Fic: Overheard Conversations 40/40
Author: Kerensa
Email: vkevans@yahoo.com Feedback please. Feedback or death (well, maybe that’s going a little too far)
Rating: R, so far
Fandom: Xena/Hercules, brief mention of food from Harry Potter series
Pairing: Ares/Joxer, Cupid/Strife, Hercules/Iolaus
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, I’m just borrowing them for a little fun. The same with the Harry Potter stories. I have no money, no property, I even have to borrow the food I eat, so please don’t sue me.
Warning: m/m; MPREG; talk of nonconsensual sex; talk of underage molestation, rape, and abuse; angst
Summary: Joxer and Strife are both pregnant and end up talking. Their
husbands, Ares and Cupid overhear their conversation and find out a lot more about their husband’s, especially Strife’s past, than they ever imagined.
Status: WIP
Series: Children At Play
Archive: Yes to AJCS, Make Believe, Beyond Cannon, Lone Tree Preserve and MPREG; anywhere else, sure just tell me first.
Website: Well, a LJ.
Notes: I want to thank my mother for some of the ideas in this story. She thought up the bad guy’s name and some ways to hurt poor Strife. Later in the series I will mention something, briefly, from the I LOVE LUCY show; bonus points if you can find it. Also, a brief appearance by some of the people on Andromeda. Beta’d by me and Spellcheck.

Chapter 40-Epilogue 2- Flashback from the flashback

Strife grinned over at Joxer, who smiled back happily. They looked around at the family gathering and shook their heads in unison. It wasn't often that you saw this many gods of Olympus in the same spot. Especially, without bloodshed.

Ganymede, the new God of Secret Meetings, was talking with Hera, the Goddess of Marriage and Childbirth, about an assignation that a young couple needed to make. If they didn't the young man would feel that the girl wasn't in love with him and run off to join the Athenian army. Both people would die, alone and childless. Aphrodite joined the conversation and added her two dinars worth of advice.

Amazingly, all three deities listened to one another. And considering that Aphrodite and Hera hated each other, and that Hera had been jealous of Dite and Ganymede (she'd seen Zeus eyeing the young man) for centuries, that was saying a lot.

Ares and Hercules were having an arm wrestling contest. Those watching knew that Ares could beat the demi-god any time he wanted to, just like he could in any fight they were in. (Hello, a god here.) But Ares let Hercules win sometimes, because Zeus had decreed it. He didn't want his baby boy to feel inferior. However, lately, Zeus had begun to realize that he wasn't doing right by his *legitimate* baby boy and had backed off on his decree.

Hercules fell to one side when Ares pinned his hand to the table, without any effort whatsoever. "Oops, guess I got lucky." Ares smiled winsomely and winked at Joxer. Hercules caught the wink. The demi-god eyed his brother suspiciously.

Iolaus cleared his throat and it was evident from the strained look on his face that he was trying to hold back the laughter. Obviously, being a smart guy, Iolaus had figured out that the gods were letting Hercules win most of his battles. The blond hunter tugged on his fiancé’s arm and pulled him over to one of the banquet tables that had been set up in Ares and Joxer's garden.

Strife plopped down on the grass beside the children. It was so wonderful to be able to do that, especially without any pain. The children were playing among the flowers and could do so safely. In the garden, as it always had been as long as Strife could remember, there were no thorns or thistles or anything to cause pain. Strife had always liked that about his uncle’s flowerbeds.

The cradles were nestled among the flowers and each had a little canopy over them to protect the new babies’ skin from the harsh sun. Cupid and Eve were running around, playing tag while the adults looked on indulgently.

Xena was talking with Gabrielle and Beru. The man from Eire had a proprietary arm around the Amazon woman’s waist and Gabrielle seemed happy. Xena was gesturing around the garden and had a bright purple rose tucked in the front of her bustier. The rose was one of Joxer’s own special inventions and a favorite among the gods.

“This has been a nice day,” Joxer said as he sank down beside Strife. The dark haired man took a peek at his sleeping daughter and tucked the blanket around her a little more.

“Yeah, it’s a nice change from tha fightin that usually goes on.”

Joxer nodded and gasped. “Uh, we may have spoken too soon.” He gestured to where Hera was walking towards Hercules and Iolaus.

