A Shot in the Ass

A Valentine’s Day Tale as told by Cupid.

The idea came to me a few years ago on the first of January. It was a holiday they celebrated in Bay City called New Year’s Day, or as it was known in ancient Greece, nothing. We didn’t celebrate the new year in those days, probably because they hadn’t invented orgies yet. That wasn’t until Julius Caesar created Saturnalia in ancient Rome many centuries later.

Starsk had always been in love with Hutch, and Hutch with Starsk, but if I’d left things up to Fate, I might still be waiting for them to admit it. Fate has the patience of a saint; in fact, he’s got more patience than most of the saints we know. He always insists that things will work out when they’re meant to, even if it takes years.

I brought it up to Fate that same day and we made a bet. He’s very competitive, if you didn’t know. We were also both drunk off our asses. So there’s that.

The bet was this: to see which one of us could make Starsk and Hutch profess their love to each other on February 14th — St. Valentine’s Day. Either Fate would bring them together at long last, or I would take matters into my own hands, via my bow and arrow. The only problem was, I needed Starsk to be at Hutch’s apartment that day, and there was no guarantee he would, but I secretly hoped that Fate would unwittingly make that happen.

Our friend Valentinus was honored that we chose his namesake day, and was eager to see how things turned out.

There had been so many times when I was sure the professing of eternal love — and the ensuing shagging — was going to happen, but it never did.

For instance, that time Hutch was sick from the heroin withdrawal. It took weeks for him to recover from the shakes and insomnia and nightmares, and Starsk spent every one of those nights sleeping on Hutch’s sofa. He was awake a lot of those nights, too, listening to Hutch tossing and turning in his bed.

I kept waiting for Fate to do his thing, only to be disappointed when Starsk packed up his stuff one day and went back home to wherever it was he lived.

Of course, Starsk had no idea that Psyche and I had been watching him every night on that sofa. He didn’t even notice that I’d turned us around to face him. We’d previously been facing the front door, but the first night when Starsk finally seemed asleep, I whispered to her that I wished to look at him. I told her that watching the front door in the middle of the night was hella boring.

She countered with ‘But Eros, what if some bad guys break in here while Hutch and Starsk are asleep?’

‘Well, so what if they do?’ I replied. Even if a couple of bad guys did show up, I said, what was I gonna do about it? Shoot my arrow at one of them? That might work if the bad guy I hit fell in love with his co-bad guy and they immediately left to get themselves a motel room. But it could seriously backfire if the bad guy fell in love with Hutch or Starsk instead.

So facing the sofa it was.

But Psyche still didn’t like the idea. She was afraid one of the humans would notice we’d moved position during the night and get suspicious. I assured her it would be fine. In the condition he was in, I doubted Hutch would even notice if I grew back my broken wing and flew across the room, let alone if we turned a few degrees to the left.

And Starsk only had eyes for Hutch. I knew he wouldn’t notice if we changed direction on the coffee table. Even when Starsk was staring in our general direction, he wasn’t really looking at us. He was either watching the TV or staring out towards the front window. I told Psyche he stared like that because he was daydreaming about Hutch, while she thought he was thinking about his cah, the one Hutch called the Striped Tomato, which apparently was outside on the street below.

Neither of us had any idea what a cah even was, or a tomato, for that matter. We didn’t have them in ancient Greece or even in ancient Rome. Contrary to popular belief, spaghetti sauce didn’t exist when Vespasian built the Colosseum. Tomatoes didn’t arrive in Italia until centuries later, after that explorer from Genoa discovered the Indies.

Fate had to explain to us what a tomato was. He gets around, so he knows things. Us, we’re stuck here in Bay City on this coffee table all day. Sometimes life ain’t fair, but what are ya gonna do? Even Fate couldn’t help us with that. He just explained, mysteriously, that it was our fate to be stuck there. He broke out in a cackling laugh when he said it.

Did I mention that sometimes Fate can be an asshole?

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, the bet. You’ve probably heard that if I shoot someone with my magic arrow, they’ll immediately fall madly in love with the nearest human. Unfortunately, the rules aren’t actually that specific, so they’ll fall in love with the nearest mammal. And before we amended the rules, it was even worse, because it applied to any living creature.

