matching sleeveless linen tunic and went down to breakfast with the family. He even managed to walk more or less without wincing.

What a night. What a wonderful, blissful, exhausting night.

His mom and uncle were already up. They were sitting at the table with the usual magnificent feast spread out across it. When you could conjure up anything that you wanted to eat without worrying about preparation time or your gut spreading, it made for a wonderful mixture of food for your enjoyment.

Strife managed to walk to the table in his usual graceful glide. He did flash in a plump pillow onto his chair an instant before he sat down. He’d be another half an hour recovering at least. Both Eris and Ares flashed him a knowing look with almost identical smirks on their faces. He managed to bite back a groan and resisted the urge to thump his head on the table. Unc wouldn’t have had to tell his mother what her son was doing last night; she would have been getting the same power surge while he and Cupid were squirming on the desk. Correction; while Cupid was growling and *he* was squirming. It took an act of will not to blush. He furiously fought it down, he hadn’t blushed in centuries.

Demos and Phobos were busy eating and missed the expression on the parental unit’s faces. Good, he wanted to put off the teasing that would eventually start when Pleasure and Passion realized what he and their big brother were doing. Strife carefully poured himself a goblet of milk and heaped a plate with fruit and oatcakes.

“I wonder who the Big Bad has over at his temple,” Phobos wondered aloud.

“Yeah I’ve been getting some sharp spikes of power from the House of War too,” Demos nodded. “I haven’t gotten anything like this from Big Brother since he and Psycho started up.”

“And this feels *way* different from what I got when those two were going at it.” Phobos grinned.

“No joke! Last time felt all spiny and dangerous, like I was trying to swallow a sea urchin whole, this time feels a little dark, but *really* good.” Demos grinned.

“Oh, yeahhh,” his twin purred. “And whoever he was doing yesterday felt warm and honey sweet.”

“Man, Big Bro is really getting some!”

“I’m almost jealous!”

Strife hid his expression behind his cup, yesterday would have been *him* that their brother had been doing, and evidently he and Jessie felt different enough to comment on. He gritted his teeth like he was trying to strain his milk and waited for Unc to start teasing him.

“It’s about time your brother started to work off that excess energy. Maybe now he’ll stop stirring up so many battles on earth.” Ares calmly popped a grape into his mouth.

“Yeah, Dad,” Demos agreed. “Conflict between mortals has really been on the rise for the last few years.”

“Just goes to show what can happen when you let things build up like that.” Eris shrugged and peeled a banana. “It just isn’t healthy.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that with us, do you Auntie?” Demos smiled.

“Oh yeah, you two are a veritable picture of health and well being.” Eris rolled her eyes and swallowed the whole banana in a maneuver that took her priestesses years to accomplish.

“Happy and well adjusted: that’s us.” Phobos grinned, eyeing the way his aunt was eating her breakfast. Hadn’t she just done a workshop with her temple in Marathon? Maybe he should pop down for a visit, maybe arrange for some of his own people to take lessons?

“How about you, Cuz,” Demos questioned, looking over at Strife, his cousin had the loose and yet slightly stiff look of someone who had been active the night before.

“What about me?” Strife looked up from his plate and at his extremely blonde cousin. The look in the other god’s face let him know that he wasn’t going to be able to deny his having sex last night.

“Are you happy and well adjusted?”

“Oh, yeah,” he purred, letting his eyes close into slits. The expression on his face let the duo in front of him that he wasn’t letting anything fester. “I got ‘adjusted’ last night.”

“Anyone we know?” Phobos queried.

“None of your beeswax,” Strife languidly lifted a strawberry to his lips and made a show of biting down slowly. He licked the juice off his lips, letting his eyes glaze in remembrance of Cupid’s kisses. Coital satisfaction spread through his body and he let both of his cousins get a power buzz from his memories of the night before.

“Damn Cuz, don’t you want to share?” Demos pouted and exchanged a look with his twin. The God of Joy was brimming with satisfaction. “Looks like whoever it was gave you a Tartarus of a night.”

“You wouldn’t even lend me your comb, would you?”

“Well, no,” Demos admitted. “But that’s different!”

“Oh, this is different all right. And no, I won’t be ‘loaning’ this one to you two.” No way was he loaning his lover to those two. Not that they would want him once they found out who it was. And Cupid wouldn’t take to be passed around. If there was any passing to be done, it would be the God of War that would be the passer, not the ‘passee’.

He could picture several millennia of being teased by the Terrible Two in front of him once they realized who was ‘warm and honey sweet’. Centuries of jokes about how ‘butch’ he liked his male lovers, of how black leather and spikes turned him on (at least when Cupid was wearing them), and how ‘the Big Bad’ was doing the ‘Wimp of Joy.’

The last of the effects of the night before were leaving him, but enough remained to remind him of exactly why he was going to take everything they dished out with a grin and a waggled eyebrow, because if he could have this on a regular basis, it would be worth it.

“Damn, Strife, you’re mean, sitting there all smug and satisfied without even giving us a hint of who it was.” Phobos pouted. The expression didn’t have the same punch as when Eris did it, but it came very close. It was plain the Passion had been practicing.

“That lower lip can jut out far enough for a bird to land on, I’m still not tellin’.” Strife laughed.

“We’ll just have to sneak around until we find out,” Demos declared.

“Go ahead, it’ll make for some laughs, ‘cause you two have all the subtlety of rabid rhino on an iced pond.” Strife said around a mouthful of pita bread.

“He’s got you there, boys.” Ares grinned.

“Hey! We can be subtle!” Phobos objected.

“Compared to you two, stampeding centaurs are subtle.” Eris snorted.

“Minotaurs in a pottery shop,” Strife offered.

“A greased hydra,” Ares’ grin looked like it would split his faced.

“Wait! I’ve got another one-a drunken giant with his sandals untied.” Strife laughed.

“An Artemisian Virgin after drinking a love potion,” Eris giggled.

“A love struck Siren,” Ares wiggled his eyebrows.

“Cousin Xena at a bridal shower,” Strife gestured with his goblet, causing some milk to spill over.

“Hey! We didn’t come here to be abused.” Demos protested.

“Where do you usually go? The Silken Barbarian, or the Velvet Whip,” Strife asked with a cheeky grin.

Both of the blonde deities in front of him put on a lofty expression that they had probably learned from their mother, Aphrodite, and flashed out.

“So, I take it that the frontal approach worked,” Ares inquired with a raised eyebrow as he took a big swallow from his own goblet.

