Cupid and Psyche

Here's my whacky Valentine offering, hope you guys like it  I wrote in a hurry so it's not mega-polished. This follows mythical legend very loosely - History buffs, you've been warned. x

***

Cupid sat against the wall with his arms dourly crossed. Unlike the soft blonde childlike figure romanticised by modern society, he didn't have fluffy white wings and was quite a large man, with a head of dark curls, hypnotic, pale-brown eyes and a strong jaw currently tight with resentment.

Like the tales, however, he didn't wear much. Something of a white undergarment covered his nudity, the rest was rippling muscle on display. Though beautifully handsome, the deity was hardly approachable since his wife left him.

"Ah, there you are," smiled an older man, peeking around the corner of a pillar. "Come in, she's waiting. Leave the weapon with me, thank you."

Cupid wordlessly strode up the stairs and handed the hefty bronze crossbow to the man without looking at him. Proceeding further, he beheld a plump, pretty woman seated on a tall throne. She had a kind face and wore a sheer, glistening white dress which seemed to dissolve to mist at the hem. The area was, in general, shrouded in mystical fog.

"Hera," Cupid said flatly. "You summoned me?"

"There have been complaints about your work, Cupid," the woman gently replied. Her soft voice was somehow both sympathetic and chastising.

Cupid stiffened. "Excuse me?"

"Your matches are not failing, but they are not particularly heart-lifting," Hera said apologetically.

"Well, my matches are not failing," Cupid said curtly uncrossing his arms to place his hands on his hips. "Why have I been summoned?"

Hera hesitated and looked to the side. "I think you should step out now, dear."

Cupid stared with amazement when a girl emerged from the smoke to face Hera. She was divinely beautiful, with glossy blonde hair, exotic green eyes and lush pouting lips. Her cheeks were currently flushed with anger, which made her more desirable.

Recovering, Cupid narrowed his eyes. "You," he sneered, crossing his arms again, his eyes raking the girl's delectable figure, tastefully sheathed in a dress of pure gold. "Little snitch."

Hera shook her head disapprovingly. "Is it true you threatened destructive matches if Psyche refused your hand?"

"No!" Psyche hotly interjected, indignantly crossing her arms to match Cupid's stance, though hers was far less intimidating. "He said if I didn't let him have his way with me-!"

"Hera, this is ridiculous," Cupid sharply interrupted. "My personal squabbles have nothing to do with my duties."

"You generally do well, Cupid. The majority of your matches deserve full credit, however..." Hera frowned and touched the side of her temple. "Two suicides and one murder-suicide in three weeks?"

"True love can have that effect," Cupid snapped, still glaring at Psyche, who was stubbornly avoiding his gaze. "I stand by my work."

"I am sorry, Cupid, but a love that pushes humans to take life is a failure," Hera remarked, looking between the two brooding deities. "Death concludes a match, and a good match is long-lasting. I shouldn't need to tell you that."

"I made you a Goddess, and you pull this crap?" Cupid hissed at Psyche.

"I would like to roam the sacred mountains without being set upon by you!" Psyche hissed back.

Cupid bared his teeth in a dirty grin. "It doesn't seem that way when you kiss me back and reach down to stroke my-"

"Cupid and Psyche!" Hera shrilly interrupted. "Clearly something needs to be resolved between you. Let's discuss solutions."

"I think he should be punished for trapping mortals in tormenting matches," Psyche said haughtily, tossing her hair.

"I think she should be sealed in a chamber with me for three days," Cupid smiled, beginning to enjoy himself. "You've been blushing since you stepped from hiding, little tease."

Psyche turned her nose up and didn't respond.

Hera scrutinised them. "Psyche, dear, you seem to have been following Cupid's activities for some time," she speculated. "He is your former lover and he did make you a deity."

"Hah!" Cupid smirked under his breath.

"I felt responsible, that's why I tracked him," Psyche said defensively. "He's no right to deliberately misuse his privileges in my name."

"Privileges?" Cupid retorted. "Do you know how heavy that thing is? I'd like to see you lift it and take a shot. You'd be a complete disaster..."

"Cupid," Hera warned.

"...You'd make a princess fall for a goat!" he finished rebelliously.

Hera's indulgent blue eyes hardened. "I've decided upon an adequate solution," she said brightly, though there was a steeliness in her voice that showed her patience was at an end.

"You," she pointed at Cupid. "Are going back to Earth to fix the three remaining matches you've deliberately sabotaged. You're to rectify them all by Valentine's day."

Cupid's smile dropped. "What?"

