Backward, Turn Backward

Backward, Turn Backward, 3/?
by Scribe

Promise

Cupid came out of the bathing chamber and paused in the hallway, hands on his hips as he looked up and down the corridor, trying to decide where to look next. He'd given the garden a thorough going over, even peering up into the trees--more than once he'd been ambushed by having a giggling Strife drop on him from a branch.

He paused, peeking into his bedroom, just to be sure that Strife hadn't popped in while he was searching. He hadn't. Cupid was beginning to get worried. After their talk yesterday, Strife had been very quiet. It wasn't a brooding silence, though--it was a 'don't bother me--I'm thinking' sort. Strife didn't say a word, but Cupid could almost hear the gears clicking in his mind.

It scared him a little. A lot of people on Earth--and most of the Olympians, too, for that matter--thought that Strife wasn't capable of extended concentration. They thought that he couldn't hold a train of thought for more than a few minutes without his mind bouncing off in some other direction. Ares knew differently--Strife had come up with some of the most intricate plans for sabotage and subterfuge in existence. And he could be patient, too. He could work carefully, giving tiny pushes and tweaks, for years, just to set up one perfect incident. Strife could DO detail. Cupid had seen him in 'plotting mode' before, and he was showing all the signs now.

What could it be that was absorbing him so? Years ago he'd been secretive about his work--it was part of the job. As his trust grew, he discussed it more and more with Cupid, expressing his growing trust. But when Cupid had done the 'dinar for your thoughts' bit that usually got him a smile and the information he wanted, Strife had just said that it was personal. That had hurt. Strife had seen it, and had immediately cuddled him, nipping and whispering till Cupid had been distracted from his worry.

*I shouldn't have given up--I should have pushed. It was obvious that he didn't WANT to be pushed, but I'm getting a bad feeling about this. Where haven't I looked?* There was nowhere in the temple he hadn't searched, so Strife wasn't here. Cupid extended his mind, doing a quick sweep of the other most likely place--Ares' temple. Dad was there--with Joxer, and Cupid had to smile quickly at the warm burst of lust/love he got from the pair before he discreetly withdrew.

Not there, either. Time to start asking, and best to start at home.

Bliss was in one of the minor audience rooms. Cupid had made one of the walls smooth plaster, then spelled it so that Bliss could clean it with a thought. This was Bliss's own, personal sketchpad, and it was one of his favorite places. Priests and even random supplicants were often dragged into the room to admire the godling's latest creations.

Bliss was so involved with his creating that he didn't notice at first when his father entered the room. Cupid took a moment to just watch. Bliss was standing flat-footed, sturdy legs braced, using both hands to throw paint at the wall. The once pristine plaster was streaked and spattered with blobs and dribbles of paint in all the colors of the rainbow. It reminded Cupid of something he'd seen when he was silly enough to accept a drink from one of the Bacchae without first finding out what it was.

Bliss himself was wearing precious little less paint than the wall. He had flecks in his hair and on his wings, his legs were so spattered that it looked like he'd been walking through rainbow mud puddles, and he looked like he was wearing elbow length multi-colored gloves--WET gloves.

Bliss glanced back and saw Cupid, then waved a hand proudly at his work. "Look!"

Cupid nodded. "Wow, that's really something, son!" *though what, I have no idea.* "That's, uh..." *There's a lot of blue-green near the bottom. "Poseidon's palace, right?" Bliss shook his head. *Uh-oh. Well, there's a big yellow blob up there, and some brown things under it.* "Apollo driving his chariot?" Bliss giggled, shaking his head again. Cupid gave up. "What is it?"

"Pretty."

"Oh. Yeah, yeah--you're right. Bliss, baby, have you seen Daddy Strife lately?"

Bliss scooped up a fingerful of lavender and started to draw squiggles. "Uh-huh. He tol' me not to go outside till you came home an' said I could, an' not to eat more'n two honeycakes if I wanted a snack."

"Gadviadvice. Did he say where he was going?"

Orange spots were being delicately placed along the lavender squiggles. Cupid blinked. Those almost looked like some surreal type of flower. "Uh-huh."

Cupid took a deep breath, and kept his tone level. "Could you tell me where?"