“Oh yeah, Unc, in so many ways,” Strife gave a long sigh of remembered pleasure. He was grateful that his uncle had waited until his cousins had left to ask.

“Does he still respect you this morning?” Eris chuckled.

“If he doesn’t, I’ll just try harder next time.”

Cupid woke for the second time that morning, wishing again that Strife was in sight to gloat over. Jessie was still lying in a boneless pile and Bliss was once again cuddled up with her. One of her arms was flung out, but the other one was curled around his sleeping son. Bliss was lying in the hollow of her shoulder, sucking on his fist in his sleep. Jessie must have been tired, because she hadn’t moved around enough to twist the tunic she was wearing up, she was still mostly covered by it.

Greagus, sensing that his master was awake, took this opportunity to shove his very large and wet nose across the bed. Unlike his lover, Cupid’s tunic had twisted up and his dog’s snout made contact with a bare buttock. Cupid hissed out a breath and looked over his shoulder. Greagus’ thick tail was wagging wildly, letting his master know exactly what he needed. The God of War snapped his fingers and the bedroom door opened. Greagus gave a happy yip and trotted outside to do what all dogs, even immortal ones, needed to do in the mornings.

The little doggie sound woke Jessie. She was sleeping a lot lighter than she had when she first arrived. Apparently, waking up with her hands tied had taught a little bit more ‘situational awareness’. It was true what they said, you learn quicker with a spanking than without one.

The fact that she had enjoyed that spanking apparently hadn’t impacted on the lesson at all.

Once again she looked at him over his son’s head with a smile, and then she yawned, delicately covering her mouth with the back of her free hand.

“I guess that I was more tired than I thought,” she whispered.

“I haven’t been letting you get a lot of sleep.” He whispered back.

He didn’t want to wake Bliss, he wanted to enjoy this moment for a little longer. This is what he wanted in his life; passionate and willing lovers, a beautiful son, a lazy morning now and again, and good battles for a power buzz.

But, with the timing that any child perfects, Bliss’ eyes fluttered open. He stretched, scraping his sharp little toenails along Jessie’s thigh, and rubbing his feathers across his daddy’s stomach. Jessie let out a little hiss, but had no other reaction. Then she sighed, and nuzzled Bliss’ blonde curls. Cupid was just glad that his son wasn’t waking with his normal energy; otherwise he’d be bouncing on the bed.

“She’s softer than you are Daddy.” Bliss murmured.

“In so many ways,” Cupid grinned. Jessie wrinkled her nose at him.

“Did you have any more bad dreams,” Jessie’s voice was still a little thick with sleep.

“Nope,” the little godling yawned. Evidently, Bliss felt like his daddy and didn’t want to end this rare way of waking up, because he didn’t make any move to climb out of bed and Jessie’s arms.

It wouldn’t last.

“Daddy, I have to pee.”

“Then you’re going to have to get up.”

“Don’t wanna,” Bliss scowled, his little face was scrunching up.

“You haven’t had an ‘accident’ for a while, Little Hawk. Do you want to now?”

“No,” Bliss gave a childish put upon sigh.

“Then you’re going to have to get up.” Cupid pointed out. He couldn’t blame his son for not wanting to move. Jessie’s breasts *were* a lot softer than his own chiseled chest. And while Cupid had had no plan to let Jessie have any contact with Bliss when this had all started, now that he planned to keep her, he had no problem with seeing his baby boy and his mortal cuddled up together.

Bliss gave another childish pout, but scrabbled off the bed. Jessie giggled when Bliss’ twisting around caused his wings to brush against her body. Bliss’ wing feathers were still a little softer than his father’s, but his primaries were still firm enough to hold their shape as they brushed up against the woman in the bed with them. And, evidently Jessie was a little ticklish. Hmmm, that was good to know. Sensitive skin could be an asset, especially now that he planned to keep her.

Bliss dashed out of the room just as soon as his feet touched carpet. He’d used his wings to get greater distance as he hopped off the bed and out the door to the privy.

Jessie indulged in another long stretch with a deep inhale. The sight of her chest lifting and expanding was enough to get him hard again. He snaked out a lazy arm to pull her over to him and indulge in a long morning kiss.

Jessie unaccountably fought him for a moment. He pulled back enough to raise an eyebrow in inquiry.

“My breath must be awful,” she explained as she tried to lean away from him.

Cupid grinned and shook his head. Mortals could be so twitchy at the oddest things. He conjured a goblet and filled it with a clear liquid that smelled of mint. He tipped into her mouth for a generous swallow. Jessie obediently drank it down. And when Cupid sent the goblet away, she ran an experimental tongue over her suddenly clean teeth.

“Hmm, that beats brushing any day,” she leaned forward and gave him a long and thorough kiss. It was the first time that she had initiated any contact between them. When she felt his erection, she rubbed herself against him. She broke the kiss to nibble along his throat.

“I don’t think that we have enough time to do anything before your son gets back,” she murmured against his skin.

“Then why are you doing this?” he growled. He knew that she was right. Bliss would be back just as soon as he drained his bladder.

“Because I can,” Cupid felt her smile against his skin.

He gave a soundless snarl and pulled her flush against him. She smiled mischievously up into his hungry eyes and undulated against him, getting him harder when she *knew* that his baby boy would be back as soon as he emptied his bladder. She purred and slid one leg up and over his hip, bringing herself even closer so that the thin fabric of their tunics were the only thing separating his cock from the soft haven of her body. Jessie deliberately rubbed her already moist vulva along his needy flesh and let her hips give a little circle. Then, she cocked her head and smirked when the rapid patter of little feet started to come down the hallway. She slid away with a smile and a small little glide of her tongue along her lips.

Oh, she was going to pay. And he was going to take so much joy in collecting.

Bliss took another running jump with a couple of flaps of his wings to land on the bed, right in between them. Damn, the kid was always on target. Jessie giggled as Bliss’ wings once again brushed against her skin.

“What’s for breakfast?” Bliss once again settled against Jessie, but this time Cupid knew that his son was too awake to drop back off.

Like another part of his anatomy. He settled the thick covers over his aroused flesh.

“That’s a very good question,” Jessie smiled over at Cupid. “So, ‘Dad’, what’s for breakfast?”

Greagus took this opportunity to trot back into the bedroom, tail wagging ‘hello!’; ensuring that there were way too many beings around to make his mortal pay for her teasing. Greagus took up position at the foot of the bed and all but vibrated with energy. Jessie rolled over onto her side, propped her head up on one arm and waggled her eyebrows at him, all the while cuddling his son against her. Two sets of blue eyes and one set of red all twinkled merrily at him.

