Fic: Stupid Cupid 6/42 (Xena, Cupid/Strife, NC17)
Title: Stupid Cupid
Fandom: Xena
Pairing: Cupid/Strife
Rating: NC17
Summary: An AU that sprang from a challenge posted on the AJCS list, in which Strife is the lead singer in a punk band and a teenage Cupid falls in love.
Strife woke to the feeling of something soft tickling his cheek. He reached up without opening his eyes to brush at whatever was tickling his skin, only to find his fingers buried in the source of the softness. A voice muttered something he couldn’t make out and he forced his eyes open, the night before flooding back to him with startling clarity. He looked down to find Cupid sprawled half across his chest, one strong arm draped over his waist and his face pressed so far into Strife’s neck that he couldn’t see anything past a shock of blond hair. He’d known when he told Cupid he could stay that it was a bad idea, but this was too much. They were cuddling, for fuck’s sake. Strife didn’t cuddle, he wasn’t even any good at sharing. Most of the time he was accused of stealing the covers or kicking in his sleep. Of course he didn’t have much chance to do either with a kid as solid as Cupid pinning him to the mattress.
He knew he should wake Cupid up. It was light enough in the room to tell him it was morning even if he couldn’t lift his head, and letting the kid hang around was just delaying the inevitable. He lifted the hand that wasn’t already in Cupid’s hair and reached out cautiously, tracing the curve of Cupid’s shoulder. It was barely a touch, so soft that Cupid might not even have felt it if he’d been awake. Strife told himself he was just being gentle because he didn’t want to scare the other man, but there was a tiny voice in the back of his head that kept insisting he kind of liked waking up draped in Cupid.
It was ridiculous, of course. Sure, he liked Cupid, liked him enough to take him to bed and not kick him out until morning. He wasn’t harboring any secret feelings for the kid, though - hell, he barely even knew him. But it had been a late night, and he couldn’t hear any movement from the rest of the apartment so they hadn’t slept later than Herc and Iolaus. That was a better reason than any to wake Cupid up and get him out of the apartment as fast as possible, but instead of shaking the kid awake as he’d planned Strife found himself stroking Cupid’s hair.
And now he was really losing it, because there was no way he should be petting a one-night stand. He shouldn’t be doing anything that didn’t involve getting up and getting the hell away from the solid warmth draped all over him. He definitely should not be thinking about how hard it would be to angle his head so he could kiss those full, red lips again, or what would happen if Cupid woke up and realized that Strife was actually holding him. He rolled his eyes at himself and let his hand fall back to the mattress, succeeding in evoking another sleepy murmur from the body on top of him.
This time instead of snuffling into his neck and going right back to sleep Cupid shifted, his hand dipping dangerously low on Strife's hip as he blinked and picked his head up off Strife's chest. And there it was, the thing Strife had been afraid of since the moment he first laid eyes on Cupid: that smile. Up-close and drowsy it was even more irresistible than it had been the night before at the club, and before he could stop himself Strife was angling forward to get another taste of those lips. He just needed to erase that smile, or at least block it from his vision until he got a handle on his reaction to it. There was no way he could wake up to that look from someone as beautiful as Cupid and be expected to control himself, it just wasn't right. The kid had a lethal weapon and he probably didn't even know it, either that or he did the best innocent act Strife had ever seen.
Stale beer and the tang on Cupid's tongue told Strife he wasn't dreaming, that this wasn't just some fantasy his overactive imagination had cooked up because he was bored with the daily grind of trying to make it in the New York club scene. Which meant that Cupid really was in his bed, and he really was still a high school senior. That knowledge was better than a bucket of ice water, and Strife pulled away with a gasp and fell back against the pillows again. "Uh…"
"Yeah." Somehow it didn't matter that they sounded like a couple of idiots, because Strife could tell just by looking at Cupid that he knew exactly what was going on. So he hadn't woken up with any dreamy, romantic notions about Strife falling in love with him just because they'd fooled around a couple times. That didn't make him any less young and innocent, and it didn't make Strife any more available for some messy romantic entanglement. "Mind if I take a shower before I leave? It's like a two hour train ride."
Well he hadn't thought of that, but he could hardly ask Cupid to put his clothes back on and get the hell out without at least lending him a toothbrush. That would be almost as heartless as kicking him out after they had sex, and he definitely wasn't a heartless guy. He stared up at the younger man for another moment, weighing his options before answering. "You…uh…ya mind sharing?"
The grin returned almost as bright as it had been before Cupid woke up completely, and he didn't even need to hear the kid's answer to know he didn't mind at all. The way he saw it this was really the best way for everybody - Cupid got to clean up before he hit the road, and Strife might still have a prayer of getting him out of the apartment before Herc and Iolaus saw him. Besides, there was no way he could pass up a shot at a little more 'quality' time with the kid. He grinned back and squirmed out from underneath Cupid, digging around in his closet until he found two reasonably clean towels.