Bliss scratched his head, leaving colored streaks through his hair. Cupid had a flash of random memory--Strife seeing Bliss like this and collapsing in laughter, swearing that he was going to inflict that look on an unsuspecting world as a 'fashion trend' in a couple of millennia. "Oh, sorry, Daddy! Stwife said to tell you that he hadda go see Gaia, an' he might not be back till late."

"Thanks, baby." Cupid dropped a kiss on Bliss's forehead, between a swatch of green and a smear of yellow. "But next time you have a message like that, tell me right away, okay?"

Bliss nodded. "Cause you worry 'bout Stwife 'most as much as you worry 'bout me, right?"

Cupid was silent for a moment, looking into his son's suddenly grave blue eyes. He sighed, then kissed him again. "And the mortals think Athena has the wisdom thing sewed up. I should be back in a little while. If you need anything, go to one of the priests, okay?"

Bliss rolled his eyes at this in what Strife called a 'duh!' expression. "Yes, Daddy. You gonna bring Stwife home, huh?"

"I... he's a grown man, Bliss. He can find his way home." Bliss just looked at him again, and *Oh, man, his eyes are so OLD sometimes.* "Yeah, I'll bring him home." Bliss nodded and smiled, sunshine breaking from behind clouds. Daddy had said it would be all right, so it would be all right. He went back to his picture, and Cupid flashed to Gaia's valley.

*****

Actually, he flashed to just outside the valley. It was just something she'd asked the Pantheon to do--walking into her personal domain rather than transporting. The energy surges startled her animals, and the more timid forest spirits. And sometimes some of the gods quite frankly didn't look were they were going. It was rumored that this request *Well, let's face it--order* was made after Zeus had materialized in the middle of a bed of sweet pea's that Gaia had been nursing along for some months. Still, Cupid was fairly sure that hadn't been the cause of the minor earthquake that had destroyed one of Zeus's favorite temples.

He appeared in a thick grove of trees, with the slow slope of the valley starting a few yards away. Despite his adherence to Gaia's rule, he still came as a rude shock to SOMEONE.

There was a nude couple embracing right in front of him, and they broke apart with a gasp. Before Cupid could reassure them that they had nothing to fear, they were gone. Cupid looked around quickly. In the direction that the youth had fled, he caught a glimpse of a smooth brown back sinking behind the rough bark of a young oak tree. He quickly looked around, and noted that the silvery bark of a birch sapling was almost the same shade as the hair of the girl who had disappeared. Tree spirits. He looked up and saw how the branches of the two trees stretched toward each other, intermingling, and said softly, "Way to go, kids. Sorry to intrude."

Cupid walked out of the trees and started down into the valley, making his way toward Gaia's cozy little cottage. He looked about as he went, careful not to stumble into flowerbeds, vegetable gardens, or herb patches. There were paths, but you had to pay attention. Gaia was nowhere in evidence, but her energy signature was strong, so she was here.

He was approaching the cottage when the door opened and she emerged, her arm around Strife's thin shoulders. She was taller than the Mischief God, and as she bent over him, her moonlight colored hair brushed his pale cheek. They were talking quietly. As Cupid neared, they both looked up, pale blue eyes and vibrant green. Cupid thought that Strife's expression was... Well, it wasn't settled, or peaceful, but there was a little less tension. Strife glanced up at Gaia, and she smiled down at him, giving him a brief squeeze. "Hello, Cupid. What a pleasant surprise! How long has it been?"

Cupid felt a twinge of guilt. *Exactly like she wants me to,* he thought ruefully. *She's the mother of us all, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that she knows just what buttons to push.* "You're right, Grandmother. I'll bring Bliss to visit you soon."

"Marvelous! There are always some fawns or rabbit kits about--he'll like them."

Strife spoke up, "I was just about to go home. Bliss is okay, huh?"

"Bliss is fine, he was just a little lax about giving me your message."

"Um, yeah. I suppose I should have left you a note. I was just kind of distracted." He looked up at Gaia, with an unspoken question in his eyes.

She held out her hand, and two scrolls appeared on her palm. Not even raising her voice, she said, "Hermes?"

There was a silver flash, and the Messenger of the Gods appeared before her, bowing. "Lady?"