"HAH!" Psyche sneered.

"Hera, Valentines is in three days!" Cupid spluttered.

"And you, little snoop," Hera smiled at Psyche, who suddenly looked distinctly nervous. "Are going to help him."

"WHAT!" Psyche shrieked, whirling in a rage to glare at Cupid when he laughed. "Hera, you can't-! I was exposing his misconduct!"

"From vindictiveness, Psyche. There are many deities who are committing worse acts of indiscretion, but you are fixated on Cupid." Hera shrugged. "It'll be good for you."

"He'll bend me over and take me the moment we set foot on Earth!" Psyche angrily protested.

Cupid's eyes wickedly flared, and he didn't deny it.

"No, he won't." Hera waved her hand, and a sheer, golden halo floated from her fingertips and wafted to land on Cupid's head, where it immediately absorbed into his dark hairline and disappeared.

Looking murderous, Cupid tentatively felt around his temples. "Oh, shit."

"He won't do anything without your permission, Psyche," Hera smiled. "Tease him as much as you like. But be mindful you have an important task with dire consequences should you fail."

Psyche was busy smugly poking her tongue out at Cupid, who was still looking viciously displeased about the halo.

"Children!" Hera exclaimed, regaining their attention. "If you do not rectify the existing matches, you will be trapped on Earth for another year. Until the next Valentine's day, to be precise. Ample time to fix your work, but far more than you'll need and certainly more time than you'll want to spend on that planet."

Cupid and Psyche stared speechlessly.

"And," Hera continued, warming to her decision. "Should you be tardy, you'll have no heavenly resources to get you by. Immortal you may be, but if you want the comforts of shelter, food and material pleasantries, you might have to consider employment. Your crossbow will be protected, of course, Cupid."

"You mean...get...a...job?" Cupid said with slow horror, looking sickened.

"Psyche's pettiness aside, you deliberately orchestrated ill-fated matches from pure spite of her rejection. Your sin is greater," Hera said pointedly.

Seething, Cupid bit his lip to stifle a retort he'd regret.

"But Hera, if we fail, the halo will still be in effect, right?" Psyche said fearfully. "It'll be protected, like the crossbow. Hera?"

Hera lifted her eyebrows with a placid smile. "Enjoy your time together, and don't be late."

***

Psyche moaned and rolled onto her back, blinking her eyes open. The sun warming her face vanished behind the bulk of Cupid, his erection pressing into her hip.

"Got you," he teased, pinning her wrists and nipping her neck. "Fixing the matches will be easy. Then I'll have three days to fuck your brains out."

"Get lost!" Psyche shouted, and watched with satisfaction as Cupid quickly withdrew, his fists at his temples.

"Oooouch," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair to ruffle the dark curls. "Halo works. It was still worth a shot."

Satisfied, Psyche stood and dusted sand from her gold dress. "I'll have to change out of this," she said regretfully, smoothing her fingers across the fluid material.

Grinning, Cupid clicked his fingers and Psyche shrieked when her dress vanished.

"Curse you, Cupid!" She squealed, frantically trying to cover herself.

Cupid would have been laughing, but he was too busy taking in Psyche's perfect breasts, flat belly and toned legs. "It's difficult to believe the God's didn't make you," he said huskily, taking a step closer.

Psyche came to her senses and spun, dressed in hiking gear by the time Cupid reached her.

"Don't touch me," she snapped, waving Cupid off.

Disappointed, Cupid moved back to spin into a sharp, midnight-blue suit. "You might want to change your outfit," he lightly warned, dragging the crossbow out of the sand and holding out his other hand to her. "Let's go."

Psyche swallowed an angry retort and accepted his hand. "I hate you."

"You're obsessed with me," he chuckled, squeezing her hand, they departed for the first destination.

***

"Where are we?" Psyche whispered.

They were in a pitch-black, enclosed space. Cupid pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head.

Focusing in the dark, Psyche realised they were in a walk-in wardrobe and there was a couple arguing in the room.

"You're wearing that to impress him, I know it!" the man outside exploded. "Do you realise women are lining up to be with me, and you flirt with a waiter, right in front of me!"

"Why would I do that? Why won't you believe anything I say!" the woman shouted back. "He asked if I wanted a refill and...Peter wait!"

Glass shattered and a door slammed. Cupid listened a moment then nodded and stepped out.

A pretty woman with short-red hair was sitting on the bed in a yellow ball gown, crying. She jumped with surprise and her mouth fell open when Cupid and Psyche emerged. Her eyes widened with horror when she saw Psyche's hiking boots sinking into the expensive white rug.

