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“Hey, Buck,” Steve says when James comes out of the bedroom. going for casual nonchalance. “Coffee?”
James grunts, then nods.
“Perfect.” Steve pours a cup and carries it to the kitchen table. “What do you feel like doing today?”
He could suggest laundry, which they haven’t done laundry in two weeks. It’s beginning to show. James looks like half a phantom in a black sweatshirt and matching basketball shorts. His legs are the pale white of someone who hasn’t seen the sun in a long while. It catches Steve off guard that they’re not so much paler than James’s face. That’s a problem he definitely needs to correct.
“Mm.” James shrugs and takes a sip of his beverage. “I-” he starts. “I need to–” He breaks off with a gulp. Steve wonders for a second if he’s going to be sick, but it’s just the way James gets going sometimes. “I can’t find them.”
“What?” Steve asks. “What can’t you find?”
James sighs. Shrugs. “Hearing aids.” It’s called blast-induced hearing loss, and more and more veterans are getting it diagnosed nowadays. Steve wasn’t bothered by all the what?’s and huh?’s, but he’s still glad James finally caved and let him drag him to the audiologist.
“Ah.” Steve doesn’t know what to say to this. Yesterday James had a fit and threw the bits of blue and gold plastic at him because he couldn’t fathom putting them in his ears. Now today, they’re missing in action. It only figures, since they haven’t yet been recovered from the all-swallowing carpet.
“I don’t know. I just–” James pauses again, struggling to direct his breath. Steve’s brows knit in concern when he sees the tears pooling at the corners of James’s eyes. “I didn’t want them, but now I do, and I don’t know where they are!” His voice grows to a haggard whisper-shout, leaking emotion out around the harsh edges.
“We’ll find ‘em,” Steve assures, reaching to pat James’s elbow. He thinks through a backup plan as well. “And you can wear the old ones while we look.”
“No!” The ferocity startles both of them. James has to reach around his neck and manually push his stump shoulder down from where it’s stuck about an inch below his earlobe. He takes a breath, rubbing his shirt collar to cover the awkwardness. “I’m sorry. I–”
“Don’t worry about it.” Steve opens his arms a little, in case James wants to fall into them. He gets it, even though he doesn’t, really. Frustration is frustration, no matter the cause. James is entitled to change his opinions day to day; Steve isn’t keeping score.
“No, just, I,” James waffles again, swiping a shaky hand under his dripping nose. “I need them. It’s not ok.”
“Yeah, I know. You don’t like the backups,” Steve says, regretting he suggested it. The silver ones are older tech, with batteries that are a pain for James to change with his single-handed tremor. “Then don’t wear them. I’ll find them for you.”
“No,” James says again, leaning forward in a motion that looks only half voluntary. His head comes to Steve’s shoulder as if drawn there by a magnet. “Not ok.”
“You’re not ok,” Steve repeats back, letting James know that he hears him. He sees him, feels him, all the senses properly accounted for. “I see that. That’s fine.” He loosely closes the embrace around James’s shoulders. “Come ‘ere.”
“I shouldn’t–” James shakes his head, his hair tickling Steve’s jaw. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“You want them today.” Steve pats James’s tight, trembling shoulder muscle. “Like I said. That’s fine.”
“It’s not. I was–It’s stupid–”
“Not stupid,” Steve says, drawing in a deep breath in hopes James will do the same. “You didn’t want them yesterday. Now you changed your mind. No problem there.”
“But I can’t fucking find them. I hate the fucking backups.” James bites his lip. “Now I have to spend $300 we don’t have to get backups that actually work.” His words dissolve into a guttural, spitty sound.
“Now hold up.” Steve massages James’s deltoids with deep strokes, hoping to ground him a little. “No need to rush into that. Give me a sec, and I’ll find them.” He tries maneuvering James back into his seat so he has the freedom to stand up and start the search.
“No!” James doesn’t relinquish his grip.
“Buck, babe, I have to. I can’t go look if you don’t let me up.”
“You can’t leave.”
“But I have to.” Steve gives him a squeeze and a kiss on the top of the head. “Breathe, ok?”
James does, reluctantly. “Fine,” he sighs. “Fuck.”
“And keep breathing.”
“Yeah.” James inhales and exhales in long, drawn-out stretches. “I’m sorry.”
“Buck–”
“And I’m sorry for being sorry.” James shakes his head against Steve’s collarbone, rolling his forehead back and forth over the ridge.
“Don’t bother.”
James looks up in bewilderment.
“I mean, don’t worry.” Steve gives an uncomfortable smile. “I’m sorry. Tripping over my words almost as much as you are, huh?” He doesn’t mean for it to be a dig, but he still isn’t positive James won’t take it that way.
James gives a small smile in return. “Yeah. You kind of are.”
“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Steve laughs and makes to stand up. You good to sit while I search?”
“I think so.” James reaches for the coffee cup, slouching over the table.
“Good.” Steve bounces back on his heels and starts down the hall, eyes darting from one baseboard to the other. “I never thought I’d say I was glad to have such a small apartment,” he jokes. “But I sure am now.”
“Rent’s pretty good, too,” James reminds him.
“Yeah, true.” Steve squats. “Here’s one.”
James makes a soft affirmative sound. “Thanks,” he says under his breath.
“Sure.” It’s not good enough, Steve knows. It won’t be until he finds both and tucks them safely behind James’s ears. He continues to scan the carpet.
The other aid turns out to have bounced under the door to the office, but it still takes Steve barely two minutes to search it out. “There you go.” He drops the electronic beans into James’s hand, then sets about inserting the earmolds for him. “Sorry, my hands are cold.”
“Warmer than mine,” James jokes, which isn’t funny, but Steve laughs anyway.
“I guess so.” He finishes what he’s doing and tucks a lock of James’s air behind the aid on his right ear. “Better?”
“Yeah,” James says, cheeks going pink and a little abashed. Steve’s just glad he has some color.
“Good.” Steve kisses his forehead. “I like it when you listen to me. Just a little bit.” He grins.
“I probably should more often, then.”
“I wouldn’t complain if that was the case.”
James’s mouth turns up at the corners again. “Then I will.”