A new injury
It wasn't the sex precisely. It was the emotions behind the sex.
Of having something and going somewhere you knew you shouldn't, but doing it anyway because you wanted to show someone you loved them. Of having the affection of someone you'd missed all your life.
Otherwise pristine emotions, under other circumstances, and now you're utterly ripped, torn apart and your heart is bleeding because you discovered you have sacrificed a part of yourself for a lie. As beautiful the betrayal a betrayal is still a betrayal and getting what you think you desire is not always getting what you do desire.
While Anteros was an erote and he had experimented with sexuality, he held his preference toward those of the feminine persuasion as his personal truth. Instead of ever allowing another male to be completely familiar with him on an intimate level, at times he had opted to flirt dangerously close to it, as he had with Pothos, but he had never allowed it to go as far as it had currently with Cupid. The only virginity he'd embraced through his life now departed from him with the sweet irony that he, an erote, wanted it back.
So it was that after Pothos' made his confession Anteros managed to reposition himself with his brother's firm form hovering overtop of his so that he was now sitting upright. Next he managed to swindle his legs out from under his brother's body and swing them around so that they touched the marble floor of his mother's temple. Slumped over on the divan with his ill face almost tucked between his knees he tried to muster the strength within to take further action.
As devastating as the suspicion had been, hearing it said out loud nauseated him. If Cupid had not desired his love, than Pothos had robbed him and here was Pothos admitting it was because of him---
Anteros couldn't breathe, the walls of panic were closing in and the intensity of this new deception had dug into his chest clawing ferociously without any mercy.
What had they done? What had Pothos done to them!
If his and Cupid's feelings hadn't been genuine and they each had been strung along by the hand of yearning like a pair of puppets? No ifs-Pothos admitted it!
His brother, his twin, his soul's reason for being born, Cupid hadn't wanted him----
With a thought he summoned a robe to cover Pothos, but he wasn't releasing Pothos from his fetters and he wasn't giving his virility back! Cupid could release him and if he didn't then Mum could! He couldn't bring himself to look at Cupid before he departed.
Back in his Santa Monica, he sat with his legs huddled close to his torso under the drizzle of the shower and wept. He wanted someone, but did not know who he could call.
He didn't want Lethe, Cloey, or Harmonia to see him like this.
Peitho was angry with him no doubt…and would possibly throw a duck fit.
Mum…No. OUT of the question.
Feeling Flidais' heartbreak he silently invoked her.