"My carpet!" The woman cried, clawing a hand through her hair and dislodging the gold tiara. "We said the bedroom was off limits! What the Hell is she wearing? This is a black-tie event!"

Cupid grinned and tapped the woman's forehead. She immediately fell back to the bed in a deep sleep.

"You fixed a paranoid narcissist with a sensitive artist?" Psyche shook her head. "What's wrong with you?"

"Hey, it's fire in the bedroom."

Psyche rolled her eyes. "So, what do we do?"

"You change into something more appropriate while we wait for him to come back. It's easier if we can get them together."

"Two people with one arrow. Are you really that lazy?" Psyche hissed.

"It's the simplest way!" Cupid said defensively. "I don't want to spend a whole year here."

"The job thing really rattled you."

"Not as rattled as you will be once this halo is off my head."

In a huff, Psyche changed into a pretty red cocktail dress with black stilettos, her blonde locks curled into a sophisticated bun. Noticing Cupid's eyes dart to her cleavage, she popped a juicy, round breast from the V-neck and began to play with her nipple.

"Wanna suck?" she cooed, tweaking the nipple to a rosy stiffness.

Cupid's face darkened. "Don't do that."

"Should I get the other one out?"

The brown of Cupid's light eyes turned almost black with menace and arousal. "You're going to pay for this. Maybe not tonight, but..."

Psyche hurriedly tucked her breast back into the dress and Cupid dragged her into the cupboard seconds before the bedroom door opened.

A blonde man in a burgundy suit peered into the bedroom. "Hello?"

Psyche frowned. "That's not him, is it?" she whispered, dialling her voice down to a level that humans couldn't decipher.

Cupid shook his head, soundlessly twirled Psyche in the cupboard and held her to the wall. "Just one kiss, Psyche. Come on."

Psyche thoughtfully bit her lip, watching Cupid's gaze drop hungrily to where her teeth dented the lush flesh.

"I don't know..." she breathed, pressing her palm to the crotch of Cupid's suit pants, rubbing over the growing bulge. "Bet you'd like to bury this inside me. Remember when Hades was watching?"

Cupid's breathing grew heavier. "He offered me a sphere of souls for one night with you."

"No!" Psyche gasped. "What about Persephone?"

Cupid lowered his head to brush his lips across Psyche's ear. As always, she shivered responsively. "You could say she also likes to watch."

Feeling breathless, Psyche trailed her fingers along the borders of Cupid's thick shaft. "Should I take you in my mouth right now and pretend Persephone is watching?" she broke off laughing when Cupid tensed against her. "Move it, stupid Cupid."

Cupid groaned but didn't move; his hands balled into fists against the wall. "Psyche, you are going to pay!"

"Back off!" Psyche confidently whispered, smiling when Cupid lightly staggered.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Psyche and Cupid peered through the slats. Peter was back, staring furiously at the pair on the bed. He was average height, overweight with a full head of black hair and childish features. The beautiful redhead was still out of it, her skirt halfway to her waist, the burgundy suit on top of her and clearly about to try something sexy.

"Hey, I didn't...I mean, she wanted me to..." the man said uneasily, looking between the couple. It was difficult to defend his actions against an unconscious person.

Peter lunged onto the bed and began to strangle the much better-looking blonde.

"Are you going to do something?" Psyche whispered.

Cupid clicked his fingers, and the woman woke up and started screaming. Peter dragged the other guy off the bed, opened the bedroom door and literally kicked him out of it.

"Lazy!" Psyche hissed up at Cupids smug face. Again, he'd somehow navigated her back to the wall and was looking predatorily down at her.

"Just one kiss, Psyche," he murmured, tilting his head. "Please? It's killing me being this close to you."

"Good," Psyche stoutly replied. "Suffer."

Cupid narrowed his eyes. "Whether it's back in Heaven or domestic bliss on Earth, this halo is eventually going to come off and you're going to be very sorry."

"Nasty threats," Psyche glared.

Cupid feigned confusion. "But you like it nasty!"

"Cupid!"

He sighed and released her, looking back through the door slats. "Well, they're doing better than I am," he complained, slowly drawing the crossbow from nowhere, he slowly pushed the doors open and aimed.

Psyche peered around him and saw the volatile couple on the bed, fervently going at it. She tentatively reached and let her fingers curl around Cupid's bicep and he immediately paused.

"What?" he murmured, savouring her touch.

"It's going to be their last time, isn't it?" Psyche whispered, transfixed by the sight.

