Work Text:
Confucius Say: Carrot or Cabbage
by Scribe
"Some prefer carrot, while others like cabbage."--Chinese proverb
It's a well-known fact that one of the major problems faced by immortals is boredom. It was getting harder and harder to throw an orgy with any originality, but Cupid had managed it. He threw a 'Come As You Were' orgy. Since most of the gods and goddesses who attended hadn't changed much in the last century or so, most of them used it as an excuse to dress in the very brief styles that they had worn when they were children. Dite went naked, of course, claiming that she couldn't get any more 'as I was' than her birthday suit.
The orgy was in full swing. Since it was being presided over by Cupid, it was well attended. Hey, God of Passionate Love--bound to throw a kick ass orgy, right? In any case, Cupid's Olympian temple was decorated to a fare-the-well, and since Aphrodite's offer to help with the decoration had been gently declined, the pink was kept to a tolerable level. Or as Eris said, "Still bright, but at least I don't want to rip my eyeballs out."
Hestia provided the catering (of course), Dionysus provided the wine, the Muses organized erotic dancing, the singing of bawdy songs, and erotica readings. Bacchus provided lots of hot nymphs, and for those more interested in the male form, a squadron of Ares most elite Spartans was also in attendance.
It would still be some time before things broke up, but it had reached that stage where a majority of the participants were taking a breather. Ares was sprawled comfortably on a sofa, nude except for a small cloth draped over his lap. Actually, that was probably more to prevent sticky crumbs from the baklava he was eating from falling in his pubic hair than modesty.
Someone dropped down on the sofa beside him. He caught a bright flash at the corner of his gaze, and didn't even bother to look over. "Hello, Apollo."
"Hey, bro. Great shindig Cupe set up." Ares glanced over. Apollo was looking as debauched as it was possible for someone so shiny and healthy to look. Cupid strolled past. He was wearing only a brief wrapping of gauzy white cloth around his loins. Someone without a lot of sense might have said it looked like a diaper, but diapers had never looked that sexy. Well, they WOULDN'T, anyway--not for several centuries, and the development of a new kink (Strife disavowed responsibility, but no one believed him). In any case, Cupid had the required elements that mortals would attribute to him centuries later on countless Valentine (and just HOW did that upstart get his name on Cupid's special day, anyway?)--blond curls, snowy white wings, and very little clothing.
The resemblance stopped there. There was absolutely nothing infantile about Cupid. He was a fine, strapping example of a fully grown (and virile, if you were to believe what was outlined under that cloth--and you ARE to believe that) very MALE man. Perhaps the future mortals were thinking Cupid when he was a baby, or even Bliss when HE was a baby. Bliss was spending the night at Hestia's temple with his little sister Impetua, and Accord, their uncle.
"Where's Bliss?" asked Apollo. "Isn't he old enough to attend now?"
"He's nineteen," said Ares. "I don't know why he didn't come."
"Uh-huh." Apollo knew why. Most of Olympus knew why, except Ares, who was still blissfully ignorant. Bliss hadn't attended because Accord was still underage, and wouldn't be allowed to attend. Ares seemed to be the only person who hadn't recognized the strong attraction between the God of Joy and the God of Mediation. Apollo supposed it was willful ignorance. The Olympic view on 'family relations' was pretty lax by mortal standards, but he imagined that finding out that your son and your grandson had the hots for each other might be a little disconcerting.
"Damn, Cupid is fine," said Apollo appreciatively after the Love God had passed. Ares grunted, as if to say 'duh', and took another square of baklava from the tray on the table before him. Apollo eyed him curiously, then said, "How drunk are you?"
"Not much," said Ares. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I figured you had to be approaching stupefied. Usually when I leer after Cupid, you're ready to go upside my head."
Ares shrugged. "He's a big boy now--he can defend himself..." Ares grinned, "bloodily. Don't think I'm getting mellow, though. Get nasty about one of the kids, and I'll..."
"Dude!" Apollo said indignantly. "I have kids of my own, you know. Anyone messes with them," he grinned, too, and though Ares was widely held to be the most bloodthirsty of Zeus's children, that smile would have made a lot of people wince, "I know a LOT of different ways to neuter them so that they'll live."
Ares returned the smile. "Sometimes you're not such a git."
Strife ran past them, giggling madly. Half his safety pins were undone, making him look a bit like a shiny hedgehog. Various swatches of his outfit were gone, and his pale skin was in stark contrast to the black leather. Cupid was hot on his heels. His fingers were pricked to the point of being blood spotted, but he was also grinning like a lunatic. As he ran, he shouted, "Your time is running out! I know where Heph left his gauntlets, and when I catch you I'm going to..." They disappeared down a corridor, but the promise that drifted back to the main room was creatively obscene enough to be worthy of a sex god.
Apollo shook his head. "I just don't get it. I mean, don't get me wrong--I know Strife is your right hand man, and even I will admit that he does his job well, but..." He trailed off.
"What?"
"Look at him. I mean, Cupid could have ANYONE, and who does he pick? He chooses someone who's skinny, and can't tan to save his life. He dresses weird, and he's one of the goofiest creatures I've ever met, including march hares and bed bugs. And the way he talks--how can Cupid understand him?" Apollo shook his head again. "No, I just don't understand."
Joxer came over to the sofa, clanking a little. Joxer had dug out the old, mismatched armor that he'd worn during his days of tagging along with Xena. The absurd helmet tipped over his eye as he sat down. "Boy, that was a narrow escape. Eris has had too much to drink, and she mistook me for Jett. I almost got molested. Luckily Scribe came along looking for him, and pulled Eris off me by the hair." Joxer's eyes got round. "Now I know why they call them 'cat fights'. Anyway, it didn't last long, and now they're having a drink together, and I think they're swapping bondage tips. I left when they started talking about how much easier it would be to picture the effect if they had a demonstration model, and..."
Ares kissed him, shutting off the babble in mid-flow. Joxer gave him a blissful smile, and snuggled his slender, pale body more tightly into Ares' embrace. "Hi. Did I interrupt something?"
Ares glanced at a sheepish looking Apollo and said, "No. I was just telling Apollo he never would."
"Never would what?"
Ares kissed him again. "Understand."
The End
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