Cupid sighed, he knew when he had to retreat and plan another attack. He willed his cock to soften so that his tunic wouldn’t tent up when he got out of bed. There was no way that he was going to put on his leathers just yet. He would have to before he took Bliss back to the House of Love, or face questions from Ares and Eris. But there was no way he’d fit comfortably into them just yet.

“Okay, let’s go eat.” He said with a wry twist of his lips.


Family breakfast with Jessie was definitely a welcome experience. She was patient with his babbling son and he could see her sneaking sausages to his dog. Greagus had taken up position on the floor between his master and the newest addition to his House. How the Dog of War could have such a hopeful expression on his face and still seem so fierce was a mystery. Cupid knew that if Jessie hadn’t scooted her chair fully under the table, Greagus would have dropped his head into her lap and done his best to look pitiful and starving. But, it seemed that such tactics weren’t needed; he was getting tidbits without them.

Bliss was talking excitedly about the fort he and his uncles had made in what Cupid knew was the Orgy room. Bliss didn’t know what the room was used for yet, he only knew that the soft floor filled with pillows was perfect to play in.

As a number of gods and demigods knew intimately, it just depended on what your definition of ‘play’ was.

Jessie was eating with good appetite, letting Cupid know that the platter that he’d left for her hadn’t been quite enough. That, or Jessie had learned to take her meals when she could.

Cupid frowned, he didn’t want her getting too full, or she wouldn’t be up to the vigorous fucking that he was going to give her later. Then, he took a look at what was on her plate. She wasn’t eating anything heavy; her plate was full of fruit and cheese, nothing that would lie like lead later. Or make her sick with physical exertion. That was good, she was thinking ahead. It looked like the only sausages she was picking up were the ones that she was feeding to his dog.

He lingered over his morning ambrosia and watched the other two at the table.

Bliss was talking excitedly about his experiment with Auntie Eris’ finger paints and how his wings had looked with stripes and Jessie was laughing and asking how he’d kept the paints from mixing. Bliss’ little face scrunched in thought before he admitted that the paints *had* mixed, but it had looked really great. All with his mouth full of honey cake.

This domestic scene was almost enough to distract him from his anger at his ex wife. Zeus knows that the last domestic scene with both his son and his mortal had been enough to bring him up short and his anger to fizzle out a bit. Not go away completely, but enough to shove to the back of the chariot.

He was still simmering about Psyche; that traitorous bitch. But there wasn’t a whole lot he could do at the moment without wasting the time that he had with Jessie. His ex wasn’t going anywhere, but Jessie might if he didn’t find a way to tie her to his House. He shoved his rage about his favorite general’s attempted assassination to the back of his mind and concentrated on what was right in front of him.

Surprisingly, he wanted Strife at the table too. Cupid could readily imagine the God of Joy tossing grapes across the table at Jessie or Bliss and Jessie taking the maternal role of halting the flying of food while they were eating it. He could all but see mischievous expressions on the faces of his son and lover when confronted by the ‘mom’, and Jessie throwing up her hands in exasperation while Greagus waited for food to fall on the floor.

How could he be getting so soft and hard at the same time? When had the God of War wanted such a scene at his breakfast table? When had the thought of having two of his lovers in his home with his child become such a desired image? He put aside his mental musings to concentrate on what was in front of him.

Jessie was laughing again, causing her breasts to jiggle a little bit and just the sight of them swaying was enough to harden his semi erect cock. He furiously got it back under control because if he didn’t, then he really would be going to his father’s in his loose tunic rather than his leathers. Ares had already seen him out of his leathers a couple of days ago. Showing up at another temple in any thing less than his usual studded black would cause speculation for decades.

Bliss was getting full, he could tell. But he was prolonging his time at the table because of the novelty of having Jessie there. Cupid couldn’t blame his son for wanting to spend time with her, but if he knew Ares, the God of Love was waiting for his grandson with plans sparking in his eyes.

“Okay, Little Hawk, your granddad is waiting for you. He said something about taking you to swim with the Naiads today.” Cupid mentally sent those plans to his father and received a mental ‘okay’. Bliss loved to swim and the Naiads would love to see the little godling. “Why don’t you go grab your ball to toss at the beach?”

“’Kay, daddy,” Bliss nodded and climbed down from his chair. Then he fluttered his wings up so that he could brush a kiss against Jessie’s cheek. Jessie’s eyes lit and she brought her hand to her cheek while she watched the little one run from the room.

“Are you finished?” he nodded at her plate.

“Yes, my lord.” Jessie answered.

“Come here,” he ordered and motioned to his lap.

Jessie obediently rose and came to his chair. He pulled her down and across his thighs. He slid his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and held her head still. Cupid maintained eye contact while he slid his hand up her thigh and between her legs. Her eyes widened and she started to pant when he stroked her vulva and thumbed her clit.

“You will go back to the bedroom, remove your tunic and be kneeling in the middle of the bed when I get back.” He instructed as he flicked the nub of her clitoris.

“Y-y-yes my lord,” she stuttered. Then, she ran her tongue over her lips.

“Go,” he set her on her feet and turned her to the door. He could here her little moan as her nether lips rubbed together when she walked. Payback had started.

Jessie managed to give Bliss a soft brush of her hand over his curls as he raced back into the room. Cupid had regained enough of his control to will his flesh down and clothe himself is his customary black.

Just as Cupid was pushing himself out of his chair, Bliss took another flapping leap to land solidly in his father’s arms.

“Do you think that the Naiads will help me find shells?”

“I think that they will help you find the biggest and prettiest shells there are to be found,” the God of War smiled down at his son.

“Oh, good!” Bliss wrapped his chubby little arms and legs around him and clung like ivy.

Cupid felt a little guilty about the time he was spending away from his son, but if he wanted to bind that mortal to him, he needed to concentrate on her and he couldn’t do that when Bliss was fluttering around the temple. The Godling of Mischief couldn’t help but be in the way, his very nature demanded it. And, it looked like his son really liked the mortal; his dog was thoroughly infatuated, so having her around would be a bonus for all of them. In fact, the Beast of Battle looked like he wanted to follow her out of the room.

Oh, no, his dog was not going watch them fuck.

“Greagus, go outside!” He ordered firmly.

The huge slayer of men all but pouted as he slowly lumbered out of the room. Cupid sighed and transported his pet into the middle of a pitched battle between some barbarians and the Sovereign’s army. There, that should keep him occupied. Then he focused on his son.

“Alright Little Hawk, let’s go see Grandpa.”


