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Chapter Four
About the Time Hercules and Iolaus Are at the Spring
Cupid and Strife had managed a rare afternoon to themselves. Since the Gods of War and Peace were busy, Imp and Bliss were currently driving Ares' and Joxer's priests crazy. Strife had slipped Bliss a roughly plank-sized slab of chocolate before sending them off (he was looking forward to a lot of mischief energy when the sugar-rush set in). Accord, being the God of Mediation, was doing his level best to keep the peace between his hyperactive relations and his daddies' mortals, but even a god can't achieve much when he's only three years old, and suffering from chocolate induced hyperactivity himself.
Cupid and Strife had enjoyed some 'afternoon delight', and had then indulged in a nap. Now they were just lying, tangled together, lazily talking about nothing in particular.
There wasn't any warning. Suddenly Cupid felt Strife stiffen. He looked up quickly to see his husband's eyes suddenly widen. He'd seen this before, and, not desiring to lose any skin or feathers unless he had to, disengaged quickly, almost falling off the bed in his haste to release Strife from his embrace. He was just barely in time. Strife jumped up so quickly that he almost seemed to levitated, and he hit the ground... skipping. And cackling with wild glee. Cupid sat up and enjoyed the sight. After all, Strife was still naked.
Cupid knew that there was some Mischief with a capital M going on somewhere. Every God got a constant trickle of energy from their worshippers--the simple fact of the mortals' belief gave a low grade charge. It was always there, and since it was constant, most gods weren't really aware of it, unless something disrupted it. For instance, there were always people in love and having sex, so Aphrodite's 'batteries' never really went low. People were always falling in love, or developing crushes or infatuations, so Cupid had a generous supply of power. And Strife...
Considering the fact that most animals, all children, and a good portion of adults were natural mischief makers, Cupid was surprised that Strife wasn't one of the more powerful gods. He figured that a lot of the energy that could go to Strife was instead shunted off to, say, Ares and Discord, or even himself and 'Dite. But the divinities also received bursts of energy when something significant associated with their godhood occurred. Strife was getting a lot better at handling these unexpected bursts of massive mischief energy--he didn't literally bounce off the walls any more. Cupid raised his voice, calling, "This looks like a good one, babe."
Strife managed to stand still for a second, shaking his hands hard, since it was impossible for him to actually avoid movement when he was in this state. "Hot damn, Cupe! Yow! It's like suddenly gettin ta just tha right level of drunk, seein yer mortal enemy do somethin that will make him go down in history as tha biggest jackass evah, eatin chocolate, bein tickled, havin a mind-blowin orgasm, and findin out that Gabrielle is gonna have laryngitis fah tha rest of her life--all at tha same time."
Cupid blinked. "Wow. I wish I could get that, too." Cupid's eyes suddenly went wide, and his wings shot out to full spread, giving a big flap. "Wow! And I mean that!"
Strife bounced up onto the bed. "Oo, someone's gettin some pretty spectacularly, huh?"
Cupid was beginning to flush. "We're talking Love and Lust. I'd bet you a cart of dinars that Mom is about to jump Heph."
"Cupe? We're gods--dinars mean nothin ta us."
"You know what I mean." Cupid grabbed Strife and slammed him down on his back, climbing on top of him.
Strife cackled. "I love it when this happens. Someone else gets nooky--I get nooky." They'd had a couple of hours to recuperate from their last bout of love-making, but even if they hadn't, it wouldn't have been a problem. The sort of energy they were getting was more effective than Viagra with a Spanish Fly chaser.
A little later they were in pretty much the same position as they'd started--tangled together, but this time they were sweat slick, and moving past relaxed into pooped. Strife yawned hugely, and Cupid said, "Cover your mouth when you do that."