“And maybe not.” Strife grinned and nodded at the scene. Hera had talked briefly to the pair and then pulled out…a golden apple.

Joxer’s mouth fell open at the same time as Hercules’ did. “Iolaus will be immortal too,” he breathed out quietly.

“Yeah, they can be tagethah forevah.”

Strife and Joxer smiled at each other. They liked the blond hunter and now he would be around from now on. “I’m so glad,” Joxer bounced a little where he sat. “Iolaus was always nice to me, even when I was just a klutzy nuisance.”

The God of Mischief narrowed his eyes, but before he could say anything, another voice spoke up. “You were *never* a nuisance,” Cupid growled. “They,” he jerked his head over his shoulder, at Joxer’s *friends*, “were the pains in the butt.”

Joxer smiled delightedly. “Thank you, Cupid that means a lot.”

“He isn’t sayin anythin that’s not true.” Strife crossed his arms and stared expectantly at his friend, upset that Joxer still felt that way, even after all these years. “If Hercules hadn’t been a demi-god *and* undah Zeus’ protection, he’d have been dead years ago. Xena has been undah Unc’s protection fah years and Gabrielle has been protected by her. And Iolaus, well, we know how many times he’s died and been brought back.”

Strife turned to look back at his best friend. “But ya didn’t have any special powahs or protection and ya survived all on yar own.”

Joxer idly played with a blade of grass while he thought. After a few moments he looked up at Strife and smiled. “Thank you.”

“I think you both survived,” Ares said solemnly as he walked up. Strife and Joxer looked up at him from their seated positions. “You survived and because of you both I’m better than I used to be.”

Strife blushed at the compliment and glanced over to see that Joxer was teary eyed. Cupid sat down behind Strife, slipping the mischief god into his lap. “And just look at what we’ve made.” He gestured to the godlings.

“We have a good life,” Strife stated quietly and all three of his family, his grown up family that is, nodded in agreement.

*****

“Angel, come here a minute, please.” Ares’ voice called to Joxer and, with one last look at his slumbering daughter, the God of Peace followed it back into their bedroom. What he saw there stopped him with a gasp.

Their regular bed was now a four-poster, brass bed. Red satin graced the bed, like a shimmering offering from an acolyte. And stretched out, like a sacrifice, was Ares. Complete with silver chains that held his powerful arms and legs tethered to the corners of the bed.

Joxer stood in the doorway and stared for a *very* long moment. Ares’ dark hair was spread out on the blood red pillow in silky, ebony curls. His husband’s spread position gave Joxer the ultimate in view of Ares’ beautiful manhood, the one that was hard and waiting for Joxer to come over and take care of it.

“Are you my sacrifice?” Joxer asked hoarsely. He thought he was going to pass out, because all the blood in his body had immediately spread downwards and all the oxygen in his body had run out into the night.

Ares grinned and lowered his eyelids in mock shyness. “Yes, my lord. I’m here for you to do *anything* you want to.”

Joxer slowly approached the bed and stared, taking his fill of the feast laid out before him. He sat down and ran a questing hand up Ares’ thigh. Ares tensed at the touch and arched his hips, trying to move Joxer’s hand in the right direction. The war god sighed in frustration when Joxer not only didn’t move his hand closer, but he moved it away altogether.

The former mortal looked at the small bedside table. A bottle of oil was warming in a bowl of hot water. There were several towels and, ah ha, just what he was looking for. Joxer took off the leather tie that was holding a cloth over some snacks for later. Holding up the strip, Joxer smiled wickedly at his husband. He reached between Ares’ legs and began to wrap the long piece of leather around the impressive genitalia.

“We wouldn’t want this to end too quickly, would we?” Ares grinned. He liked this new side to his lover, at least once in a while. The God of War had a feeling this was going to be a very *long* night.

*****

Cupid held up a paintbrush and pursed his lips thoughtfully. Strife lay between his legs, where the love god was kneeling over him. The mischief god was panting and flushed with excitement. “Ah ha,” Cupid said triumphantly. He dipped the brush into the pot that was balanced on the edge of the bed and ran the golden colored liquid around Strife’s left nipple.

Strife groaned and arched his back at the sensation. Cupid grinned wickedly and, picking up the pot, poured a thick stream of honey over Strife’s erect penis. The God of Mischief almost levitated off the bed as the honey oozed between his legs.