The God of War materialized in his father’s temple while some of the hearts and romance members of his family were still eating their breakfast. The three deities looked up and smiled, Strife’s was warm, and the two senior deities, decidedly wicked.

“’Morning, Blissy!” Ares grinned. The little godling squirmed to get down and ran to his grandfather.

“Are we really going to the sea, Grandpa?” Bliss asked excitedly as he climbed into the God of Love’s lap.

“Yeah, we’re going to play with the Naiads and mermaids today, kiddo.” Ares settled his grandson on his lap.

“Is Aunt Hecate going to be there?”

“I’m pretty sure that she will show up.” The Goddess of the Sea was a sucker for children, so she probably wouldn’t pass up the chance to visit while her women played with them on the beach.

Eris looked up from her breakfast to smirk at her nephew, but his attention was already on Strife. The two lovers were locking eyes. Strife was giving the God of War a smoldering look, filling his eyes with the memories of what they had done yesterday. Whew! It looked like the two of them were going to set the breakfast table on fire. It did a mother’s heart good to see her spell working so well.

Cupid physically tore his gaze away from his lover’s eyes to focus on his son; who was already babbling about finding Jessie in his father’s bed to his grandfather.
Ares looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. Damn. There was going to be talk about this. Jessie was the first lover that he’d brought home since his divorce. And it was *definitely* out of character for Cupid to bring a mortal, even a favored one to the House of War and let them visit with his son.

“Daddy, is Jessie going to be there when I get back?” Bliss looked over at his dad.

“I am going to try to keep her with us Bliss.” Cupid promised.

There was no need to feign the shock that came to the faces of the God and Goddess of Love’s faces when they heard that. To boldly state that in front of his father and aunt, was a move that no one had anticipated.

“In fact, Little Hawk, Jessie isn’t the only one that is going to be at our house more often.” Cupid looked over at Strife and all but dared him to dispute his words.

The God of Joy grinned and began languidly eating a banana in a way that made his mother almost burst with pride. Luckily, the action was completely lost on the little God of Mischief, but it certainly wasn’t lost on Cupid. Why were his leathers constantly chafing these days? What was it; ‘Lovers tease Cupid Day’? First Jessie and now Strife getting him hard with his baby boy around so that he couldn’t immediately retaliate, or have them make good on their innuendos.

Then, Cupid got an evil grin on his face that all the adult gods recognized. Cupid was about to get something that he wanted and was letting everyone at the table know it. Strife felt the banana catch in his throat. Cupid walked around the table to kiss his son’s forehead.

“Have fun today and mind your grandfather.” He told his son.

“I will, Daddy.” Bliss promised.

Cupid walked around to stand behind Strife. The God of War curled his hand around his lover’s nape and looked over at the Goddess of Love. It was time to make a certain fantasy a reality.

“He’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.” Cupid informed Eris and then he flashed them both out of the room.

The Gods of Love exchanged a look of triumph.

“Why did Daddy take cousin Strife with him?”

“I’ll explain it to you later, Sweetie.” Eris couldn’t keep the satisfaction out of her voice. Much, much later, like when your voice changes, she thought.

Now, maybe she would get some grandkids of her own; at the very least, Strife wasn’t going to be pouting about Cupid anymore. Telling someone not to wait up at the *breakfast* table was just priceless.

The Goddess of Love smiled like a cat that had a dish of cream at its feet and a feather dangling from its whiskers.


Cupid flashed them into his study by the desk where it all began. He hauled Strife up as gravity let the other god know that there wasn’t a chair under his butt anymore. Strife’s startled squawk was swallowed as the God of War brought their mouths together for a devouring kiss.

Mmm, bananas. Strife had regained his balance and wound his arms around his lover’s waist, returning the kiss with interest. Cupid could feel the other god’s cock hardening and the leather of *both* their trousers sliding against each other. The friction was interesting, but the leather, uncomfortably binding.

Strife tore his mouth away.

“Cupid, I have fond memories of that desk, but you have what I’m sure is a perfectly acceptable bed.” The God of Joy attempted to put a little distance between them. Cupid let his face get a couple of inches away, but kept their bodies in full contact.

“I do, and it has a naked mortal waiting in it.” He nipped the other god’s chin.

“You’re going to share your mortal with me?” Strife didn’t attempt to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

“No, I’m going to fuck you both.” Cupid clarified.

“Oh,” Strife nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I’m up for it.”

Cupid deliberately looked down.

“Yeah, you certainly are.”



********Don’t worry. I’ve already started on the next chapter. This just seemed like a good stopping point. I know, I’m a terrible tease. I wish that I could say that I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t mean it.



DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any characters of the Hercules/Xenaverse; they belong to USA and Renaissance Pictures. I own Jessie and her family. Just wait until you meet the rest of them! Be afraid; be very afraid.

WARNING: Cliffhanger ending! But I hope you’ll read it anyway.

The Love of War, Chapter Sixteen:

Strife felt that if he concentrated hard enough, he could get his eyes to open. He was sure, that given enough time, he could do it. He just wasn’t sure that he could do it anytime soon. He ached in places that hadn’t ached since his very first orgy. That time, it had taken a whole room full of people, a mixture of gods, immortals and demigods to cause this ache and exhaustion. This time, it had only taken one.

Did he really want to keep this up? Oh, yeahhhh…

The question was; could he keep it up?

A twitch from his groin at the memory of last night’s encounter gave him an enthusiastic yes! After the last round, he hadn’t been sure that he’d get feeling back there by morning. The fact that his immortal, yet tired body was trying to raise in salute was reason enough to think that Unc had been right; a frontal attack had been the way to go.

He could kick himself for not realizing it on his own. He could have been aching like this much, much sooner. And, a lot more often.

Strife spared a thought for the mortal currently residing in his lover’s residence. If *he* was this tired after one extended session with the God of War, she must be truly exhausted. Maybe he’d go ask his mother about a potion for Jessie that would restore her strength. She could probably use it; heck, so could he. He really didn’t want to dwell on the thought of how he was sharing a lover with said mortal.

Okay, concentrate. You *can* open your eyes, you *can* move. The question is; do you really want to? Yes.

Okay, any minute now, you’ll do it. Just roll over and sit up.

There was nothing graceful about his flop onto his back. He recognized the feeling of the bed under himself as his own. Being able to identify your location by the feeling of the bed under you was a skill that Uncle Ares had taught him centuries ago. It was a useful trick to have when you weren’t sure where you were and when you couldn’t remember how you got there. He noticed that someone had carefully pulled the covers up to his chin so his aching semi erection slid deliciously against his silk sheets. Cupid must have brought him back, because there was no way he would have gotten here on his own. Had his lover carefully tucked him in? Oh, it was nice to think so, he mused.

