WARNING: most of the fiction on these pages contains strong language and explicit homoerotic material.
New story added 3 January, 2009
Cyberart by Selursera and Cycnus, featuring some of the beautiful men and gods who inhabit the Hercuverse.
My favourite places on the net for slash fiction.
He came back the next morning. He'd needed to get a little distance. Any normal mortal, and he'd have acted on his sudden desire. But this was both Uncle Herc's brother, and his current project. There'd be Tartarus to pay if he did what he wanted. So he'd slipped off to visit one of the very few of his mother's temples with female attendants.
Gods, this was tedious. How did mortals put up with this all day every day? The God of Love kicked his heels, metaphorically speaking, in the Council chamber, listening to droning voices boring on about taxes. He suddenly realised the king looked about as interested as he did. He was trying to disguise it, but the laboured enumeration of the different scales of taxation were about as exciting as Artemis and her whole virginity lecture. Cupid watched the king struggling to stay alert, then shifting slightly in his seat to ease his stiff back, his broad shoulders settling once again against the chair-back as his hand reached to briefly rub his cheek, an unconscious gesture but one which both displayed the impressive muscles in his arm to full advantage beneath the short sleeves of his shirt, and sent fantasies spiralling through Cupid's head. He imagined the king, instead of letting his hand fall back to the arm of his chair, moving his hand slowly across his cheek and then one finger tracing lightly along his lips. The finger pausing, and then his lips opening and sucking Cupid's finger in, his tongue curving around and licking it, eyes closing in pleasure, long eyelashes against his cheeks, lost in the delight at the god's touch.
Cupid's eyes flew open as the scraping noises on the stone floor warned him that chairs were being pushed back and the Council at length getting to their feet and ending the meeting. He followed the king, who was still talking quietly to one of the men as he made his way along the stone corridor. His shirt was tucked into his pants, which gave Cupid from his vantage point the most amazing view of his perfect ass. Beautifully proportioned, just begging for hands to run over the curves so clearly outlined by the soft clinging leather. Trying to keep his mind on the job, even while fully appreciating the view in front of him, Cupid wondered yet again why the king didn't have anyone.
He watched him through the informal lunch. Was he frigid? He had heard some people just weren't interested in sex - well, Artemis for one. How else could she have stayed whole and entire and chaste and superior for all these centuries? Actually, in her case, easily - to lose your virginity, you had to have something going for you in either the looks or personality department, preferably both. He watched Iphicles' full lips closing around a stalk of celery before he bit it cleanly in two, and couldn't believe that he was disinterested in sex. The man was built for pleasure, no doubt about that. And the unconscious sensuality with which he had welcomed the water smoothing over his skin last night, the way his tongue flicked out and took that drop of wine from his lower lip, these were not the movements of somebody who did not enjoy physical pleasure.
As the meal was finished, Cupid suddenly realised he had not once looked over the assembled company for a prospective bride for the king. He attempted to remedy that situation that afternoon. While the king returned to his Council chamber, Cupid strolled unseen amongst the ladies of the court. Too tall, too short, too loud, too common… Surely there must be someone worthy of the king? Damn, that one would have done beautifully if she hadn't been married. Or her - she was absolutely perfect; shame she was pregnant. But from the available females, he could not find one without some glaring fault. He sighed.
Sadly for the God of Love, that was not the case. There was one pretty little thing, heart-shaped face, dark hair and green eyes, but there was something about her he just couldn't quite like. Maybe if he watched her for longer, he'd find out for sure.
Resigned to spending more time at the court, Cupid followed the king about his evening business again. Once more, Iphicles retired to his chamber as soon as he could break free of his aides and courtiers. He again retreated to the dark balcony, where the occasional light moving across the garden showed some servant making their way from palace to stables, or a courtier taking the night air perhaps. He stood looking out into the darkness for a long time, unmoving, until something made him shiver. Hitching a hip onto the balustrade he sat sideways, so that for the first time Cupid could see his face.