“Oh gods, Cupe.”

Cupid was satisfied now. He had reduced his hyper husband to a bundle of writhing limbs. Since he had found out that sex had always been painful for his husband, Cupid had resolved to make any more love making to be as pleasurable as possible. This was the first time since the birth of the twins that they were allowed to be fully intimate and he was going for all it was worth.

“Oh darn,” Cupid’s voice was low and seductive. Strife opened his eyes and Cupid was thrilled to see how the arousal had dilated them to where the pale blue was almost gone.

“We’re out of honey.” He tilted the pot that Jayce had given him all those months ago, over Strife’s sticky chest. “Whatever will I do now?”

He dropped the clay pot onto the floor and leaned down until he was just above one temptingly peaked nipple. Cupid stuck out his tongue and gave the small brown nub a passing lick. Strife gasped and then whimpered when Cupid sat back up.

“Hmmm, tasty.” He leaned over and gave the other side the same treatment. Cupid started to sit back up, but never got the chance once Strife grabbed hold of the back of his head and kept his mouth where it was. Cupid smiled and began to nibble. He was so pleased that Strife had finally started showing what he wanted in bed. The younger god had been so traumatized by Tryst that sex was something he either endured or at the very least was passive during. But not anymore…

“Cupiddddd…” he hissed when Cupid began to leave little bites across and down his body. “Please,” Strife whimpered when Cupid licked up the trails of honey, that he had painted on Strife’s body.

With a kiss to one bony hip, Cupid raised his head. “I have a lot more honey to take care of.” Strife started to answer but his words turned into a strangled scream as Cupid began to lick between his legs.

The love god wanted to prolong this first *pain free* time, so he deliberately avoided Strife’s erection that was demanding attention. Instead, he concentrated on the rest of Strife’s groin and was thrilled to discover that Strife squealed happily when the juncture of leg and hip was snacked on.

By the time Cupid took Strife’s erection in his mouth, the mischief god was thrashing around so much that it took all of Cupid’s strength to hold him to the bed.

*****

Strife thought he was going to go nuts. (Some people thought he already was, but I digress.) Cupid had been making love to him for hours now and didn’t show any signs of stopping soon. He hoped.

The twins had been fed just before they started having sex and were okay for a while. (Yeah yeah, I know.) In reality they’d need to be fed every two to three hours, but Apollo had come up with a formula to supplement their breast feedings. Even with godly powers, a man can only produce so much breast milk and Strife was attempting it for two of them. The formula could be used once a day and filled their little tummies up for hours. In this way, Strife and Cupid were lucky, and almost immediately the babies were sleeping through the night.

The mischief god gasped. His mind, and other things, was wrenched away from thoughts of his children and back to their bed, as Cupid inhaled Strife’s cock and tried to suck it off of his body. Strife gasped as Cupid enthusiastically licked and sucked, bringing Strife to the edge once more. It certainly wasn’t the first blow job that Strife had ever received, but it was, so far, the best, because it didn’t hurt him.

There was no pain anywhere, for the first time that Strife could remember. And gods, who knew making love could be so wonderful!

Strife cried out as he climaxed, arching his back up and his penis further down Cupid’s willing and talented throat. He collapsed back onto the bed like a molten lump of metal.

“Strife, Strife.” Cupid kissed his way back up Strife’s body and the mischief god could feel Cupid’s rigid length dragging along his hip.

“Cupid, I love ya.”

Cupid stopped licking the side of Strife’s neck and raised up onto one elbow. Looked down at his husband, Cupid brushed the sweaty dark hair out of Strife’s eyes and smiled. “I love you too, baby.”

Strife took hold of Cupid’s hips and, in a move that surprised Cupid, flipped the love god over, so that he was the one laying on the bed. The blond god grinned up at his lover, happy at the aggression. Strife began to move between Cupid’s legs and he decided that he didn’t care who was being more dominant, just as long as he got off…and soon.

*****

Strife and Cupid laid curled around one another. Pale limbs were entangled with tanned ones and dark and light hairs were mixed together on the pillow that they shared. They were alone in their bedroom. No one, not even the ghosts of lost loves or hated foes, would ever come between them again.

The End.