Cupid followed him into the bathroom so quietly that Strife wondered if maybe he didn't really want to run into his roommates, but he shrugged off the question and shut the bathroom door behind them. It was a tight squeeze in the small space, especially with a guy Cupid's size, but he managed to squeeze his way past the younger man and turn on the shower. While the water was warming up he reached around Cupid and picked up his toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste, offering it to Cupid first.
Judging by the size of Cupid's grin Strife might as well have offered him the keys to a Porsche, but the kid's gratitude over even dumb little things like a toothbrush did things to his stomach he didn't want to think about. He leaned back against the bathroom door and watched the muscles in Cupid's back flex as he brushed his teeth, admiring the view of Cupid's bare ass when he bent over enough to spit and rinse his mouth.
"Thanks," Cupid said when he handed the toothbrush back to Strife.
"No problem," Strife answered, swallowing the word 'kid' before it could escape his mouth. "You can get in if ya want."
Cupid smiled again and pulled back the shower curtain, testing the water before he stepped inside and closed the curtain behind him. Once he was more or less alone Strife glanced at his reflection in the mirror, scowling to erase the practically giddy grin lighting up his eyes. He was not grinning about the overgrown teenager in his shower, he was not. He was just being nice, there was no law against that. As long as nobody found out about it, anyway. With a final shake of his head he brushed his teeth and rinsed, taking a deep breath to steel his nerves before he pulled the shower curtain back and climbed into the shower with Cupid.
And damn, the kid looked even more beautiful wet. There had to be a God, and He really fucking hated Strife. It was the only explanation for handing him something so tempting that he didn't even have to do any work to get, and attaching a whole mess of strings that Strife was in no mood to deal with. Life just wasn't fair, and it was just his luck that instead of just falling off the stage and breaking a leg or losing his voice that he got a shower full of way too tempting teenager.
If he'd had a chance he might have made a quick exit, but no sooner did he step under the spray than he found himself backed up against the wall and draped in Cupid again. His hands went up to grip wet hair as Cupid's mouth landed on his neck, his lips parting to suck hard on Strife's skin. Strife barely felt the water hitting his chest as Cupid pulled back to examine his work, satisfying himself that the mark would last before he began working his way down the older boy's body. He slid to his knees in a single, fluid motion, evoking a gasp from Strife as a hand closed around his quickly hardening cock and began to stroke.
As soon as Cupid leaned forward and took his first tentative taste Strife couldn't believe he'd almost let the kid walk out of his life without ever getting him on his knees. Then he remembered what it felt like to be inside Cupid and he bucked into the younger man's mouth, forcing his eyes open long enough to make sure he hadn't hurt him. Cupid's hands landed on Strife's hips to hold him still, but his mouth was still moving up and down Strife's length with enthusiasm. Strife knew he should just close his eyes and enjoy the blow job, but he couldn't stop himself from reaching out and running a hand through hair made dark blond by the shower. "Cupe," he gasped, barely loud enough for Cupid to hear. "Look at me."
Cupid did as he was told almost before Strife asked, his big brown eyes glazed with lust as he met the older boy's gaze. Strife swallowed hard and told himself to look away, that it was way too intense to keep staring into those eyes. He couldn't bring himself to do it, though, not when just the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Cupid's mouth was enough to fuel his fantasies for the next month. When he felt the pressure in his groin building to a climax his fingers tightened reflexively in Cupid's hair, and before he knew what was happening a hand reached behind him to cup his ass. He felt a finger slide between his cheeks, but until it slid inside him he didn't even think about what Cupid might have in mind.
Most of the time he thought of himself as a top, but the thought of Cupid fucking him was enough to drive him over the edge, and he clamped down hard on the finger buried inside him as he came in Cupid's mouth. He slumped back against the shower wall, barely aware of the finger pulling out of him or the fact that Cupid was standing up to cover Strife's body with his again.
"Strife," Cupid whispered in his ear, his own need digging into Strife's thigh as the younger man thrust minutely against him, "I really want…"
Strife cut him off with a hard kiss, tasting himself on Cupid's tongue as he plundered the other boy's mouth. When he finally released him he opened his eyes and instantly wished he hadn't, because if Cupid kept looking at him like that there was no way he was getting out of this shower a single man. "Top drawer," he said, pushing Cupid less than gently in the direction of the sink. "Hurry."
Cupid didn't waste any time producing a condom, and Strife turned and braced himself against the shower wall so he wouldn't be tempted to watch Cupid's face while he rolled the condom on. He felt his legs being nudged apart gently, then Cupid's forehead was pressed against his shoulder and he felt a soft kiss being pressed against his spine. The kid was so goddamn nice that Strife found himself wanting to cry, which didn't make any sense so he swallowed hard and focused on the distracting sensation of Cupid's cock slowly sliding inside him. Only even that was gentle, or maybe more shy like Cupid had never actually done this before and he was afraid of breaking him.
