[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.]

Comments

[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."

[golden_lyre]

"It's called a smart phone."

He only has one because the record company bought it for him so they could contact him (theoretically) whenever they needed to.

"It's a phone and a camera and a telegraph machine and a record player and any number of other things."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"You're pulling my leg."

[golden_lyre]

"Not at all," Orpheus says with a laugh, holding his hand out, careful not to move too much. "I'll show you."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve puts the little machine in Orpheus's hand and lies beside him to watch whatever Orpheus is going to make it do.

Ring a bell and flash a light, he suspects.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus activates the screen and pulls up the music player, starting a song.

Even for Orpheus' time, the speakers are pretty good.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Yup. It plays music.

Once Steve gets over that--and it doesn't take long--he just listens to the music, his head resting against Orpheus's arm and his eyes closed.

"That's really nice," he says softly when the song is done.

[golden_lyre]

"Yeah, they're not bad," Orpheus concedes.

He pulls up the home screen on his phone again and opens the email.

"This is what people do instead of sending letters, now."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve squints at it. "Hm. It seems impersonal."

[golden_lyre]

"Fairly, yes," Orpheus agrees. "But it's fast."