Strife grinned at him lazily. "Nah. You do it." He yawned again. Cupid covered his mouth--with his own. After a minute of tongue wrestling they broke apart again, and Strife sighed, "Sometimes even mannahs can be fun. Ya know, I hope I can find out what caused that burst of energy. If someone in particular is responsible, I'd kinda like ta thank 'em. Mebbe make sure they don't get caught in any tavern brawls or riots fah tha next year."
"Me, too. If it turns out that this is just an infatuation, I'll ask Mom to see what she can do about making it more permanent." He thought, then rubbed his chin on Strife's shoulder, getting a half-hearted murmur about whisker burn. "But you know what, Strife? That didn't exactly feel like a 'lust at first sight'. Well, not just that, anyway. It had some real oomph behind it."
"Yah? How so?"
"Well, you know there's different levels of this--from puppy love up to soul mates."
Strife nodded. "Right. From Meg's 'hello, sailor'" he cuddled against Cupid, "ta you 'n me, Ares an' Joxer, Romeo an' Juliet..."
"Who?"
"Ya don't gotta worry about them fah quite a while."
"I need to try to find out who this involved, because there's the possibility that the ones involved might mistake this for a quick, passionate fling."
"What's wrong with that?"
Cupid smiled at Strife indulgently. "There's nothing wrong with quick, passionate flings. But this..." He tapped Strife's nose. "This has the potential to be so much more--something deep and lasting. Wouldn't you wish that for anyone?"
"Sure." Strife giggled. "Cept maybe certain people--like Gabby, or Herc..."
"Strife..."
"I know, I know. I don't really mean it. Aftah all, we all know that Zeen an' Gabby are tha proverbial soul mates, an' it don't seem ta have mellowed either of 'em. But, maybe gettin somethin good in Herc's life would make 'im easier ta live with. He wasn't such a pain in tha but tha two times he was married." Strife sighed and snuggled closer to Cupid. "But knowin tha person in question, it's not like him findin anothah lastin relationship is somethin we need ta worry about."
Iolaus was disengaging a very plump rabbit from a snare. He'd known when he found this little trail that it should be a good place to set traps, but this was almost ridiculous. Three times he'd barely moved out of sight of a set snare before hearing the thrashing and high pitched squealing that told him another unwary rabbit was headed for the roasting spit. As much as he wanted a little more time to think, he couldn't justify going for any more game. One apiece and a spare was reasonable--even generous. Since they didn't have any means of preservation, any more would be a waste.
He snapped the rabbit's neck with a humane, quick twist, saying, "Sorry, Fuzzy. Hey, if you can't look where you're going any better than that, a fox or an owl would've gotten you soon, anyway. I just wish I could promise you that we're going to appreciate you more than we would. Herc really likes roasted rabbit. But I have a feeling neither one of us is going to be much in the mood to relish supper tonight. And I must be really bad off, because not only am I talking to a rabbit--I'm talking to a dead rabbit."
He sighed, then decided he'd gain a little more time by dressing the rabbits here instead of at camp. There was a convenient stump nearby, so he took a seat, unsheathed his knife, and got to work. Maybe by the time he finished Hercules would have gotten a little more at ease with what had happened.
He snorted softly. *Yeah. And maybe his dad will win the Faithful Husband of the Year Award.*
He got ready to spread the bed rolls, then stopped, staring at the two innocuous looking bundles of blankets. He realized that he and Iolaus usually spread their bedding right next to each other, without discussion. It had been like that for as long as he could remember, and he'd never seen anything odd about it. Now...
*Do I put my bed next to his, or does he put his bed next to mine? We must've done it a couple of thousand times, and for the life of me, I can't remember now. We just always end up side-by-side, almost touching most of the time.*
He closed his eyes in dismay. *Zeus, I hope I haven't been just doing that, assuming it was all right, and he's just been too polite to say anything. Maybe he's just been trying not to hurt my feelings. Maybe he lays there all night thinking he feels like he's going to be smothered by my closeness. Maybe I should stop thinking about this before I give myself a complex.* He glanced down and realized that he'd been wringing his hands. *Maybe it's too late for that. Maybe I ought to go ahead and do something to distract myself.*
He carefully built a pile of fuel and started it going. He realized that this activity was not going to work as a distraction, because he found himself thinking about the way Iolaus' hair glinted in the fire light, and the way his face would flush when he leaned in close to warm himself.