"Cupe?"
"Yeah?" Ragged, uneven voice, and Strife smiled in spite of himself.
"Ya evah done this before?"
"Jesus…" Sharp intake of breath as Strife thrust back to make his point, drawing Cupid as far inside as he could get. "Not…not exactly."
"Well ya don't exactly hafta be so gentle," Strife said, suddenly unreasonably pleased to be the first guy Cupid had ever fucked. "I can take it."
Another sharp inhale was his only answer, then strong hands clamped down on his hips and Cupid pulled out almost all the way. He paused for one excruciating second before slamming back into Strife again, a sharp gasp escaping his throat as he buried himself to the hilt. Strife swallowed a surprised gasp and scrambled for a decent grip on the tiles, but they were too slick and there was no way he was going to live through this anyway. Cupid probably wouldn't last long, but damn if the kid wasn't a natural. The angle was perfect to get him as deep as possible, the tip of his cock brushing Strife's prostate with each stroke. It was almost like their bodies were molded for each other…but he wasn't gonna start thinking drippy shit like that, no matter how good Cupid was. It wasn't romantic and it didn't have anything to do with love or fate or any of that other shit, it was just a good fuck. An extraordinary fuck. Almost as good as when he'd kissed Cupid while he fucked him the night before.
He braced himself for an especially wild thrust, clamping down hard on Cupid just to hear him moan. Hell, he even liked the sound of the kid's moans, and there had to be something wrong with that. He could definitely get used to being the reason Cupid made that sound, but that was the problem, wasn't it? Because every time he started to think that maybe they could see each other just one more time he remembered that Cupid was still some kid from the 'burbs, and he still had an image that he'd worked really hard for. It sucked, but that was the way it had to be.
Way too soon Cupid tensed against him, burying himself as deep as he could get in Strife and moaning his release against the back of Strife's neck. When he found himself wishing he'd let Cupid go bareback he knew he was really in trouble, and he nudged the body that was plastered to his back less than gently. "Cupe, come on. Ya weigh like twice as much as me."
He was surprised to find that it hurt a little when Cupid pulled out of him, but it had been awhile and that was definitely the most enthusiastic fuck he'd ever had. Besides, it wouldn't be so bad to be able to feel Cupid inside him for the rest of the day, and he knew every time he sat down he'd remember this moment. Slowly he turned to face the other boy, rolling his eyes at himself when his heart skipped a beat. He watched Cupid pull the condom off and reach around the shower curtain to toss it in the trash can, hating himself even as he reached out and pulled the younger man back toward him.
Cupid looked surprised when Strife pulled him down for another kiss, but he wrapped his arms around the smaller man and parted his lips. And fuck, did he taste good, which was something else Strife was definitely going to miss about him. He was actually going to miss the kid, despite the fact that they'd never even really had a conversation. Reluctantly he pulled away and reached for the shampoo, pouring some into his hand before he handed it to Cupid. "Gotta wash all this crap outta my hair," he said, scowling at the wet, sticky mass of hair gel and sweat that used to resemble hair.
"Let me," Cupid said from behind him, not bothering to wait for an answer before he pushed Strife's hands out of the way and started massaging his scalp. He would have been embarrassed at the fact that Cupid massaging his scalp was making him hard if just hearing Cupid's name didn't make him hard. He was pretty much screwed either way, because if he let Cupid hang around it could cost him his career, and if he didn't it could cost him…well, Cupid. Which at the moment seemed like a much bigger loss than whatever it was he did for a living, not that he could remember while Cupid's fingers were working the shampoo through his hair.
He was so lost in the ecstasy of the strong hands on his scalp that he didn't hear the bathroom door open, but when Cupid's fingers froze in his hair he knew something was wrong. There was no time to react, to move away from the kid or even try to pretend they weren't doing exactly what they were doing before the shower curtain opened.
"Strife, we fucking agreed no sex in the…holy shit." Iolaus stopped mid-sentence, mouth hanging open as he stared, wide-eyed at Cupid. "Fucking Jailbait? I mean…fuck, Strife…"
"Dude, fuck off," Strife growled, shoving Iolaus hard and yanking the shower curtain shut again. He hadn't forgotten about the no-sex-in-the-bathroom rule, not exactly anyway. It had just slipped his mind, probably because he was so worried about getting Cupid out of the apartment before either of his roommates saw them. He knew they'd heard Strife the night before, that was the reason the heavy metal music had gotten louder all of a sudden. But they didn't know who he'd brought home with him, and he'd been hoping to keep it that way. There was no way he was living this down now, and he couldn't even enjoy the fact that Iolaus had actually volunteered to walk in on him and some guy having sex in the shower. The whole reason for the rule was so that Herc and Iolaus wouldn't have to see it, at least that was what they'd said. Of course getting an eyeful of naked and wet Cupid might have been what rendered Iolaus speechless for the moment, but he wouldn't stay that way forever, no matter how many secret fantasies he was hiding from Hercules.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and coming up with a handful of suds. He frowned down at his hand, then scowled and stepped back under the water to wash the shampoo out. "Fuck."