He needed some ambrosia. Ambrosia would be just the thing to give his body some nourishment and energy. Now the problem was that he would have to move to get it. He would have to actually get out of bed and move. The mere thought of the effort involved was tiring. Wait a minute; he was a god, wasn’t he? He could just conjure some up and have a mini breakfast in bed. No need to move outside the comfort of his own sheets. He could have his morning cup and then go down to eat with the rest of the family. What a night. It had caused him to forget the most basic of skills, but had given him such a delicious soreness all over.

He conjured a goblet of the food of the gods and forced his eyes open. He plucked it out of the air and downed it with one swallow. Its warmth spread through his tired body, pushing the exhaustion before it like a wave. The velvety warmth coursed through his extremities until he felt like he could move without stumbling. It was a pity that he couldn’t give this stuff to Jessie; it would perk her right up. She was probably feeling like she could use it right about now.

Strife banished the cup with a thought and rolled out of bed. It wasn’t the most adroit exit from a bed that he’d ever done, in fact, if his uncle had seen it, Ares would have probably given him a serious critique about it. Unc would have shook his finger and reminded him that it just wouldn’t *do* to appear less than elegant when you were exiting a bed. The House of Love prided itself on its sophistication when it came to the arts of love and a less than nimble exit from a bed was a reflection of poor manners. Ares wouldn’t have cared that the bed Strife was leaving was his own or that it was currently empty but for him, one should never stop practicing. In this House, you just had to look good all the time.

Strife sighed. Why was he thinking about Ares now? Maybe it was because his son had fucked him into unconsciousness. That fact had smarted a little. When was the last time that *he* had been the one left limp and exhausted? His mind stretched backward over the legion of lovers that he’d had over the years. Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, but no one lover came to mind. An orgy: yes. But no one lover had done this. That fact made him all the more determined to make interludes with Cupid a regular thing.

Strife clothed himself in his favorite cream leather breeches and a matching sleeveless linen tunic and went down to breakfast with the family. He even managed to walk more or less without wincing.

What a night. What a wonderful, blissful, exhausting night.

His mom and uncle were already up. They were sitting at the table with the usual magnificent feast spread out across it. When you could conjure up anything that you wanted to eat without worrying about preparation time or your gut spreading, it made for a wonderful mixture of food for your enjoyment.

Strife managed to walk to the table in his usual graceful glide. He did flash in a plump pillow onto his chair an instant before he sat down. He’d be another half an hour recovering at least. Both Eris and Ares flashed him a knowing look with almost identical smirks on their faces. He managed to bite back a groan and resisted the urge to thump his head on the table. Unc wouldn’t have had to tell his mother what her son was doing last night; she would have been getting the same power surge while he and Cupid were squirming on the desk. Correction; while Cupid was growling and *he* was squirming. It took an act of will not to blush. He furiously fought it down, he hadn’t blushed in centuries.

Demos and Phobos were busy eating and missed the expression on the parental unit’s faces. Good, he wanted to put off the teasing that would eventually start when Pleasure and Passion realized what he and their big brother were doing. Strife carefully poured himself a goblet of milk and heaped a plate with fruit and oatcakes.

“I wonder who the Big Bad has over at his temple,” Phobos wondered aloud.

“Yeah I’ve been getting some sharp spikes of power from the House of War too,” Demos nodded. “I haven’t gotten anything like this from Big Brother since he and Psycho started up.”

“And this feels *way* different from what I got when those two were going at it.” Phobos grinned.

“No joke! Last time felt all spiny and dangerous, like I was trying to swallow a sea urchin whole, this time feels a little dark, but *really* good.” Demos grinned.

“Oh, yeahhh,” his twin purred. “And whoever he was doing yesterday felt warm and honey sweet.”

“Man, Big Bro is really getting some!”

“I’m almost jealous!”

Strife hid his expression behind his cup, yesterday would have been *him* that their brother had been doing, and evidently he and Jessie felt different enough to comment on. He gritted his teeth like he was trying to strain his milk and waited for Unc to start teasing him.

“It’s about time your brother started to work off that excess energy. Maybe now he’ll stop stirring up so many battles on earth.” Ares calmly popped a grape into his mouth.

“Yeah, Dad,” Demos agreed. “Conflict between mortals has really been on the rise for the last few years.”

“Just goes to show what can happen when you let things build up like that.” Eris shrugged and peeled a banana. “It just isn’t healthy.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that with us, do you Auntie?” Demos smiled.

“Oh yeah, you two are a veritable picture of health and well being.” Eris rolled her eyes and swallowed the whole banana in a maneuver that took her priestesses years to accomplish.

“Happy and well adjusted: that’s us.” Phobos grinned, eyeing the way his aunt was eating her breakfast. Hadn’t she just done a workshop with her temple in Marathon? Maybe he should pop down for a visit, maybe arrange for some of his own people to take lessons?

“How about you, Cuz,” Demos questioned, looking over at Strife, his cousin had the loose and yet slightly stiff look of someone who had been active the night before.

“What about me?” Strife looked up from his plate and at his extremely blonde cousin. The look in the other god’s face let him know that he wasn’t going to be able to deny his having sex last night.

“Are you happy and well adjusted?”

“Oh, yeah,” he purred, letting his eyes close into slits. The expression on his face let the duo in front of him that he wasn’t letting anything fester. “I got ‘adjusted’ last night.”

“Anyone we know?” Phobos queried.

“None of your beeswax,” Strife languidly lifted a strawberry to his lips and made a show of biting down slowly. He licked the juice off his lips, letting his eyes glaze in remembrance of Cupid’s kisses. Coital satisfaction spread through his body and he let both of his cousins get a power buzz from his memories of the night before.

“Damn Cuz, don’t you want to share?” Demos pouted and exchanged a look with his twin. The God of Joy was brimming with satisfaction. “Looks like whoever it was gave you a Tartarus of a night.”

“You wouldn’t even lend me your comb, would you?”

“Well, no,” Demos admitted. “But that’s different!”

“Oh, this is different all right. And no, I won’t be ‘loaning’ this one to you two.” No way was he loaning his lover to those two. Not that they would want him once they found out who it was. And Cupid wouldn’t take to be passed around. If there was any passing to be done, it would be the God of War that would be the passer, not the ‘passee’.