"The one with the black ribbon is for Ares, the silver one for Zeus. That should arrange everything. You may tell them that if they have any questions..." she smiled, "or objections, they can speak to me--if they think it will do any good." Hertucktucked the scrolls into the pouch at his belt, bowed to her again, tossed Cupid and Strife a friendly, curious look, and disappeared. Gaia smiled. "Lovely boy, even if he IS an awful liar." She looked at Strife, and lowered her voice. "Would you like me to speak to him for you?"

Strife's eyes darted to Cupid, and the Love God knew that he was the one in question. "No, thanks. I think I'd better be the one." He rose up and kissed her soft cheek. "Thanks. You don't know what this means to me."

"I think I do, dear. Now go on--you'll want as much of this evening as you can get."

He stepped away from Gaia and took Cupid's hand. "C'mon, Feathers. Bliss might decide he wants to branch out if we don't get home pretty soon."

*****

Strife knew children. They caught Bliss just before he started to, under the horrified eyes of a number of priests, 'decorate' Daddy's throne in the main audience chamber. Strife, unmindful of paint smears, scooped he ghe giggling little boy and slung him up on his shoulders. As he carried Bliss off to the bathing chamber, being steered by Bliss's firm grip in his hair, he told the child to try to get the streaks of color distributed evenly.

Cupid was eager to find out what Strife had been up to--was STILL up to, but he wasn't going to discuss it in front of Bliss. Olympus was full of stress and intrigues, and there'd be plenty of time for his son to have to deal with them later. Let him just be a child for as long as he could.

When he got to the bathing chamber, Strife had filled the large pool with steaming, fragrant bubbles. Cupid was just in time to see him standing beside it, saying, "Okay, remember, tuck your head and stick your arms straight over it, right?"

"Right!" Bliss thrust his arms toward the ceiling, hands close together and arrowed.

"One... two..." Strife suddenly bent, pitching the squealing boy into the water. Bliss knifed through the bubbles in a dive that would have made ter ter nymph proud. He broke surface again, sweeping his arms so that a spray of water and foam lashed Strife from the waist down. "Ow! Sneak attack! This means war!" In a blink, Strife was naked and pouncing into the pool after Bliss.

Cupid watched them from the doorway as they wrestled, splashed, and ducked. Strife always had better luck getting Bliss to bathe, making a game of it--but Cupecogecognized a stalling tactic when he saw it. Strife COULD have put Bliss in the shell tub, running the water up around his waist. It would have been safe to leave him alone, and Cupid could have taken him aside for a talk. Now there was no way they could leave Bliss alone till bath time was over.

Strife waded to the side of the pool and rested his forearms on the tile rim, setting his chin on them. "C'mon in, Birdboy--the water's fine." He wiggled his eyebrows. "And so are you." Cupid shook his head, but he smiled as he stripped off his clothes and joined his husband and son in the bath.

The next half hour was spent in wet pleasantries. Cupid received a foam beard from his son, who made the scary declaration that it made him look like Zeus. Strife squatted in the water and allowed Bliss to give him a pair of bubble horns that everyone agreed were becoming, but didn't really make him look like Bacchus.

Luckily Bliss was only allowed water-soluble paint, and he was finally clean. Cupid and Strife dried themselves while the little boy pranced and flapped on the tiles, vibrating his wings till the feathers were so puffed out that he resembled a snowball. Then they had to preen and smooth the wings till they were shapely and smooth again, listening as Bliss chattered about his day.

Always before these quiet, domestic tasks had soothed Strife, bringing a look of contentment to his face. Now there was a melancholy in Strife's eyes that worried Cupid even more than all that had come before. It was like Strife was trying to make a memory--relishing something that he thought he might not have again.

Strife dressed himself in more casual clothes--soft, loose shirt and pants, and led Bliss back into the dining room, chattering with him about what he wanted for supper, teasing him by suggesting such things as deviled larks' tongues and jellied sea snails. Another delaying ic, ic, since Bliss usually had a quick, simple meal, unless there was some special occasion.