*This is ridiculous. Okay--we had sex...* He was sitting beside the fire, and now he shifted slightly, wincing when his ass ached. *Boy, did we have sex. That spring was damn sure hexed somehow, because I've never even considered doing anything like that before.*
Hercules poked at the fire with a stick, stubbornly trying to ignore the little voice in the back of his mind that was whispering that maybe he hadn't done something like that before, but he had damn sure thought about it.
"Are you sure?" Hercules was already reaching for the spit.
"Yeah."
"Thanks. You haven't eaten much."
Iolaus knew his reputation for his appetite. Confrontations about misappropriated food weren't rare. Iolaus didn't really steal, but he was very good at rationalizing when his stomach was empty. He shrugged. "I know. For some reason I'm just not that hungry."
"Really?" Hercules responded between tearing off mouthfuls of succulent meat. "For some reason I'm starving."
"Exercise will do that to you." Hercules froze, and Iolaus suddenly realized how that sounded. "All that walking we did today. Walk, walk, walk--and up hill most of the way, too. Then there was the swimming--that'll wear you out, and... uh..." He trailed off. "Boy, that's a good sized pile of wood you gathered!"
"Yeah. You know, I don't guess I want the rest of this after all. I'll just put it in the bag, and we can have it for breakfast."
"Good idea. I hope we come to another village soon. The last chunk of bread is getting a little, er, obstinate."
Hercules, who had just put away the rabbit, reached down and tapped his knuckle against the bread. There was a hollow rapping sound. "Oh, I don't know... Boil it for a couple of hours, pound it for awhile, get a good sharp axe to slice it..." He thumped it again. "Or we could save it for the next time we need to crack nuts."
Hercules closed the bag and picked up his bedroll, being careful to keep his back to Iolaus so that his friend wouldn't see the expression of conflicting emotions he knew he wouldn't be able to suppress. "I think we... I'll just turn in now. We'll be able to reach that next village on the map, if we start in good time and don't dawdle."
"I do not dawdle," Iolaus protested as he watched Hercules spread his blankets. "I stride, stroll, amble, and occasionally meander, but I don't dawdle."
They'd been sitting on opposite sides of the fire, and Hercules was spreading his roll right where he'd been sitting. Iolaus glanced at his own bundle, which was sitting right beside him. He wanted to lie beside Hercules, like usual. *Hell, I want to lay closer than usual. I want to crawl under that damn blanket with him. I want to BE his blanket. But to lay next to him, like usual, I'll have to pick up my roll and walk around the fire--make a deliberate move. And if he's deliberately lying down over there--maybe he doesn't want me to. Maybe he wants some space.*
Iolaus stifled a sigh. Some men never grasped the fact that you couldn't force intimacy. Oh, you might be able to physically over come someone's resistance, but that wasn't intimacy. People who had that mindset were potential rapists, or at the very least exploiters, as far as Iolaus was concerned--and he wasn't like that.
He knew that true closeness had to be mutual. He thought that he had that with Hercules--after a fashion. But he thought that Hercules either didn't realize it for what it was, or wasn't ready to admit it to himself--or anyone else. So, for the time being, he decided that it would be better not to push things. He spread his blankets on his own side of the fire and settled down. "Good night, Herc."
"Good night."
Silence descended, broken only by the snap of the fire, and the occasional stealthy sound of some night animal going about its business. Hercules lay on his back, staring up at the sky. He tried to trace the pictures in the stars, picking out the constellations that represented the different gods and goddesses. He didn't expect to go to sleep, but he did--eventually.
Right before he dropped off he thought, rather wistfully, *I guess he didn't feel like walking the few extra steps over here.*
