[Milliways]: New York, New York

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus wasn't entirely sure the ring would work as a way for him to get to Steve's world, but he was going to give it a shot. If it didn't work, he'd explain it to Steve the next time they were both in the bar, and they could figure something else out.

His guitar slung across his back, Orpheus turns the ring on his finger and opens the door, pleased to find himself in Steve's apartment when he steps through.

Comments

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve's eyes widen at the sight of the cuffs. He holds out his hands, wrists together.

[golden_lyre]

"Over your head," Orpheus says gently, opening them up.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve raises his arms over his head.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus leans over him to attach the cuffs and then fasten them to the head board. Once they're secure, he moves to stroke his fingertips down Steve's chest.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve takes a slow, deep breath, his gaze going hazy.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus smiles, tracing random patterns with his fingernails over Steve's skin. "Oh, that is beautiful, my love."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Goosepimples rise on Steve's skin. He breathes, "May I speak?"

[golden_lyre]

His smile deepens. "You may."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Should I call you something--something different?"

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus considers that. It isn't often he's done this sort of thing--not on this side of it, certainly--so he's never had to come up with something. 'Sir' feels to impersonal; 'master' is the wrong relationship.

"You may call me, 'my prince,' if you like," he says after a moment.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve smiles beautifully. "My prince," he whispers. "I feel beautiful, my prince."

[golden_lyre]

"And so you are," Orpheus murmurs, smiling. He lets his hand trail further down Steve's body, over his thighs, coaxing Steve's legs apart.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve's legs part easily.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus reaches into the bag again and pulls out a roll of bondage tape. He stands and moves to the end of the bed, pulling of a strip and twisting it into a cuff to curl around one of Steve's ankles.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve's toes curl, and he takes a sharp intake of breath.


[ooc: Bedtime.]

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus slowly and methodically attaches the other end of the tape to the corner of the bed and moves to Steve's other leg to do the same.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve's breathing deepens. He's utterly pliant in Orpheus's hands.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus pulls himself up off the bed once Steve is tied down, standing at the foot and looking him over. "I know these won't hold you," he says. "So I want you to do everything you can not to break them. Understood?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"I understand." He moves his feet and hands to test the bonds.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus watches him as he moves, satisfied. After a moment, he goes back to the bag and takes out a small vial of massage oil. He moves to the bed and straddles Steve's thighs, pouring a little of the oil onto Steve's chest.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve's eyelids lower and he gives a happy purr.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus chuckles and he sets the vial aside to start rubbing the oil into Steve's skin.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Oh," Steve breathes. This is far more slow and tender than he expected.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus intends to take his time. He doesn't want to hurt Steve, just tease him, bring him to the edge and hold him there.

"How does it feel, lovely?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"It feels green," Steve says with a faint smile. "It feels good."