A couple days ago, Joey posted a challenge of "Place Ares temple, guests 
Ares god of war and from other world Cupid god of war."

Oooh, the images *that* brought to mind.

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Clash of the War Gods
by Lianne Burwell
April 1998
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Ares slouched on his throne, bored out of his skull. He wasn't sure which 
of his temples it was, and he didn't much care. It was always the same 
old thing. Pop in, listen to a few petitions, perform a few miracles, 
leave the rubes panting for more. Boring. Next, he'll head off to oversee 
a battle somewhere. Boring. He wished that something *interesting* would 
happen, for once.

"Yo, Uncle Ares."

But not that. Anything but that. Appropriately enough for his mood, there 
was a rumble of thunder in the distance.

"What is it, Cupid," he snarled at his nephew. Cupid held up his hands.

"Chill, man. Mom just asked me to drop off a message."

Ares sighed. Sometimes Aphrodite could be an even greater pain than her 
son. Of course, sometimes she could be a lot of... fun. But, at the 
moment, he was interested in something a little less... sugary. Cupid was 
as attractive as his mother. The blond hair hanging in his eyes, the 
perpetual slight beard stubble, the fluffy white wings, the skimpy outfit 
showing off an admittedly nice physique. A delectable picture, but just 
too damned *sweet*.

"Well, what is it?" he asked, wanting to get rid of the young god as 
quickly as possible so that he could go back to brooding in peace about 
how bored he was.

"Sheesh, you're in a bad mood today," Cupid pouted. "Here." Cupid stepped 
forward, holding out a scroll.

But, as he moved, the storm struck in full force. There was a flash of 
lightening, and Ares shut his eyes in reaction. He opened them, blinking 
away the after-images.

Then he blinked again.

Cupid was still standing in front of him, but it wasn't Cupid. Cupid 
didn't smirk that way.

"Well, well, well," The vision said. "This is certainly interesting. Not 
at all what it was like a moment ago." He watched as the young man... 
prowled around the temple, peering at the tapestries of battle scenes, 
dipping a finger in the blood pool, then fastidiously sucking it clean.

Physically, he looked like Cupid, but, instead of white, he was wearing 
black leather, with silver-metal decorations. And the scars... He had 
battle scars, while the Cupid he knew did not. This Cupid was as muscular 
as the other Cupid, but it had a harder edge. He looked like the muscles 
were for use, not show. And the way he moved. Still graceful, like a cat, 
but with a dangerous edge. Not a house cat at all, but a stalking panther 
instead. Ares felt his groin tighten in appreciation. It looked like he 
was going to get his wish, after all.

"And who, in Tartarus, are you?" He demanded. Don't want to be *too* 
easy, after all.

The new Cupid chuckled darkly, sending shivers down his spine. "I must 
say, Uncle Ares, I like the new look. A moment ago, this place was full 
of filmy draperies and flowers."

"Flowers? What the..." he stopped, remembering the *last* time there'd been 
a lightening strike near one of his temples and groaned. "Not that 
alternate world shtick again."

"Alternate world?" Cupid asked, absently, as he checked the edge on the 
sword sitting on Ares' altar.

"Yeah, the one where my do-gooder brother is called the Sovereign, and my 
counterpart is god of..." he spat. "*Love*." He rolled his eyes, the 
thought making him sick to his stomach.

"Then you would be god of... what?"

"War, of course."

Cupid smirked, moving to stand in front of Ares, well inside his personal 
space. Ares snarled, slightly. The urge to attack the young god was 
growing by the moment. He hadn't been this hot in centuries.

"And, here, I'm god of...?"

"Love."

Cupid stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter. It bounced 
off of the walls, and shot straight through Ares.

"So *you* are god of war here? Somehow, I have a hard time picturing 
*that*, Uncle."

Ares stood, growling, fury overriding lust. "Try me and find out, *boy*."

"Oooh. A challenge. I so *love* a challenge."

Without warning, a foot lashed out, connecting solidly with Ares' chest, 
sending him flying backwards into the wall behind him. He pulled to his 
feet, shaking his head.

"Not bad. Not bad at all," he said with a smirk, then followed through 
with an uppercut to the blond's chin, lifting him off his feet. The wings 
spread, and the other Cupid landed on the other side of the temple, 
rubbing his chin, a feral grin on his face.

The fight was on.

* * * * *

Some time later - and neither was sure how *much* later - both men were 
bruised and bloody. Cupid had learned that *this* Ares was no slouch with 
fists or blades, and Ares had learned that *this* Cupid had razor-sharp 
blades hidden under the feathers in his wings.

But, surprisingly, Cupid had gained the upper hand. Maybe it was the 
wings. It gave him two more limbs to strike with than Ares. Whatever the 
reason, Ares finally found himself pressed into a corner behind the altar 
by the smaller god. He was bleeding, sweating and more turned on than he 
could *ever* remember being.

"Mmmm... You are *definitely* more interesting than *my* Uncle Ares. What 
a wimp he is. Of course... he thinks that I'm a complete psychopath. And 
you know what?" He leaned in closer to the bound Ares, and bit down hard 
on his earlobe. The pain sent electric shocks through Ares' entire body. 
"He's *right*.

