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Prometheus’s workshop looked as though an indecisive Xeroran mob had had an argument about paint colors inside of it. Hades stopped short inside the doorway; he knew his friend had been working on something unusual lately, but he hadn’t bothered to inquire about it. Prometheus hadn’t been around as much, but it wasn’t Hades’s job to chase after him. Except that Nabriales apparently felt that it was when Prometheus missed a meeting with the Energy Augmentation focus group.
When Hades asked Hythlodaeus about it, the man had shrugged, sipped his tea, and said, “Our respected colleague Nabriales called me first, but I’m not going to interrupt Prom’s current project.” He tilted his head consideringly. “You should see it, if you haven’t.” Hades couldn’t help but wonder what Nabriales had said to irritate the usually placid Hythlodaeus, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. He had to work with the man, after all.
And so Hades was standing here, looking at...this. Prometheus was practically vibrating with excitement, now that Hades was inside and could feel his aether clearly, and the sight of him was enough to make Hades pause again. Prometheus was, as was his wont, dressed only in undershorts. He was mostly neat, aside from his hands - speckled with paint - and his forehead, which had a violently pink line of paint across it where, it seemed, Prometheus had wiped his brow.
Prom beamed at him. “Hades! My old department called and asked if I could help out finishing a concept.” He crossed over to a workbench and picked up a concept diagram as he spoke.
Ah.
That would do it.
Hades took the diagram from Prometheus. “And that is?”
“Well, they need a bird that will pollinate flowers that are brightly colored but have little scent - you can’t rely on butterflies and bees for that - and they’d been working on the concept but got stuck in a couple places.” Prometheus waved a hand at the wall, which Hades now realized was actually populated with bright, intricate paintings of tiny birds.
Hades briefly tuned out what Prometheus was saying - specifics of the bird’s design - in favor of watching his friend. Prometheus’s eyes were shining and he waved his hands as he explained what he’d done to tweak the design he’d been given. When Prometheus was like this, totally open, radiating joy, he was the most beautiful thing in the world.
And he was still talking. “...and initially they thought it might be doable with capillary action but that’s too inefficient, of course, if they’d thought about it a bit longer they’d have realized. So when the tongue hits nectar the change in surface tension makes it open up like a flower itself, and then it, well, it grabs the nectar with its tongue and these tubes on the side do a sort of piston action to bring it the rest of the way in, and of course the tongue folds up again…hey, are you even listening?”
Hades smirked at him. “I wanted to see if you’d pass out because you’d forgotten to take a breath. Again.” Okay, so Prometheus sputtering and flailing at him was fun in its own way, too. Hades turned his attention to the wall. “It’s impressive. Different varieties for different environments?”
Prometheus looked at the wall, dragging a hand through his hair and leaving a green streak to go with the pink. “Well, that and I went a little overboard...There are so many variations you can do without changing the utility, and they’re cute.” Hades felt Prometheus’s soul reaching for his and he reached back, twining with his friend. Prometheus’s simple happiness radiated through Hades and settled there, a warmth sinking into him and staying.
“I’ll probably choose five designs to present, unless they okay more varieties,” Prometheus said after a moment. His soul thrummed contentedly, but there was a wistfulness to it as well. Looking around, Hades thought, it should have been clear to anyone with a decent mind that this was what Prometheus should have been doing. A waste of his talents, perhaps, but was it really, when Prometheus made birds with a craftsmanship that eclipsed Hades’s own skill with buildings?
Hades yearned to bottle up the happiness that his friend was feeling now so he could give it back to him later. He settled for taking Prom’s face in his hands and kissing him warmly. This would be a sweet memory to dust off and return to one day, to see an echo of the joy Prometheus was radiating now.