It was a strange coupling. Peter was on top of the redhead, kissing her hungrily and between kisses muttering he could do better, that he was settling but couldn't stop. Likewise, the woman was urgently thrusting, clawing Peter's shirt to draw him closer whilst loudly bemoaning the fact she'd fallen for the world's worst bastard.

"She sounds just like you," Cupid joked, before peering down the weapon and firing. A transparent arrow shot out and invisibly pierced the love-making couple.

"That'll dissolve amicably. One down, two to go." Cupid checked the crossbow then reached for Psyche's hand. "Come on."

***

"That was easy," Psyche remarked, dipping her toes in the freshwater stream. "We'll be back in no time."

"That was basic. Valentine's Day isn't simultaneous around the world. I'm leaving the tricky one till last."

Psyche thoughtfully nibbled her lip. "How is it tricky?"

"Aside from the nature of the mismatch, the culture isn't as flexible. The location is very 'open', so we can't exactly move from closet to closet; we'd be sighted for sure. Basically, the use of our powers will be limited."

Psyche's eyes flashed forebodingly. "Cupid, tell me you didn't go to the past."

"If I were that stupid, I'd be serving a sentence with Hades," Cupid grunted, scooping water onto the crossbow until it shimmered.

Satisfied it had been cleansed, he laid the bronze piece aside and turned his attention to Psyche, tentatively reaching to tuck a blonde strand behind her soft ear and caress the silky lobe.

"You must really want a headache," Psyche mused, jerking her head from his touch and merrily shaking her hair free of the bun to let it flow down her shoulders.

"You're punishing both of us," Cupid accused. When she ignored him, he turned his attention to the flowing rapids. It was the first peaceful moment together in decades.

Finally, Cupid plucked a smooth stone to skim across the water's surface. "Why did you divorce me, Psyche?" he asked quietly.

Psyche glowered at the water.

"You want me to chase you," Cupid said frankly. "When I do get my hands on you, you love it. Then you go back to hating me again for some reason you never identified. It was fun for a while, but I've had enough. That's why I gave you an ultimatum. I want you back."

Still staring at the water, Psyche angrily shook her head at him. "Maybe I wasn't always a Goddess, but I'm not as stupid as you thought."

"More riddles," Cupid said wryly. He turned to his side and traced a finger down Psyche's shoulder, knowing her heart raced from his touch. "I can't keep my hands off you. Tell me. What did I do?"

Again, Psyche shook her head. When she finally looked at Cupid, her eyes were bitter. "I just want to finish this and get back to Heaven."

The earnestness left Cupid's face and his eyes hardened. "Have it your way," he shrugged.

Psyche was too busy scowling to be prepared for Cupid to launch on top of her. As she drew a shocked breath at the sight of Cupid's hard chest, his mouth came crashing down, their lips sealed by the pressure of his tantalising kiss. Cupid cupped her face and guided her, shifting for a deeper kiss; their tongues mingled.

Large hands started on Psyche's taut thighs, sliding up her narrow waist to encompass her breasts and knead, wringing a moan from her. Though caught up in Cupid's heat, Psyche dimly became aware of the seduction.

The kiss was broken, and Cupid rolled off her with a yelp, clutching his head.

"Idiot!" Psyche snapped, trying to ignore the gushing heat between her thighs. She wiped her mouth as though to remove the kiss.

"It was worth it," Cupid said faintly, lightly shaking his head as the sharp pain ebbed.

Still rattled from his surprise attack, Psyche stood from the riverbank, hands on hips. "Well, where next?" she demanded.

Cupid smiled wanly; his warm, lustful brown eyes on Psyche's tempting curves. "Italy." He slowly stood up and gave himself a brisk shake.

Seething, Psyche glared at him and crossed her arms to hide that her nipples were hard as pebbles. "Fine," she said acidly. "Let's go."

Cupid laughed, his eyes on her chest. "You have to hold my hand to get there, princess," he grinned.

Psyche glowered and bit her lip. "Do you know what's going to happen, when you fix matches, good and bad?"

Cupid shrugged, though still clearly preoccupied with lustful thoughts. "I have an inkling."

"What about the last couple?"

"The woman would have left him," Cupid said dismissively. "And he'd spend the rest of his life making her miserable, finding ways to show how happy he was with other women. All display. Either an accidental overdose on her part, or he'd drink-drive and finish himself. Their toxic cycle would go on for years before it came to that."

"That's horrible, Cupid," Psyche said quietly. "You once took pride in your work."

"Don't reprimand me," Cupid sneered. "Unless have the guts to tell the truth about why you left."