"*And*," he purred, reaching down to cup a leather-covered bulge. "I plan 
to enjoy myself with you. It's been a while since someone was as much a 
challenge, and I'll bet it's been the same for you, hmmm?"

Ares growled deeply, and reached for Cupid, then pulled back as the sharp 
wings flexed, warningly.

"Uh, uh, uh. I am *not* foolish enough to let you get your hands on me." 
Casually using his advantage of position, he tossed Ares at the altar, 
then landed on top of him.

"Now let's see. Do great minds think alike? Ah, I see they do." Reaching 
past Ares' head, he found the restraints that were attached to the 
corners of the altar. Before Ares could stop him, Cupid had his hands 
shackled.

"I'm tempted to use the leg restraints, but that would make what I plan 
to do... difficult, don't you think?"

"Now wait a mmmmphhh...."

Cupid smiled down at Ares, who was trying to spit out the leather gag. He 
could have used his powers, he supposed, but where was the fun of that? 
Besides, he was intrigued. It would be interesting to see what this 
alternate Cupid had in mind. His counterpart was an excellent, if overly 
gently, bed partner.

"Now what to do first? Choices, choices."

Ares watched as Cupid unlaced his vest. Then he gasped as sharp 
fingernails scratched across the bared flesh, drawing blood. A tongue 
followed, delicately lapping the blood.

"Mmm. Lovely."

A sweep of the wings, and the laces of Ares' breeches were sliced 
through. So was the leather below the laces, and there was a fine line of 
blood on the skin below that. For a moment, his balls tried to climb out 
of sight in shock.

"Awww," Cupid said with a pout. "Did I scare it?" He yanked off the 
remains of the breeches, taking Ares' boots with them. He reached out to 
squeeze Ares' balls, then jerked roughly at his cock. They suddenly 
decided to take an interest in the proceedings again.

"That's better." Cupid dipped his head to mouth at the cock, deliberately 
using his teeth. Ares gasped through the gag, and twisted in the 
restraints. He knew he wasn't getting out of them. He'd made them 
himself, and knew they were stronger than him. He'd never expected to 
*be* in them.

The mouth hung onto his cock, despite his writhing. Now sucking, now 
biting. He had the feeling that he was going to end up with bruises in 
places you don't *want* bruises. Sugary, this was not. He *loved* it.

Finally, Cupid bent his legs back, pressing his knees into his chest 
until he could barely breath. One push, and Cupid was completely 
embedded. He immediately began thrusting, not stopping to let Ares adjust.

This wasn't making love. It wasn't even *sex*. It was pure animal 
rutting; hard, fast and completely unconcerned with its partner. All Ares 
could do was grip the chains attached to his restraints and try to keep 
up. The rhythm was hard and pounding, lubricated only by his own blood. 
His cock stood at attention, but was getting *no* stimulation. The cock 
inside him seemed to be hitting new depths with every plunge.

Ares was on cloud nine. Never had he *ever* been dominated this way. It 
was a good thing that this Cupid didn't belong in his world, because 
they'd probably kill each other, either on the battlefield or in bed. 
Might be fun to try, though.

The only objection he had was that it was over too fast. Cupid exploded 
inside him, roughly biting at the back of his thigh, hard enough to draw 
blood. Then he collapsed on top of Ares. As he landed, his body pressed 
down on Ares' cock, and that was all the stimulation needed to finish him 
off. His eyes rolled back, and he rode the wave of feelings.

* * * * *

When Ares drifted back to coherence, Cupid had released the restraints.

"Well, much as I've enjoyed this little... interlude, I really gotta get 
going. I've got a war brewing in Asia Minor that I wanna keep an eye on. 
So... How do I get home?"

Ares shook his head, trying to collect his thoughts. The storm was still 
raging overhead. "There was a lightning strike right before the exchange. 
For that matter, Hercules tricked me into arranging some lightning when 
he wanted to retrieve that silly mortal friend of his from your world."

Cupid thought about it for a moment. "Lightning. I can arrange that."

He stepped away from Ares. "Well, it's been fun. I'll look you up the 
next time I'm in the area. See ya."

He smirked, and waved goodbye to Ares, who had finally pulled himself 
upright on the altar, still naked. There was a flash of light, and the 
after-images blinded him.

When his sight had cleared, Cupid was still standing in front of him.

But this Cupid was wearing white. He held a crumpled scroll in his hand, 
and it was covered in suspicious looking stains. He had a dazed look on 
his face that seemed to scream 'I have been thoroughly fucked, and loved 
every second of it'.

Ares held out his hand. The scroll was dropped in it, and Cupid 
disappeared with a flash.

Ares chuckled, and summoned up some clothes for himself. The scroll was 
an invitation to one of Aphrodite's orgies, Sparta, of all places. Ares 
had no intention of going. God or no god, he didn't think he was going to 
be able to get it up for a month.

Remembering Cupid's face before he'd left, he wondered what his 
counterpart was like in bed. The effects looked impressive.

Maybe someday he'd get the chance to find out. The thought made him smile.

END