As you can imagine, that was a disaster, because there are creatures everywhere, even if you usually don’t notice them. Ants, for example. I begged Jupiter (aka Zeus, for you Ancient Greekophiles) to at least change the rules to mammals, for Jupiter’s sake and he finally did. He saw what happened when the humans fell hopelessly in love with ants, bees, and assorted birds and reptiles. The bees were the worst. Those love stories never worked out the way anyone wanted, because of course, the human would immediately get stung and the bee would promptly die.

Jupiter finally agreed to amend the rules to mammals only. Said that was the best he could do, take it or leave it. I just had to make sure there weren’t any non-human mammals lurking nearby whenever I drew my bow. Things work out best if the two humans are physically near each other, to avoid the possibility that a cat wouldn’t appear from behind a cupboard or something and fuck up the whole plan. Cats like to do that on purpose, the sneaky bastards. Why do you think so many of them are buried with the Pharaohs in ancient Egypt?

Fortunately, Hutch didn’t have any pets, and his plants didn’t count. Like I said, it only applies to mammals. Although there was that ONE time when Jupiter, bored out of his mind one day, played a prank and turned an innocuous looking 20-foot-tall palm tree into a sentient being, and some poor sucker fell in love with her, climbing her trunk in a desperate bid to grasp her coconuts. This was a couple thousand years ago in the south Pacific. Fiji, I think. It was unnerving to witness, to be honest.

But that asshole Jupiter just laughed and laughed.

After I protested, he finally put the human out of his misery by hurling a coconut at the guy’s head, knocking him out of the tree, where he lay on the ground, senseless. The spell was broken, along with both of the guy’s legs, unfortunately.

There had been years past when I desperately wanted to shoot Hutch or Starsk, but ever since my lover Psyche and I ended up on Hutch’s coffee table, my arrow could only do its magic on St. Valentine’s Day, and Starsk had never been to Hutch’s apartment on that day. At least not alone. Most years, Hutch was either out with a female human or he’d bring one back to his apartment.

There was one year when Starsk came to the apartment along with two human females. I thought about shooting one of the men, but decided it would be too risky, as the women were always sitting too close to them and I didn’t want to take a chance.

Another time, Hutch arrived home with a beautiful Russian ballerina, and the two of them proceeded to make out directly in front of us. Psyche thought it was very romantic, but I was disgusted. I wanted desperately for Hutch to be with Starsk, not with this female interloper.

When St. Valentine’s Day finally arrived the year of the bet, Fate and Valentinus joined Psyche and me in Hutch’s apartment to see how things would turn out. Would Starsk make an appearance or would Hutch bring a female home instead? We had until midnight to find out.

The day passed by excruciatingly slowly. In the morning, Hutch got dressed, gulped down a quick cup of coffee, and slung his holster over his shoulder as he left, whistling a happy tune as he said goodbye to his plants. For hours, the four of us waited in the silent apartment, passing the time by playing chess and mah-jongg until Helios descended his golden chariot over the western horizon and the winged Nyx ushered her night upon the world. But Hutch still did not return.

It was mere minutes before midnight when Hutch and Starsk entered the apartment together with no accompanying human females. I was so excited to see them that I grabbed Psyche and gave her a big wet smooch. She pulled away and held out her finger, telling me to “put a ring on it” or get lost.

Or at least bring her some chocolates.

I had been so wrapped up in my plans for Starsk and Hutch that I’d totally forgotten to buy a Valentine’s gift for my eternal love. Fortunately, Aphrodite did me a solid and showed up with a red velvet heart-shaped box filled with a delectable assortment of truffes au chocolate from À la Mère de Famille, the oldest chocolate shop in Paris, which pleased Psyche immensely. If you don’t know it, it’s been in business since 1761, and Psyche and I had happily visited many times in the past.

Chocolate truffles are one of those culinary delights that we didn’t have back in classical antiquity. The food back then was adequate, and we enjoyed our bacchanalias, but we had no idea what we were missing. Can you believe that we didn’t even have pizza or wonton soup in those days?

I plucked a confection out of the box and fed it to my darling Psyche, popping a delectable bonbon into my own mouth as well. Three more chocolates quickly disappeared, as Fate, Valentinus and Aphrodite each helped themselves to a treat.

After she finished the last morsel, Psyche sucked my fingers into her mouth and proceeded to lick them clean.