But he didn't try to push the issue. Strife held Bliss on his lap through the meal, occasionally tickling the child, or poking a choice bit of food into an obligingly opened mouth. Cupid picked at his own food, watching them. Every time he caught Strife's eyes he silently told him that he wasn't going to be able to use Bliss as a barrier for much longer. Strife strung things out for as long as he could, but finally the little godling was yawning and nodding, drooping against Strife's chest.

"Bedtime, baby boy," said Cupid. He crooked an eyebrow at Strife. "PAST bedtime, actually." He stood up and went over to Strife, holding out his arms. Strife passed Bliss up to his father, and Bliss snuggled in the crook of Cupid's arm, looping an arm around his father's neck. But when Strife went to lower his arms, Cupid caught his wrist in his free hand. "You want Daddy Strife to come say goodnight, too, don't you?"

"Uh-huh." Bliss's eyes were already closed, but he nodded, baby soft curls brushing his father's cheeks.

Strife didn't try to pull back as Cupid drew him to his feet, and he followed closely as they walked to the godling's room. Cupid tucked his son into bed, dropping a kiss on his cheek. Bliss murmured, "I love you," then, eyes still closed, held up his arms, fingers crooking. "Stwife?"

Strife bent down and kissed him, accepting a hug. "Blissy? Got something to tell you before you go to sleep." His eyes slid toward Cupid.

"Mm?" Bliss murmured.

"I'm gonna have to be gone for awhile." Cupid felt his stomach drop. "You see, Gaia needs me to help her out with some stuff--real important things, you know? I'm going to have to go stay with her."

"Uh? H' long? You be back for m' birthday?"

Strife was silent for a moment, and a chill settled over Cupid. Bliss's birthday was over two months away. Strife said, "Yeah, I think so. Probably."

Bliss's eyes slitted open. For him to manage that, as sleepy as he was, required an effort of supreme will. "You gonna SLEEP there?"

"Yeah, I'll have to."

"Daddy be lonely."

Strife bit his lip, looking at Cupid, who suddenly seemed to be carved of stone. "I know, baby. I'm sorry about that, but it can't be helped." Strife's eyes were pleading for understanding.

"I be lonely, too."

"Sweetheart," Strife whispered. He kissed the little boy, smoothing his feathers. "I WILL be back--I promise."

"'kay. Love you."

"Love you, too, kiddo." Cupid was watching him, his normally expressive face blank. The Love God turned without a word and left the room.

Strife sighed heavily. He was surprised to feel a little hand creep over his. "Stwife..."

Strife looked at Bliss in surprise. *The kid has to be talking in his sleep." "Yeah?"

"Don't worry. Daddy loves you--always an' forever an' ever."

"I think he's mad at me, honey." A minute shrug told Strife that this was negligable. A moment later there was a soft snore, and Strife knew that Bliss was well and truly asleep. Strife got up and padded out of the room, casting one last, lingering glance at the child who had accepted him as his second father, and who loved him without reservation or question. His heart swelled, and then he went down the hall to speak that child's father--the love of his life.

*****

Cupid was sitting on the bed, his back to the door, unlacing his boots when Strife came in. "Cupe?" Cupid didn't look around. He pulled off one boot and set it aside, starting on the second. "Aw, c'mon, Cupe. You aren't going to give me the silent treatment, are you?"

Cupid set aide the other boot. His voice was steady. "Real cute, hiding behind Bliss all evening."

"I just... I wanted him to have a good evening, since I'm gonna have to be gone so long."

"I see. Were you going to tell me, or was I just going to find a note?" Cupid felt Strife's pain, and, though he had been determined to remain strong, he couldn't help turning back to his lover. Strife looked so forlorn that he felt his anger melting away. He held out his arms, "Come here."

Strife didn't transport, but he might have, he moved so quickly. Cupid was holding him on his lap, wrapping him in his arms, pressing Strife's face to his shoulder. He just held him for a while, closing his eyes and feeling the living warmth that enclosed the spirit he loved. "Why do you have to go?"

"Gaia needs me for something--secret stuff."

"Bullshit." The word was tender. "Most of the world may buy into the whole blonde ditz airhead bit, but you know better. YOU told HER thank you."

Strife sighed. "Still secret stuff, Cupe. It... it's weird shit. There are so many things that could go wrong. Nothing fatal," he said quickly, "I don't think, anyway. But it's just COMPLICATED."