He could picture several millennia of being teased by the Terrible Two in front of him once they realized who was ‘warm and honey sweet’. Centuries of jokes about how ‘butch’ he liked his male lovers, of how black leather and spikes turned him on (at least when Cupid was wearing them), and how ‘the Big Bad’ was doing the ‘Wimp of Joy.’

The last of the effects of the night before were leaving him, but enough remained to remind him of exactly why he was going to take everything they dished out with a grin and a waggled eyebrow, because if he could have this on a regular basis, it would be worth it.

“Damn, Strife, you’re mean, sitting there all smug and satisfied without even giving us a hint of who it was.” Phobos pouted. The expression didn’t have the same punch as when Eris did it, but it came very close. It was plain the Passion had been practicing.

“That lower lip can jut out far enough for a bird to land on, I’m still not tellin’.” Strife laughed.

“We’ll just have to sneak around until we find out,” Demos declared.

“Go ahead, it’ll make for some laughs, ‘cause you two have all the subtlety of rabid rhino on an iced pond.” Strife said around a mouthful of pita bread.

“He’s got you there, boys.” Ares grinned.

“Hey! We can be subtle!” Phobos objected.

“Compared to you two, stampeding centaurs are subtle.” Eris snorted.

“Minotaurs in a pottery shop,” Strife offered.

“A greased hydra,” Ares’ grin looked like it would split his faced.

“Wait! I’ve got another one-a drunken giant with his sandals untied.” Strife laughed.

“An Artemisian Virgin after drinking a love potion,” Eris giggled.

“A love struck Siren,” Ares wiggled his eyebrows.

“Cousin Xena at a bridal shower,” Strife gestured with his goblet, causing some milk to spill over.

“Hey! We didn’t come here to be abused.” Demos protested.

“Where do you usually go? The Silken Barbarian, or the Velvet Whip,” Strife asked with a cheeky grin.

Both of the blonde deities in front of him put on a lofty expression that they had probably learned from their mother, Aphrodite, and flashed out.

“So, I take it that the frontal approach worked,” Ares inquired with a raised eyebrow as he took a big swallow from his own goblet.

“Oh yeah, Unc, in so many ways,” Strife gave a long sigh of remembered pleasure. He was grateful that his uncle had waited until his cousins had left to ask.

“Does he still respect you this morning?” Eris chuckled.

“If he doesn’t, I’ll just try harder next time.”

Cupid woke for the second time that morning, wishing again that Strife was in sight to gloat over. Jessie was still lying in a boneless pile and Bliss was once again cuddled up with her. One of her arms was flung out, but the other one was curled around his sleeping son. Bliss was lying in the hollow of her shoulder, sucking on his fist in his sleep. Jessie must have been tired, because she hadn’t moved around enough to twist the tunic she was wearing up, she was still mostly covered by it.

Greagus, sensing that his master was awake, took this opportunity to shove his very large and wet nose across the bed. Unlike his lover, Cupid’s tunic had twisted up and his dog’s snout made contact with a bare buttock. Cupid hissed out a breath and looked over his shoulder. Greagus’ thick tail was wagging wildly, letting his master know exactly what he needed. The God of War snapped his fingers and the bedroom door opened. Greagus gave a happy yip and trotted outside to do what all dogs, even immortal ones, needed to do in the mornings.

The little doggie sound woke Jessie. She was sleeping a lot lighter than she had when she first arrived. Apparently, waking up with her hands tied had taught a little bit more ‘situational awareness’. It was true what they said, you learn quicker with a spanking than without one.

The fact that she had enjoyed that spanking apparently hadn’t impacted on the lesson at all.

Once again she looked at him over his son’s head with a smile, and then she yawned, delicately covering her mouth with the back of her free hand.

“I guess that I was more tired than I thought,” she whispered.

“I haven’t been letting you get a lot of sleep.” He whispered back.

He didn’t want to wake Bliss, he wanted to enjoy this moment for a little longer. This is what he wanted in his life; passionate and willing lovers, a beautiful son, a lazy morning now and again, and good battles for a power buzz.

But, with the timing that any child perfects, Bliss’ eyes fluttered open. He stretched, scraping his sharp little toenails along Jessie’s thigh, and rubbing his feathers across his daddy’s stomach. Jessie let out a little hiss, but had no other reaction. Then she sighed, and nuzzled Bliss’ blonde curls. Cupid was just glad that his son wasn’t waking with his normal energy; otherwise he’d be bouncing on the bed.

“She’s softer than you are Daddy.” Bliss murmured.

“In so many ways,” Cupid grinned. Jessie wrinkled her nose at him.

“Did you have any more bad dreams,” Jessie’s voice was still a little thick with sleep.

“Nope,” the little godling yawned. Evidently, Bliss felt like his daddy and didn’t want to end this rare way of waking up, because he didn’t make any move to climb out of bed and Jessie’s arms.

It wouldn’t last.

“Daddy, I have to pee.”

“Then you’re going to have to get up.”

“Don’t wanna,” Bliss scowled, his little face was scrunching up.

“You haven’t had an ‘accident’ for a while, Little Hawk. Do you want to now?”

“No,” Bliss gave a childish put upon sigh.

“Then you’re going to have to get up.” Cupid pointed out. He couldn’t blame his son for not wanting to move. Jessie’s breasts *were* a lot softer than his own chiseled chest. And while Cupid had had no plan to let Jessie have any contact with Bliss when this had all started, now that he planned to keep her, he had no problem with seeing his baby boy and his mortal cuddled up together.

Bliss gave another childish pout, but scrabbled off the bed. Jessie giggled when Bliss’ twisting around caused his wings to brush against her body. Bliss’ wing feathers were still a little softer than his father’s, but his primaries were still firm enough to hold their shape as they brushed up against the woman in the bed with them. And, evidently Jessie was a little ticklish. Hmmm, that was good to know. Sensitive skin could be an asset, especially now that he planned to keep her.

Bliss dashed out of the room just as soon as his feet touched carpet. He’d used his wings to get greater distance as he hopped off the bed and out the door to the privy.

Jessie indulged in another long stretch with a deep inhale. The sight of her chest lifting and expanding was enough to get him hard again. He snaked out a lazy arm to pull her over to him and indulge in a long morning kiss.

Jessie unaccountably fought him for a moment. He pulled back enough to raise an eyebrow in inquiry.

“My breath must be awful,” she explained as she tried to lean away from him.

Cupid grinned and shook his head. Mortals could be so twitchy at the oddest things. He conjured a goblet and filled it with a clear liquid that smelled of mint. He tipped into her mouth for a generous swallow. Jessie obediently drank it down. And when Cupid sent the goblet away, she ran an experimental tongue over her suddenly clean teeth.