"Strife?"
Even worse, he could hear the uncertainty creeping into Cupid's voice, and he couldn't believe that a few minutes ago he'd actually been contemplating keeping the kid around. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid, and Cupid was quickly becoming a major complication. He forced his eyes open and pushed a mass of wet bangs off his forehead, letting out a deep sigh as he met Cupid's gaze. "Look, Cupe, it's been fun, but I told ya, relationships just ain't my thing."
"That is such bullshit," Cupid accused, brown eyes that had looked so innocent a moment ago narrowing dangerously. "I never asked you for anything, did I? I knew the score when I came over here, and I never pretended I didn't. You're the one trying to get away with something. You just didn't want your friends to know you slept with me, did you?"
"Cupe, calm down," Strife said, his pulse picking up speed as he watched Cupid's cheeks flush. He wasn't even sure what to do with an angry, naked, dripping wet teenager, especially one that was twice his size. "There's a lotta shit ya wouldn't understand…"
"Fuck you," Cupid interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away. For a second he looked so much like one of those Greek statues that Strife was almost sure he was going to wake up any second now, but then he started talking again and ruined the affect. "I might still be in high school, but I'm not a moron. You're embarrassed because I’m younger than you, right? Your friends found out how old I am and you didn't want them to know you actually liked me."
Well. Stupid he wasn't, and Strife found himself blinking as he struggled for something to say. There was really no way out of this, not when Cupid already had his number. The water pelting against his back started to turn cold, and he reached up to rub his temples where they'd begun to ache. "I was just tryin' ta keep things simple," he finally said. What he really wished was that Cupid would get mad and storm out of the bathroom, leaving Strife alone to lean against the shower wall and will himself to disappear.
"How old are you?" Cupid's voice was dangerously low, and for the first time since they'd met Strife felt completely out of control of the situation.
"What tha fuck does that matter?"
"Just answer the question."
Strife took a deep breath and looked down, suddenly feeling a little stupid about the whole situation. Cupid was hot, he was old enough to know what he was doing, and if Strife liked him…but that was the thing. Did he like him enough to put up with the shit his friends were going to give him? "Cupe, ya don't understand. It's a punk band, ya don't know…"
"Answer the fucking question."
"Fine. I'm 20, ya feel betta now?"
He looked up at Cupid, eyes flashing defiantly as he met the other boy's stormy gaze. For a minute they stood there, less than two feet apart and both of them soaking wet. Then Cupid's eyes narrowed even more and his jaw clenched, and before Strife could react he was out of the shower. He didn't stop to dry himself off, he just grabbed his towel and yanked the bathroom door open. Strife was caught between just letting him go and following him to try to make him understand, but in the end he was too cold to stand in the shower anymore. He let out a sigh and turned off the water, running his towel over his hair before he wrapped it around his waist and followed Cupid into his bedroom. By the time he got there Cupid was nearly dressed, his hair pushed off his face as he leaned down to tie his boots. Strife's stomach twisted at the thought of Cupid walking away hating him, and before he could stop himself he was talking again.
"Cupe, ya don't get it. It's not about yer age…I mean high school…but yer right, it's just a coupla years. It's not that, it's the band…"
"I could care less about your stupid fucking band," Cupid said, not bothering to look at Strife as he pulled his jacket on and headed for the door.
"Cupe, come on," Strife tried again, not stopping long enough to worry about whether or not he sounded like he was begging. Somewhere in the back of his mind was a voice telling him that this was what he'd wanted, that Cupid was walking away and that solved all his problems. Another, far less rational part of him couldn't stand the thought of Cupid going back to his suburb to spend the rest of his life hating him, though, and that part of him appeared to have temporary control of his mouth and his legs. "Woulda just listen?"
His hand was on the front door before his pride caught up with him, but he knew better than to think he could actually stop Cupid from leaving if he really wanted to. For a second when Cupid stopped next to him and looked down at the floor Strife's heart leapt - it actually leapt - and it scared him so much that he straightened up and took a step backwards. That was enough for Cupid to look over at him, disappointment clear in his eyes. "See you around, Strife," he said, pulling the door open and slamming it behind him.
As soon as he was gone Strife squared his shoulders and told himself it was exactly what he'd wanted the entire time. He'd just lost his mind for a little while there because Cupid was so beautiful and he had such an amazing mouth, but that was nothing to base a relationship on. He could think of worse reasons, but still…he swallowed a sigh and ignored the two pairs of eyes he could feel on him, turning toward his bedroom before either of his roommates got a chance to say anything about the scene they'd just witnessed. He wasn't in the mood to explain to them why he'd practically begged Cupid not to leave, and he definitely wasn't in the mood to listen to them rehash all the reasons why he should be glad he had left.
