[OOM: Orpheus]

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

In the past twelve hours, Steve has been dressed for exactly two of them. he and Orpheus have slept, lounged, talked, necked (and more, wink wink), ate and slept some more. He's listened to Orpheus hum and even sing a little, and he's watched Orpheus sleep and stroked his hair, and felt equally happy doing both.

This has been one of the ... best days of Steve's life.



[ooc: Preemptive adult content warning.]

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[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve kisses his neck.

"So, hey," he says after a moment, "while I was down in the bar getting lunch I got some other stuff too...should I bring it out?" He looks at Orpheus with mischief in his eyes.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus arches an eyebrow at that. "All right..."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve hops out of bed and goes to the drawer he's started thinking of as "his," and brings out a small palate of watercolor paint and some brushes.

"Easier to wash off than ink."

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus laughs softly when he sees it. "You are so lucky I don't have to do laundry here," he says, stretching out across the bed.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"You can fingerpaint on me when your fingers are better," Steve offers and puts the paints and brushes down so he can get a glass of water.

"Think about what you'd like the picture to be of, too. It may not last long but it should still be something you like."

[golden_lyre]

"I'm not much of an artist," Orpheus says as he watches him go.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Luckily for you, I'm the one who'll be doing the drawing."

He climbs back onto the bed with a glass of water.

"Chest or back?"

[golden_lyre]

"I meant for the finger painting," he says.

"Back, I think. To give you a cleaner canvas."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Sweetheart, you can paint nothing but lines and shapes on me if you want to."

He looks down at his stomach. "Probably should shower...but I want to put it off as long as possible. I like feeling this debauched.

"On your stomach, please." He dips a brush into the water.

[golden_lyre]

"Or I could just touch you," Orpheus offers, grinning as he turns onto his stomach.

"We can shower after this."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"You could do that," Steve says, "though I think the painting would be more fun.

"Any preferences for the picture or should I just improvise?"

[golden_lyre]

"Paint me America."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve looks at him a moment, that nameless feeling he gets sometimes filling his chest, and then murmurs, "As you wish," and loads his brush.

He starts just above Orpheus's ass, blues and greens--the oceans, the rivers, the Continental Divide.

He outlines with mountains--the Appalacians, the rolling hills of the Midwest, the savage bite of the Rockies.

He fills in the plains, windblown and dry, just beginning to recover with soft green fuzz.

He paints a skyline made of the cities he's come to love, from crowded Chicago to mellow Los Angeles, and finally New York, the city he loves and will always call home.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus closes his eyes as Steve paints, humming a faint, pleased tune.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve sits back finally and regards his work. He blurs a line with his side of his thumb.

He feels little sentimentality about his work, most of the time, but he quite likes this.

"Give it a few minutes to dry and then you can see it."

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus turns to look at him. "What do you think of it?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"I think I may have to recreate it in a more permanent medium."

[golden_lyre]

"You could always take a picture," Orpheus offers.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"I don't have my camera. It's all right. I'll remember."

[golden_lyre]

"I've got one on my phone, I think. If you want to use it."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"...on your phone?"

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus flashes him a quick grin. "Yep. At least, I'm pretty sure. I've never used it."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"I have to see this. Where is it?"

Phones in his day, after all are big black chunks of wires and plastic. Or if they're on the front, they're big wood boxes full of wires. And cameras aren't much better.

[golden_lyre]

"It's in my jeans," Orpheus says, waving to indicate what he thinks is their current vicinity.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve raises an eyebrow at him, which he can't see anyway, and then goes to Orpheus's jeans and hunts through the pockets until he finds a small squarish piece of electronics.

"This is a phone? And a camera? It doesn't look big enough to be a notepad."