“Hmm, that beats brushing any day,” she leaned forward and gave him a long and thorough kiss. It was the first time that she had initiated any contact between them. When she felt his erection, she rubbed herself against him. She broke the kiss to nibble along his throat.

“I don’t think that we have enough time to do anything before your son gets back,” she murmured against his skin.

“Then why are you doing this?” he growled. He knew that she was right. Bliss would be back just as soon as he drained his bladder.

“Because I can,” Cupid felt her smile against his skin.

He gave a soundless snarl and pulled her flush against him. She smiled mischievously up into his hungry eyes and undulated against him, getting him harder when she *knew* that his baby boy would be back as soon as he emptied his bladder. She purred and slid one leg up and over his hip, bringing herself even closer so that the thin fabric of their tunics were the only thing separating his cock from the soft haven of her body. Jessie deliberately rubbed her already moist vulva along his needy flesh and let her hips give a little circle. Then, she cocked her head and smirked when the rapid patter of little feet started to come down the hallway. She slid away with a smile and a small little glide of her tongue along her lips.

Oh, she was going to pay. And he was going to take so much joy in collecting.

Bliss took another running jump with a couple of flaps of his wings to land on the bed, right in between them. Damn, the kid was always on target. Jessie giggled as Bliss’ wings once again brushed against her skin.

“What’s for breakfast?” Bliss once again settled against Jessie, but this time Cupid knew that his son was too awake to drop back off.

Like another part of his anatomy. He settled the thick covers over his aroused flesh.

“That’s a very good question,” Jessie smiled over at Cupid. “So, ‘Dad’, what’s for breakfast?”

Greagus took this opportunity to trot back into the bedroom, tail wagging ‘hello!’; ensuring that there were way too many beings around to make his mortal pay for her teasing. Greagus took up position at the foot of the bed and all but vibrated with energy. Jessie rolled over onto her side, propped her head up on one arm and waggled her eyebrows at him, all the while cuddling his son against her. Two sets of blue eyes and one set of red all twinkled merrily at him.

Cupid sighed, he knew when he had to retreat and plan another attack. He willed his cock to soften so that his tunic wouldn’t tent up when he got out of bed. There was no way that he was going to put on his leathers just yet. He would have to before he took Bliss back to the House of Love, or face questions from Ares and Eris. But there was no way he’d fit comfortably into them just yet.

“Okay, let’s go eat.” He said with a wry twist of his lips.


Family breakfast with Jessie was definitely a welcome experience. She was patient with his babbling son and he could see her sneaking sausages to his dog. Greagus had taken up position on the floor between his master and the newest addition to his House. How the Dog of War could have such a hopeful expression on his face and still seem so fierce was a mystery. Cupid knew that if Jessie hadn’t scooted her chair fully under the table, Greagus would have dropped his head into her lap and done his best to look pitiful and starving. But, it seemed that such tactics weren’t needed; he was getting tidbits without them.

Bliss was talking excitedly about the fort he and his uncles had made in what Cupid knew was the Orgy room. Bliss didn’t know what the room was used for yet, he only knew that the soft floor filled with pillows was perfect to play in.

As a number of gods and demigods knew intimately, it just depended on what your definition of ‘play’ was.

Jessie was eating with good appetite, letting Cupid know that the platter that he’d left for her hadn’t been quite enough. That, or Jessie had learned to take her meals when she could.

Cupid frowned, he didn’t want her getting too full, or she wouldn’t be up to the vigorous fucking that he was going to give her later. Then, he took a look at what was on her plate. She wasn’t eating anything heavy; her plate was full of fruit and cheese, nothing that would lie like lead later. Or make her sick with physical exertion. That was good, she was thinking ahead. It looked like the only sausages she was picking up were the ones that she was feeding to his dog.

He lingered over his morning ambrosia and watched the other two at the table.

Bliss was talking excitedly about his experiment with Auntie Eris’ finger paints and how his wings had looked with stripes and Jessie was laughing and asking how he’d kept the paints from mixing. Bliss’ little face scrunched in thought before he admitted that the paints *had* mixed, but it had looked really great. All with his mouth full of honey cake.

This domestic scene was almost enough to distract him from his anger at his ex wife. Zeus knows that the last domestic scene with both his son and his mortal had been enough to bring him up short and his anger to fizzle out a bit. Not go away completely, but enough to shove to the back of the chariot.

He was still simmering about Psyche; that traitorous bitch. But there wasn’t a whole lot he could do at the moment without wasting the time that he had with Jessie. His ex wasn’t going anywhere, but Jessie might if he didn’t find a way to tie her to his House. He shoved his rage about his favorite general’s attempted assassination to the back of his mind and concentrated on what was right in front of him.

Surprisingly, he wanted Strife at the table too. Cupid could readily imagine the God of Joy tossing grapes across the table at Jessie or Bliss and Jessie taking the maternal role of halting the flying of food while they were eating it. He could all but see mischievous expressions on the faces of his son and lover when confronted by the ‘mom’, and Jessie throwing up her hands in exasperation while Greagus waited for food to fall on the floor.

How could he be getting so soft and hard at the same time? When had the God of War wanted such a scene at his breakfast table? When had the thought of having two of his lovers in his home with his child become such a desired image? He put aside his mental musings to concentrate on what was in front of him.

Jessie was laughing again, causing her breasts to jiggle a little bit and just the sight of them swaying was enough to harden his semi erect cock. He furiously got it back under control because if he didn’t, then he really would be going to his father’s in his loose tunic rather than his leathers. Ares had already seen him out of his leathers a couple of days ago. Showing up at another temple in any thing less than his usual studded black would cause speculation for decades.

Bliss was getting full, he could tell. But he was prolonging his time at the table because of the novelty of having Jessie there. Cupid couldn’t blame his son for wanting to spend time with her, but if he knew Ares, the God of Love was waiting for his grandson with plans sparking in his eyes.

“Okay, Little Hawk, your granddad is waiting for you. He said something about taking you to swim with the Naiads today.” Cupid mentally sent those plans to his father and received a mental ‘okay’. Bliss loved to swim and the Naiads would love to see the little godling. “Why don’t you go grab your ball to toss at the beach?”

“’Kay, daddy,” Bliss nodded and climbed down from his chair. Then he fluttered his wings up so that he could brush a kiss against Jessie’s cheek. Jessie’s eyes lit and she brought her hand to her cheek while she watched the little one run from the room.

“Are you finished?” he nodded at her plate.

“Yes, my lord.” Jessie answered.

“Come here,” he ordered and motioned to his lap.