Fandom: Xena
Pairing: Cupid/Strife
Rating: NC17
Summary: An AU that sprang from a challenge posted on the AJCS list, in which Strife is the lead singer in a punk band and a teenage Cupid falls in love.
Strife woke to the feeling of something soft tickling his cheek. He reached up without opening his eyes to brush at whatever was tickling his skin, only to find his fingers buried in the source of the softness. A voice muttered something he couldn’t make out and he forced his eyes open, the night before flooding back to him with startling clarity. He looked down to find Cupid sprawled half across his chest, one strong arm draped over his waist and his face pressed so far into Strife’s neck that he couldn’t see anything past a shock of blond hair. He’d known when he told Cupid he could stay that it was a bad idea, but this was too much. They were cuddling, for fuck’s sake. Strife didn’t cuddle, he wasn’t even any good at sharing. Most of the time he was accused of stealing the covers or kicking in his sleep. Of course he didn’t have much chance to do either with a kid as solid as Cupid pinning him to the mattress.
He knew he should wake Cupid up. It was light enough in the room to tell him it was morning even if he couldn’t lift his head, and letting the kid hang around was just delaying the inevitable. He lifted the hand that wasn’t already in Cupid’s hair and reached out cautiously, tracing the curve of Cupid’s shoulder. It was barely a touch, so soft that Cupid might not even have felt it if he’d been awake. Strife told himself he was just being gentle because he didn’t want to scare the other man, but there was a tiny voice in the back of his head that kept insisting he kind of liked waking up draped in Cupid.
It was ridiculous, of course. Sure, he liked Cupid, liked him enough to take him to bed and not kick him out until morning. He wasn’t harboring any secret feelings for the kid, though - hell, he barely even knew him. But it had been a late night, and he couldn’t hear any movement from the rest of the apartment so they hadn’t slept later than Herc and Iolaus. That was a better reason than any to wake Cupid up and get him out of the apartment as fast as possible, but instead of shaking the kid awake as he’d planned Strife found himself stroking Cupid’s hair.
And now he was really losing it, because there was no way he should be petting a one-night stand. He shouldn’t be doing anything that didn’t involve getting up and getting the hell away from the solid warmth draped all over him. He definitely should not be thinking about how hard it would be to angle his head so he could kiss those full, red lips again, or what would happen if Cupid woke up and realized that Strife was actually holding him. He rolled his eyes at himself and let his hand fall back to the mattress, succeeding in evoking another sleepy murmur from the body on top of him.
This time instead of snuffling into his neck and going right back to sleep Cupid shifted, his hand dipping dangerously low on Strife's hip as he blinked and picked his head up off Strife's chest. And there it was, the thing Strife had been afraid of since the moment he first laid eyes on Cupid: that smile. Up-close and drowsy it was even more irresistible than it had been the night before at the club, and before he could stop himself Strife was angling forward to get another taste of those lips. He just needed to erase that smile, or at least block it from his vision until he got a handle on his reaction to it. There was no way he could wake up to that look from someone as beautiful as Cupid and be expected to control himself, it just wasn't right. The kid had a lethal weapon and he probably didn't even know it, either that or he did the best innocent act Strife had ever seen.
Stale beer and the tang on Cupid's tongue told Strife he wasn't dreaming, that this wasn't just some fantasy his overactive imagination had cooked up because he was bored with the daily grind of trying to make it in the New York club scene. Which meant that Cupid really was in his bed, and he really was still a high school senior. That knowledge was better than a bucket of ice water, and Strife pulled away with a gasp and fell back against the pillows again. "Uh…"
"Yeah." Somehow it didn't matter that they sounded like a couple of idiots, because Strife could tell just by looking at Cupid that he knew exactly what was going on. So he hadn't woken up with any dreamy, romantic notions about Strife falling in love with him just because they'd fooled around a couple times. That didn't make him any less young and innocent, and it didn't make Strife any more available for some messy romantic entanglement. "Mind if I take a shower before I leave? It's like a two hour train ride."
Well he hadn't thought of that, but he could hardly ask Cupid to put his clothes back on and get the hell out without at least lending him a toothbrush. That would be almost as heartless as kicking him out after they had sex, and he definitely wasn't a heartless guy. He stared up at the younger man for another moment, weighing his options before answering. "You…uh…ya mind sharing?"
The grin returned almost as bright as it had been before Cupid woke up completely, and he didn't even need to hear the kid's answer to know he didn't mind at all. The way he saw it this was really the best way for everybody - Cupid got to clean up before he hit the road, and Strife might still have a prayer of getting him out of the apartment before Herc and Iolaus saw him. Besides, there was no way he could pass up a shot at a little more 'quality' time with the kid. He grinned back and squirmed out from underneath Cupid, digging around in his closet until he found two reasonably clean towels.
