[oom: with orpheus]

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

[Previously.]

No sketchbook this time to ease their way with each other. No melancholy, either, and Orpheus is steady on his feet as they climb the stairs.

Steve thinks idly that he should get a room of his own sometime. Meantime, he likes Orpheus's--the simplicity of it, the memories.

Especially the memories.


[ooc: Adult content within.]

Comments

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Nothing to compare it to."

He smiles a half-smile.

"Maybe nothing will compare to you. My first."

The smile fades. He doesn't want to think about them parting, though it seems--just from what Orpheus has said, how he is--that it's inevitable.

[golden_lyre]

"Maybe," Orpheus agrees, though he finds himself frowning as well, not wanting to think about that either. He strokes his fingers through Steve's hair.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve squeezes him a little closer.

(Carefully. He doesn't want to break a rib.)

"Will you tell me another story? Another myth from Australia?"

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus laughs softly. "Do you want a song again, or just the story?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"I would love a song."

[golden_lyre]

"All right."

He thinks for a long moment, fingers stroking along Steve's spine, until he starts one the story. His music follows the excitement of the flowers and animals and the beauty of the sunrise and the blazing of the sun at noon and the cool evening sunset.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve smiles throughout, warmed by the imagery.

When it's over, he kisses Orpheus.

"So beautiful."

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus smiles at that, kissing him again. "Thank you, lovely."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve lays down his head again.

"I feel like I should go right to sleep, now that I've had my bedtime story."

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus chuckles and kisses his hair.

"Don't I get a bedtime story?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Do you want one?"

[golden_lyre]

"Yes, I think I do," Orpheus says with a smile.

He chooses not to point out that his mother is the muse of epic poetry, so the bedtime stories he had as a child were, well, epic.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"A true story or a made-up story? And keep in mind that most of my anecdotes end with 'and then I fainted' or 'and then I had an asthma attack.'"

[golden_lyre]

"No more that end with 'and then I threw up all over my date'?" he asks, smiling.

"A made up one, then."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Just the one, fortunately."

He thinks for a moment, then says, "You know how I drew comics before the experiment? This is one of the plots I'm most proud of."

And he begins a tale of evil robots, space princesses, and a hero who only has strengths that he's read about. His strength is that he can learn anything--his weakness is that reading takes time he doesn't always have.

It was a great series of books. Steve is still fond of it.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus smiles as he listens, arm curled loosely around Steve.

When he finishes, Orpheus kisses his forehead, nuzzling along his hairline. "That was an excellent bedtime story."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"I'm glad you like it," Steve murmurs, nuzzling him back.

[golden_lyre]

"I suppose that means it's bedtime, hm?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Yeah. I think it is."

The look he gives Orpheus says...maybe not yet.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus smiles at that look, bending to kiss him. "Good thing we're already in bed, then."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve holds him close and kisses him slow and deep.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus' wraps his arms around Steve, pressing against him.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve pressed up to him, reveling in the slide of skin on skin.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus hooks a leg over his hip, pulling him closer still, rolling his hips against Steve.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve kisses him harder, answering every roll of hips with one of his own. His hands rake through Orpheus's hair, over his back, down to his hips, over his chest.