"This is about what you tme yme yesterday, isn't it?"

Strife was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "Yeah."

Cupid buried both hands in Strife's hair, on either side of his face, and tugged till Strife was looking him right in the eyes. "You'll be careful." It wasn't a question--it was an order, almost fierce.

"Yes, I will."

"Because I won't make it without you, Strife. I lost you once--I couldn't take it again."

Despite Cupid's grip in his hair, Strife leaned forward enough to brush his lips against Cupid's mouth. "Wouldn't do that to you, sweetheart."

Cupid sighed. This time it was he who laid his head on Strife's shoulder. "How long?"

Strife was rubbing his back gently, fingers working up between his wings, into the short, downy feathers that grew there. "I don't knowbe. be. About a month with Gaia to prepare, about a month to do the, um, mission. No more."

"Make it as quick as possible, okay? Bliss will be awful upset if you aren't here for his natal day. So will his daddy."

"I shall endeavor to offer every satisfaction, sir."

"When are you leaving?"

"Trow,row, early. Before Bliss gets up, if I can."

Cupid lifted his head, and said softly, "Then we have all of tonight." Cupid wrapped his arms tighter around Strife. wungwung his legs up, then rolled over, bringing Strife under him.

Strife smiled, wrapping his legs around Cupid's waist. "Want me to give you one to remember me by?"

"Strife, I will NEVER forget you, but this is going to be our first real separation since we joined. I... I just need..."

Strife thought away their clothes, sharing a gasp of pleasure with Cupid as bare skin connected. "Me, too, Cupe."

They made love. There were times when their joining was nearly as fierce as the mating of wild animals, but tonight... tonight it was tender, slow--sweet. They already knew every beloved inch of each other, but tonight they explored each other's bodies as if it were the first time, with joy and near reverence. The first time was simple--moving and rubbing together, hands csingsing every spot they could reach, till their sperm mingled between their pressed bellies. Then they licked each other clean, and since their heads were already so conveniently placed, the second time was a mutual suckling. After that they slept in each other's arms for an hour or two.

Strife was awakened by Cupid's hands on his buttocks, stroking and squeezing. He rolled on his stomach, spreading his legs invitingly, whispering, "Yeah, Cupe. Please." Cupid was licking and nipping at his neck as a slick finger eased up inside him and began to work slowly, loosening him with infinite gentleness. Strife groaned and pushed back. "More. Need you, Cupie, need you so much."

A second finger, then a third, then his legs were being pushed even farther apart as Cupid moved between them, lowering himself to Strife's body. Strife closed his eyes, rolling his head back and forth as he was filled, basking in the feeling of warmth and completeness. He smiled faintly at Cupid's moan, and his whispered, obscene endearments.

Cupid lost himself in Strife's tight heat. He'd had many bed partners before, but very few actual lovers, and only ONE beloved--Strife. Some might argue, but Cupid was Love, he KNEW there was a difference. It went on for a long time. It was perhaps the longest single sexual encounter they had had to date, and when they came it wasn't the violent burst of passion--it was something slow and gentle, like a warm, tingling wave washing over them.

When they were done, Cupid turned Strife, lying across his body, resting his head on Strife's chest. Before they dropped off to sleep he said, "Tomorrow, wake me before you go."

Strife was running his hands through Cupid's hair. "It's going to be early, Cupe."

"I don't care. I don't want to wake up without you, Strife." He paused, then said quietly. "It hurts."

Cupid didn't think he was going to be able to sleep at all, but Hypnos was a sneaky bastard. Morpheus left him alone, and he was grateful for that. Some unknown time later he felt someone shaking him gently, and opened his eyes to find the room lit only by a single candle, with Strife bending over him. "It's time?" he asked quietly. Strife nodded silently. "Kiss me." Strife did. "Now go." He tucked his head under a pillow.

There was a lingering touch at the small of his back, and he heard Strife say, "I'll come back, Cupid. I WILL."

There was a muted crackle of energy, and Strife was gone. Cupid could tell when his life pres lef left the room--he suddenly felt just a little colder, a little emptier. He dragged Strife's pillow under him, burying his face in it, and whispered. "You'd better, Strife. Oh, Zeus, you'd better."