Cupid followed him into the bathroom so quietly that Strife wondered if maybe he didn't really want to run into his roommates, but he shrugged off the question and shut the bathroom door behind them. It was a tight squeeze in the small space, especially with a guy Cupid's size, but he managed to squeeze his way past the younger man and turn on the shower. While the water was warming up he reached around Cupid and picked up his toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste, offering it to Cupid first.
Judging by the size of Cupid's grin Strife might as well have offered him the keys to a Porsche, but the kid's gratitude over even dumb little things like a toothbrush did things to his stomach he didn't want to think about. He leaned back against the bathroom door and watched the muscles in Cupid's back flex as he brushed his teeth, admiring the view of Cupid's bare ass when he bent over enough to spit and rinse his mouth.
"Thanks," Cupid said when he handed the toothbrush back to Strife.
"No problem," Strife answered, swallowing the word 'kid' before it could escape his mouth. "You can get in if ya want."
Cupid smiled again and pulled back the shower curtain, testing the water before he stepped inside and closed the curtain behind him. Once he was more or less alone Strife glanced at his reflection in the mirror, scowling to erase the practically giddy grin lighting up his eyes. He was not grinning about the overgrown teenager in his shower, he was not. He was just being nice, there was no law against that. As long as nobody found out about it, anyway. With a final shake of his head he brushed his teeth and rinsed, taking a deep breath to steel his nerves before he pulled the shower curtain back and climbed into the shower with Cupid.
And damn, the kid looked even more beautiful wet. There had to be a God, and He really fucking hated Strife. It was the only explanation for handing him something so tempting that he didn't even have to do any work to get, and attaching a whole mess of strings that Strife was in no mood to deal with. Life just wasn't fair, and it was just his luck that instead of just falling off the stage and breaking a leg or losing his voice that he got a shower full of way too tempting teenager.
If he'd had a chance he might have made a quick exit, but no sooner did he step under the spray than he found himself backed up against the wall and draped in Cupid again. His hands went up to grip wet hair as Cupid's mouth landed on his neck, his lips parting to suck hard on Strife's skin. Strife barely felt the water hitting his chest as Cupid pulled back to examine his work, satisfying himself that the mark would last before he began working his way down the older boy's body. He slid to his knees in a single, fluid motion, evoking a gasp from Strife as a hand closed around his quickly hardening cock and began to stroke.
As soon as Cupid leaned forward and took his first tentative taste Strife couldn't believe he'd almost let the kid walk out of his life without ever getting him on his knees. Then he remembered what it felt like to be inside Cupid and he bucked into the younger man's mouth, forcing his eyes open long enough to make sure he hadn't hurt him. Cupid's hands landed on Strife's hips to hold him still, but his mouth was still moving up and down Strife's length with enthusiasm. Strife knew he should just close his eyes and enjoy the blow job, but he couldn't stop himself from reaching out and running a hand through hair made dark blond by the shower. "Cupe," he gasped, barely loud enough for Cupid to hear. "Look at me."
Cupid did as he was told almost before Strife asked, his big brown eyes glazed with lust as he met the older boy's gaze. Strife swallowed hard and told himself to look away, that it was way too intense to keep staring into those eyes. He couldn't bring himself to do it, though, not when just the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Cupid's mouth was enough to fuel his fantasies for the next month. When he felt the pressure in his groin building to a climax his fingers tightened reflexively in Cupid's hair, and before he knew what was happening a hand reached behind him to cup his ass. He felt a finger slide between his cheeks, but until it slid inside him he didn't even think about what Cupid might have in mind.
Most of the time he thought of himself as a top, but the thought of Cupid fucking him was enough to drive him over the edge, and he clamped down hard on the finger buried inside him as he came in Cupid's mouth. He slumped back against the shower wall, barely aware of the finger pulling out of him or the fact that Cupid was standing up to cover Strife's body with his again.
"Strife," Cupid whispered in his ear, his own need digging into Strife's thigh as the younger man thrust minutely against him, "I really want…"
Strife cut him off with a hard kiss, tasting himself on Cupid's tongue as he plundered the other boy's mouth. When he finally released him he opened his eyes and instantly wished he hadn't, because if Cupid kept looking at him like that there was no way he was getting out of this shower a single man. "Top drawer," he said, pushing Cupid less than gently in the direction of the sink. "Hurry."
Cupid didn't waste any time producing a condom, and Strife turned and braced himself against the shower wall so he wouldn't be tempted to watch Cupid's face while he rolled the condom on. He felt his legs being nudged apart gently, then Cupid's forehead was pressed against his shoulder and he felt a soft kiss being pressed against his spine. The kid was so goddamn nice that Strife found himself wanting to cry, which didn't make any sense so he swallowed hard and focused on the distracting sensation of Cupid's cock slowly sliding inside him. Only even that was gentle, or maybe more shy like Cupid had never actually done this before and he was afraid of breaking him.
"Cupe?"