Our friends quickly made their way to the kitchen so we could have some privacy.

After Psyche and I had finished our lovemaking, we turned to the humans before us. They were sitting side by side on the sofa sharing a beer and commiserating about their lack of female companionship. I turned to Psyche. ‘Watch this,’ I said, as I lifted my bow and inserted the arrow, pulling it back as far as it would go. I was aiming for Starsk’s heart, but at that exact moment, he stood up and began to walk towards the door.

Panicked, I released the arrow before he could leave my sight. It pierced Starsk in his left ass cheek, and for a brief second, he froze and reached his hand behind him, feeling around there. Then he shrugged it off and continued towards the door.

“Damn, that Starsk sure does have a fine ass,” Psyche purred. I glared at her. From the kitchen, I could hear our companions giggling.

“Where are you going?” Hutch asked.

“Forgot somethin’ in my cah,” Starsk replied. “Be right back.”

Psyche and I looked at each other at the mention of the mysterious cah. I worried that my arrow would only work if the shot had been to the heart. But then Starsk re-appeared in the doorway holding a plant in both hands. It had shiny heart-shaped leaves and was tied with a floppy red bow.

He sat back down beside Hutch and handed it to him.

“What’s this?” Hutch asked, and I could tell he was genuinely touched.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, partner.”

I waited with baited breath for my arrow to do its thing. It should have worked instantaneously and I feared something had gone wrong.

Starsk watched Hutch as he turned the plant around in his hands, examining it closely. I was beginning to think my arrow was defective, when Starsk suddenly leaned in and planted a kiss on Hutch’s lips, as passionate as the kiss I’d given Psyche earlier.

He pulled away to whisper, “I love you, Hutch,” and then proceeded to kiss Hutch again, his hands ravaging the well-muscled body as Hutch released his grasp on the plant, bringing his hands up to caress Starsk’s elegant dark curls.

Psyche pinched my arm knowingly, and then we clasped our hands together as we waited for Hutch to respond.

When Starsk pulled away to catch his breath, Hutch’s eyes were opened wide, and a grin was spread across his face. “I love you, too, mushbrain. But…”

Hutch’s expression had inexplicably turned sad.

‘Oh no!’ Psyche whispered, gripping my hand tightly. Would Starsk’s profession of eternal love not be reciprocated?

“I didn’t get you anything, Starsk. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Starsk replied. “You’re the only gift I want.”

Hutch blinked and dabbed at the corner of his eye, which had become suspiciously moist-looking.

My friends emitted a collective ‘awww’ from the kitchen, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hey, what’s this?” Starsk asked, leaning down to pick up a red velvet heart-shaped box that had suddenly appeared on the floor.

Psyche and I looked at each other and then back at the box that Starsk held. It looked exactly like the one we’d shared moments earlier, but ours still sat beside us, empty. I glanced over at Aphrodite. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, smiling coyly, her legs swinging off the edge. I waved to her, mouthing a silent ‘thank you.’

Hutch had the most puzzled look on his face, evidently trying to suss out how a box of French chocolates had magically appeared in his living room.

Starsk opened the box, took out a milk chocolate truffle and popped it into his mouth, then chose a dark chocolate and fed it to Hutch, who took in the truffe as he kissed the tips of Starsk’s fingers.

The others reappeared beside Psyche and me. Gloating that he’d won the bet, Fate pointed to the clock on the wall. It was one minute ‘til midnight.

I was confused, arguing it was my arrow that had brought Starsk and Hutch together. But Fate disagreed and shook his head, insisting it had happened exactly when and how it was always meant to, and that my arrow had nothing to do with it.

We were at a standstill, but as we’d had a long, tiring day, we agreed to disagree. Aphrodite bid us adieu and wafted out the window, followed by Valentinus and Fate who disappeared in a whiff, leaving Psyche and me alone with Starsk and Hutch.

I turned to Psyche. ‘I think it’s time we gave them some privacy.’ She agreed, and we turned a few degrees back towards the front door, confident the two men would never notice.

Fin

Author’s Note: Hutch has a statue of Cupid and Psyche on his coffee table. You can read about it in Mortmere’s blog, Property of Starsky and Hutch, at https://shinventory.wordpress.com/1975/10/22/hutchs-cupid-and-psyche-statuette/