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It’s an evening of delicate maneuvering before James relaxes enough to get near Adam. In tearful apologies and quiet reassurances that of course no one meant to hurt anyone, they mend. I know the punch wasn’t intentional. I should have warned you. I didn’t mean to be cruel.
Sorry's are traded in the neutral territory of a diner, then over the car’s console, finally running dry as Adam coaxes James across the cushions of his couch.
“Why are things always so difficult for us?” Adam asks into James’s parted lips.
James, subdued, fills Adam’s mouth with soft gasps in reply.