"Yeah?" Ragged, uneven voice, and Strife smiled in spite of himself.
"Ya evah done this before?"
"Jesus…" Sharp intake of breath as Strife thrust back to make his point, drawing Cupid as far inside as he could get. "Not…not exactly."
"Well ya don't exactly hafta be so gentle," Strife said, suddenly unreasonably pleased to be the first guy Cupid had ever fucked. "I can take it."
Another sharp inhale was his only answer, then strong hands clamped down on his hips and Cupid pulled out almost all the way. He paused for one excruciating second before slamming back into Strife again, a sharp gasp escaping his throat as he buried himself to the hilt. Strife swallowed a surprised gasp and scrambled for a decent grip on the tiles, but they were too slick and there was no way he was going to live through this anyway. Cupid probably wouldn't last long, but damn if the kid wasn't a natural. The angle was perfect to get him as deep as possible, the tip of his cock brushing Strife's prostate with each stroke. It was almost like their bodies were molded for each other…but he wasn't gonna start thinking drippy shit like that, no matter how good Cupid was. It wasn't romantic and it didn't have anything to do with love or fate or any of that other shit, it was just a good fuck. An extraordinary fuck. Almost as good as when he'd kissed Cupid while he fucked him the night before.
He braced himself for an especially wild thrust, clamping down hard on Cupid just to hear him moan. Hell, he even liked the sound of the kid's moans, and there had to be something wrong with that. He could definitely get used to being the reason Cupid made that sound, but that was the problem, wasn't it? Because every time he started to think that maybe they could see each other just one more time he remembered that Cupid was still some kid from the 'burbs, and he still had an image that he'd worked really hard for. It sucked, but that was the way it had to be.
Way too soon Cupid tensed against him, burying himself as deep as he could get in Strife and moaning his release against the back of Strife's neck. When he found himself wishing he'd let Cupid go bareback he knew he was really in trouble, and he nudged the body that was plastered to his back less than gently. "Cupe, come on. Ya weigh like twice as much as me."
He was surprised to find that it hurt a little when Cupid pulled out of him, but it had been awhile and that was definitely the most enthusiastic fuck he'd ever had. Besides, it wouldn't be so bad to be able to feel Cupid inside him for the rest of the day, and he knew every time he sat down he'd remember this moment. Slowly he turned to face the other boy, rolling his eyes at himself when his heart skipped a beat. He watched Cupid pull the condom off and reach around the shower curtain to toss it in the trash can, hating himself even as he reached out and pulled the younger man back toward him.
Cupid looked surprised when Strife pulled him down for another kiss, but he wrapped his arms around the smaller man and parted his lips. And fuck, did he taste good, which was something else Strife was definitely going to miss about him. He was actually going to miss the kid, despite the fact that they'd never even really had a conversation. Reluctantly he pulled away and reached for the shampoo, pouring some into his hand before he handed it to Cupid. "Gotta wash all this crap outta my hair," he said, scowling at the wet, sticky mass of hair gel and sweat that used to resemble hair.
"Let me," Cupid said from behind him, not bothering to wait for an answer before he pushed Strife's hands out of the way and started massaging his scalp. He would have been embarrassed at the fact that Cupid massaging his scalp was making him hard if just hearing Cupid's name didn't make him hard. He was pretty much screwed either way, because if he let Cupid hang around it could cost him his career, and if he didn't it could cost him…well, Cupid. Which at the moment seemed like a much bigger loss than whatever it was he did for a living, not that he could remember while Cupid's fingers were working the shampoo through his hair.
He was so lost in the ecstasy of the strong hands on his scalp that he didn't hear the bathroom door open, but when Cupid's fingers froze in his hair he knew something was wrong. There was no time to react, to move away from the kid or even try to pretend they weren't doing exactly what they were doing before the shower curtain opened.
"Strife, we fucking agreed no sex in the…holy shit." Iolaus stopped mid-sentence, mouth hanging open as he stared, wide-eyed at Cupid. "Fucking Jailbait? I mean…fuck, Strife…"
"Dude, fuck off," Strife growled, shoving Iolaus hard and yanking the shower curtain shut again. He hadn't forgotten about the no-sex-in-the-bathroom rule, not exactly anyway. It had just slipped his mind, probably because he was so worried about getting Cupid out of the apartment before either of his roommates saw them. He knew they'd heard Strife the night before, that was the reason the heavy metal music had gotten louder all of a sudden. But they didn't know who he'd brought home with him, and he'd been hoping to keep it that way. There was no way he was living this down now, and he couldn't even enjoy the fact that Iolaus had actually volunteered to walk in on him and some guy having sex in the shower. The whole reason for the rule was so that Herc and Iolaus wouldn't have to see it, at least that was what they'd said. Of course getting an eyeful of naked and wet Cupid might have been what rendered Iolaus speechless for the moment, but he wouldn't stay that way forever, no matter how many secret fantasies he was hiding from Hercules.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and coming up with a handful of suds. He frowned down at his hand, then scowled and stepped back under the water to wash the shampoo out. "Fuck."