Jessie obediently rose and came to his chair. He pulled her down and across his thighs. He slid his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and held her head still. Cupid maintained eye contact while he slid his hand up her thigh and between her legs. Her eyes widened and she started to pant when he stroked her vulva and thumbed her clit.

“You will go back to the bedroom, remove your tunic and be kneeling in the middle of the bed when I get back.” He instructed as he flicked the nub of her clitoris.

“Y-y-yes my lord,” she stuttered. Then, she ran her tongue over her lips.

“Go,” he set her on her feet and turned her to the door. He could here her little moan as her nether lips rubbed together when she walked. Payback had started.

Jessie managed to give Bliss a soft brush of her hand over his curls as he raced back into the room. Cupid had regained enough of his control to will his flesh down and clothe himself is his customary black.

Just as Cupid was pushing himself out of his chair, Bliss took another flapping leap to land solidly in his father’s arms.

“Do you think that the Naiads will help me find shells?”

“I think that they will help you find the biggest and prettiest shells there are to be found,” the God of War smiled down at his son.

“Oh, good!” Bliss wrapped his chubby little arms and legs around him and clung like ivy.

Cupid felt a little guilty about the time he was spending away from his son, but if he wanted to bind that mortal to him, he needed to concentrate on her and he couldn’t do that when Bliss was fluttering around the temple. The Godling of Mischief couldn’t help but be in the way, his very nature demanded it. And, it looked like his son really liked the mortal; his dog was thoroughly infatuated, so having her around would be a bonus for all of them. In fact, the Beast of Battle looked like he wanted to follow her out of the room.

Oh, no, his dog was not going watch them fuck.

“Greagus, go outside!” He ordered firmly.

The huge slayer of men all but pouted as he slowly lumbered out of the room. Cupid sighed and transported his pet into the middle of a pitched battle between some barbarians and the Sovereign’s army. There, that should keep him occupied. Then he focused on his son.

“Alright Little Hawk, let’s go see Grandpa.”


The God of War materialized in his father’s temple while some of the hearts and romance members of his family were still eating their breakfast. The three deities looked up and smiled, Strife’s was warm, and the two senior deities, decidedly wicked.

“’Morning, Blissy!” Ares grinned. The little godling squirmed to get down and ran to his grandfather.

“Are we really going to the sea, Grandpa?” Bliss asked excitedly as he climbed into the God of Love’s lap.

“Yeah, we’re going to play with the Naiads and mermaids today, kiddo.” Ares settled his grandson on his lap.

“Is Aunt Hecate going to be there?”

“I’m pretty sure that she will show up.” The Goddess of the Sea was a sucker for children, so she probably wouldn’t pass up the chance to visit while her women played with them on the beach.

Eris looked up from her breakfast to smirk at her nephew, but his attention was already on Strife. The two lovers were locking eyes. Strife was giving the God of War a smoldering look, filling his eyes with the memories of what they had done yesterday. Whew! It looked like the two of them were going to set the breakfast table on fire. It did a mother’s heart good to see her spell working so well.

Cupid physically tore his gaze away from his lover’s eyes to focus on his son; who was already babbling about finding Jessie in his father’s bed to his grandfather.
Ares looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. Damn. There was going to be talk about this. Jessie was the first lover that he’d brought home since his divorce. And it was *definitely* out of character for Cupid to bring a mortal, even a favored one to the House of War and let them visit with his son.

“Daddy, is Jessie going to be there when I get back?” Bliss looked over at his dad.

“I am going to try to keep her with us Bliss.” Cupid promised.

There was no need to feign the shock that came to the faces of the God and Goddess of Love’s faces when they heard that. To boldly state that in front of his father and aunt, was a move that no one had anticipated.

“In fact, Little Hawk, Jessie isn’t the only one that is going to be at our house more often.” Cupid looked over at Strife and all but dared him to dispute his words.

The God of Joy grinned and began languidly eating a banana in a way that made his mother almost burst with pride. Luckily, the action was completely lost on the little God of Mischief, but it certainly wasn’t lost on Cupid. Why were his leathers constantly chafing these days? What was it; ‘Lovers tease Cupid Day’? First Jessie and now Strife getting him hard with his baby boy around so that he couldn’t immediately retaliate, or have them make good on their innuendos.

Then, Cupid got an evil grin on his face that all the adult gods recognized. Cupid was about to get something that he wanted and was letting everyone at the table know it. Strife felt the banana catch in his throat. Cupid walked around the table to kiss his son’s forehead.

“Have fun today and mind your grandfather.” He told his son.

“I will, Daddy.” Bliss promised.

Cupid walked around to stand behind Strife. The God of War curled his hand around his lover’s nape and looked over at the Goddess of Love. It was time to make a certain fantasy a reality.

“He’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.” Cupid informed Eris and then he flashed them both out of the room.

The Gods of Love exchanged a look of triumph.

“Why did Daddy take cousin Strife with him?”

“I’ll explain it to you later, Sweetie.” Eris couldn’t keep the satisfaction out of her voice. Much, much later, like when your voice changes, she thought.

Now, maybe she would get some grandkids of her own; at the very least, Strife wasn’t going to be pouting about Cupid anymore. Telling someone not to wait up at the *breakfast* table was just priceless.

The Goddess of Love smiled like a cat that had a dish of cream at its feet and a feather dangling from its whiskers.


Cupid flashed them into his study by the desk where it all began. He hauled Strife up as gravity let the other god know that there wasn’t a chair under his butt anymore. Strife’s startled squawk was swallowed as the God of War brought their mouths together for a devouring kiss.

Mmm, bananas. Strife had regained his balance and wound his arms around his lover’s waist, returning the kiss with interest. Cupid could feel the other god’s cock hardening and the leather of *both* their trousers sliding against each other. The friction was interesting, but the leather, uncomfortably binding.

Strife tore his mouth away.

“Cupid, I have fond memories of that desk, but you have what I’m sure is a perfectly acceptable bed.” The God of Joy attempted to put a little distance between them. Cupid let his face get a couple of inches away, but kept their bodies in full contact.

“I do, and it has a naked mortal waiting in it.” He nipped the other god’s chin.

“You’re going to share your mortal with me?” Strife didn’t attempt to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

“No, I’m going to fuck you both.” Cupid clarified.

“Oh,” Strife nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I’m up for it.”

Cupid deliberately looked down.

“Yeah, you certainly are.”



********Don’t worry. I’ve already started on the next chapter. This just seemed like a good stopping point. I know, I’m a terrible tease. I wish that I could say that I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t mean it.