"Strife?"
Even worse, he could hear the uncertainty creeping into Cupid's voice, and he couldn't believe that a few minutes ago he'd actually been contemplating keeping the kid around. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid, and Cupid was quickly becoming a major complication. He forced his eyes open and pushed a mass of wet bangs off his forehead, letting out a deep sigh as he met Cupid's gaze. "Look, Cupe, it's been fun, but I told ya, relationships just ain't my thing."
"That is such bullshit," Cupid accused, brown eyes that had looked so innocent a moment ago narrowing dangerously. "I never asked you for anything, did I? I knew the score when I came over here, and I never pretended I didn't. You're the one trying to get away with something. You just didn't want your friends to know you slept with me, did you?"
"Cupe, calm down," Strife said, his pulse picking up speed as he watched Cupid's cheeks flush. He wasn't even sure what to do with an angry, naked, dripping wet teenager, especially one that was twice his size. "There's a lotta shit ya wouldn't understand…"
"Fuck you," Cupid interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away. For a second he looked so much like one of those Greek statues that Strife was almost sure he was going to wake up any second now, but then he started talking again and ruined the affect. "I might still be in high school, but I'm not a moron. You're embarrassed because I’m younger than you, right? Your friends found out how old I am and you didn't want them to know you actually liked me."
Well. Stupid he wasn't, and Strife found himself blinking as he struggled for something to say. There was really no way out of this, not when Cupid already had his number. The water pelting against his back started to turn cold, and he reached up to rub his temples where they'd begun to ache. "I was just tryin' ta keep things simple," he finally said. What he really wished was that Cupid would get mad and storm out of the bathroom, leaving Strife alone to lean against the shower wall and will himself to disappear.
"How old are you?" Cupid's voice was dangerously low, and for the first time since they'd met Strife felt completely out of control of the situation.
"What tha fuck does that matter?"
"Just answer the question."
Strife took a deep breath and looked down, suddenly feeling a little stupid about the whole situation. Cupid was hot, he was old enough to know what he was doing, and if Strife liked him…but that was the thing. Did he like him enough to put up with the shit his friends were going to give him? "Cupe, ya don't understand. It's a punk band, ya don't know…"
"Answer the fucking question."
"Fine. I'm 20, ya feel betta now?"
He looked up at Cupid, eyes flashing defiantly as he met the other boy's stormy gaze. For a minute they stood there, less than two feet apart and both of them soaking wet. Then Cupid's eyes narrowed even more and his jaw clenched, and before Strife could react he was out of the shower. He didn't stop to dry himself off, he just grabbed his towel and yanked the bathroom door open. Strife was caught between just letting him go and following him to try to make him understand, but in the end he was too cold to stand in the shower anymore. He let out a sigh and turned off the water, running his towel over his hair before he wrapped it around his waist and followed Cupid into his bedroom. By the time he got there Cupid was nearly dressed, his hair pushed off his face as he leaned down to tie his boots. Strife's stomach twisted at the thought of Cupid walking away hating him, and before he could stop himself he was talking again.
"Cupe, ya don't get it. It's not about yer age…I mean high school…but yer right, it's just a coupla years. It's not that, it's the band…"
"I could care less about your stupid fucking band," Cupid said, not bothering to look at Strife as he pulled his jacket on and headed for the door.
"Cupe, come on," Strife tried again, not stopping long enough to worry about whether or not he sounded like he was begging. Somewhere in the back of his mind was a voice telling him that this was what he'd wanted, that Cupid was walking away and that solved all his problems. Another, far less rational part of him couldn't stand the thought of Cupid going back to his suburb to spend the rest of his life hating him, though, and that part of him appeared to have temporary control of his mouth and his legs. "Woulda just listen?"
His hand was on the front door before his pride caught up with him, but he knew better than to think he could actually stop Cupid from leaving if he really wanted to. For a second when Cupid stopped next to him and looked down at the floor Strife's heart leapt - it actually leapt - and it scared him so much that he straightened up and took a step backwards. That was enough for Cupid to look over at him, disappointment clear in his eyes. "See you around, Strife," he said, pulling the door open and slamming it behind him.
As soon as he was gone Strife squared his shoulders and told himself it was exactly what he'd wanted the entire time. He'd just lost his mind for a little while there because Cupid was so beautiful and he had such an amazing mouth, but that was nothing to base a relationship on. He could think of worse reasons, but still…he swallowed a sigh and ignored the two pairs of eyes he could feel on him, turning toward his bedroom before either of his roommates got a chance to say anything about the scene they'd just witnessed. He wasn't in the mood to explain to them why he'd practically begged Cupid not to leave, and he definitely wasn't in the mood to listen to them rehash all the reasons why he should be glad he had left.